go through, is really a very nasty trap. The old woman doesnât know, poor thing, sheâs got no idea at all, but now sheâs going to take another step and itâll be a fatal one, believe me, sheâs sure to put her foot on the treacherous mechanism, thereâll be a soundless click, the ropes will tighten, the beams suspended cantilever fashion will close like jaws and sheâll be caught inside like a mouse â if things go well, that is, because in a worst-case scenario all the bars that connect the beams, those poles there, rather sinister if you think abut it, will snap together, one right against the other with not a millimetre between and, wham, sheâll be crushed flat as a pancake. The man driving the gig doesnât even realise, maybe heâs deaf into the bargain, and then the womanâs nothing to him, believe me, heâs got other things to think about, if heâs a farmer heâll be thinking of his vineyards, farmers never think about anything but the soil, theyâre pretty self-centred, for them the world endsalong with their patch of ground; or if heâs a vet, because he could be a vet too, heâll be thinking about some sick cow on the farm which must be back there somewhere, even if you canât see it, cows are more important than people for vets, everybody has his work in this world, what do you expect, and the others had better look out for themselves.
Iâm sorry you still havenât understood, but if you make an effort Iâm sure youâll get there, youâre a smart person and it doesnât take much to work it out, or rather, maybe it does take a bit, but I think Iâve given you details enough; Iâll repeat, probably all you have to do is connect together the pieces Iâve given you, in any event, look, the museum is about to close, see the custodian making signs to us, I canât bear these custodians, they give themselves such airs, really, but if you want letâs come back tomorrow, in the end you donât have that much to do either, do you? and then Impressionism is charming, ah these Impressionists, so full of light, of colour, you almost get a smell of lavender from their paintings, oh yes, Provence . . . Iâve always had a soft spot for these landscapes, donât forgetyour stick, otherwise youâll get run over by some car or other, you put it down there, to the right, a bit farther, to the right, youâre nearly there, remember, three paces to our left thereâs a step.
Happy People
âIâm afraid weâre going to get bad weather this evening,â said the girl, and she pointed to a curtain of clouds on the horizon. She was skinny and angular, her hands moving jerkily, and she had her hair done up in a little ponytail. The terrace of the small restaurant looked out over the sea. To the right, beyond the screen of jasmine which climbed up to form a pergola, you could glimpse a little courtyard full of bric-Ã -brac, cases of empty bottles, a few broken chairs. To the left was a small ironwork gate, beneath which gleamed the little stairway carved into the sheer rock face. The waiter arrived with a tray of steaming shellfish. He was a little man with slicked-back hair and a shy manner. He put the tray down on thetable and made a slight bow. On his right arm he carried a dirty napkin.
âI like this country,â said the girl to the man sitting opposite. âThe people are simple and kind.â
The man didnât answer; he unfolded his napkin, tucking it into the collar of his shirt, but then registered the girlâs disapproving look at once and rearranged it on his knees. âI donât like it,â he said. âI donât understand the language. And then itâs too hot. And then I donât like southern countries.â
The man was sixtyish, with a square face and thick eyebrows. But his mouth was pink and moist, with something soft about it.
The
Iâm sorry you still havenât understood, but if you make an effort Iâm sure youâll get there, youâre a smart person and it doesnât take much to work it out, or rather, maybe it does take a bit, but I think Iâve given you details enough; Iâll repeat, probably all you have to do is connect together the pieces Iâve given you, in any event, look, the museum is about to close, see the custodian making signs to us, I canât bear these custodians, they give themselves such airs, really, but if you want letâs come back tomorrow, in the end you donât have that much to do either, do you? and then Impressionism is charming, ah these Impressionists, so full of light, of colour, you almost get a smell of lavender from their paintings, oh yes, Provence . . . Iâve always had a soft spot for these landscapes, donât forgetyour stick, otherwise youâll get run over by some car or other, you put it down there, to the right, a bit farther, to the right, youâre nearly there, remember, three paces to our left thereâs a step.
Happy People
âIâm afraid weâre going to get bad weather this evening,â said the girl, and she pointed to a curtain of clouds on the horizon. She was skinny and angular, her hands moving jerkily, and she had her hair done up in a little ponytail. The terrace of the small restaurant looked out over the sea. To the right, beyond the screen of jasmine which climbed up to form a pergola, you could glimpse a little courtyard full of bric-Ã -brac, cases of empty bottles, a few broken chairs. To the left was a small ironwork gate, beneath which gleamed the little stairway carved into the sheer rock face. The waiter arrived with a tray of steaming shellfish. He was a little man with slicked-back hair and a shy manner. He put the tray down on thetable and made a slight bow. On his right arm he carried a dirty napkin.
âI like this country,â said the girl to the man sitting opposite. âThe people are simple and kind.â
The man didnât answer; he unfolded his napkin, tucking it into the collar of his shirt, but then registered the girlâs disapproving look at once and rearranged it on his knees. âI donât like it,â he said. âI donât understand the language. And then itâs too hot. And then I donât like southern countries.â
The man was sixtyish, with a square face and thick eyebrows. But his mouth was pink and moist, with something soft about it.
The
Similar Books
