CHAPTER xi

afternoon sun streamed into Christophers attic,
slanting across his narrow white bed with the
china holy-water stoop above it, touching a picture
of the Virgin on the wall and revealing the layer of
powdery dust that filmed the shiny black frame of
the Virgin. On the well-worn floor-boards this after-
noon sunshine had formed itself into a pool of light
whose brilliance contrasted sharply with the shadows
that lay in the sagging corners of the room; and
directly in the middle of this luminous pool, gravely
contemplating his toes, sat Christophe,
He knew very well that he should have been working.
To be sure it was a half-holiday, but his father had
said before leaving the house to attend a sale at a
neighbouring coast-town: 1 myself may not get back
until late, therefore Anfos will show you how to dove-
tail that box. I wish you to listen attentively to him,
and not to try and persuade him to play because,
being half-witted, he is frequently childish.' And
Christophe had dutifully acquiesced, but while his
lips had said: C0ui, mon pere/ his thoughts had
irresistibly strayed to his sandals.
Eusebe had brought them across after dinner, very
neatly tied up in a clean sheet of paper. Jouse had
already gone off to the station, but Marie had offered
a glass of red wine to the unexpectedly generous donor,
feeling that she could not very well do less. Tour