sandals have arrived!5 she had called to Christophe.
And hardly had Eusebe returned to his shop than
Christophe had rushed upstairs with the parcel; so
now here he was amusing himself when he should
have been making a box with Anfos.
He began to turn his feet this way and that, admir-
ing the pattern of the thongs across his insteps,
admiring the pliant brown leather of the thongs, and
the heavy workman-like soles of the sandals, admiring
the neat little straps between his toes, and the neat
little straps that clung to his heels with such gentle
but reassuring persistence. Then quite suddenly as
he sat on in the sunshine there came upon Christophe
a most curious sensation; he who had never
worn sandals until now yet felt that they were
intensely familiar, and that something else was familiar
as well: his great pleasure and pride in receiving this
present. It was almost as though it had happened
before, even to the minutest personal details — a new
pair of sandals given to a boy of eight years old by his
parents5 neighbour, and that boy sitting down to
examine the gift in a room which was bare but flooded
with sun, and that boy very conscious of idling his time
when instead he should have been diligently working.
He frowned and began to ponder this thing: cYes,
but working at what?3 he said half aloud.
And the answer flashed into his mind so clearly
that he almost fancied the words had been spoken:
'Working at a little wooden box in the carpenter's shop
that belonged to his father.5 Christophe sprang up,
completely bewildered.
Going onto the landing he hesitated — the house
struck him as being unusually quiet. Then he started
to descend the rickety stairs, his feet making a soft
heavy, slapping sound —the sound that is charac-
teristic of sandals.
Voices reached him as though from a very great
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