‘Quick, Gérard. He allowed his irons and clothes to be taken off without resistance. . ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. . ” He relapsed into a stony silence. . It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. ‘Has this capitaine of yours not yet rid us of this Emile? What can he find to say to him?’ ‘Don’t be impatient,’ Gerald said, rising too and coming to draw her away from the door. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say.
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