“If it wasn’t exactly a return to the flow of idle chatter that had once fluttered its wings against the windowpanes, at least now Vatard had only to put up with stifled sobs and silent gestures of irritation. His daughter became calmer, eating a little, practically drinking again, no longer staring around cagily with dark, angry eyes. The following morning, when the excitement of the night before had worn off, she’d expected an avalanche of reproaches. But her father had made no allusion to her... returning so late at night. She was grateful to him for this and her tears ceased. But this resigned calm didn’t last long. She quickly forgot the sadness of the conscripted soldier, made no more comparisons between her fate and that of others, and once again bemoaned the restrictions placed on her liberty in the evenings. As for Céline, she continued to be insufferable. In the mean time, Anatole had disappeared. Rumours circulating around the workshop pictured him living in concubinage with some corset-maker, so she had reason to be calmer, and she was in fact less scared, but she was still in a foul mood.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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