“Ravinel hesitated. He was tired, very tired. Otherwise he might perhaps have decided at the last moment not to go in. He might even have turned tail and run away screaming. He felt the comb in his pocket and, turning towards the end of the street, peered into the fog. Certainly nobody could see him. If they did it wouldn’t matter. They’d merely say: ‘Ah, Monsieur Ravinel’s back,’ and go on to talk of something else. Getting out of the car, he walked towards the gate. Everything was exactly ...as it always was. He’d find Mireille in the dining room, sewing. She would look up from her work when she heard his step. ‘Well, darling,’ she would say, ‘you must be worn out after driving through this fog.’ He would take off his shoes before going upstairs to change, so as not to dirty the stair carpet. His slippers would be on the bottom stair ready for him. After that… Ravinel thrust his key into the lock and opened the front door.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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