imagine — I do not say hope, I say what you imagine
— are unpleasant and perhaps even evil tidings.
But believe me, I shall live to see my son Christophe
carry on this old and honourable business. Your
friend may sell a few musical boxes, or perhaps
cuckoo-clocks — that I think more than likely. I
myself will buy one of his cuckoo-clocks if only to amuse
the poor, childish Anfos. For the rest, he is doomed to
failure, your friend; our people know the value of
well-seasoned timber/
'But3 she argued, Suppose many strangers should
come, suppose they should come in summer for the
bathing and need things in a hurry — beds and tables
and things. . . .*
'Rubbish, you are talking rubbish!5 laughed Jouse,
'Where would they live, these fine people of yours?
Do not be so completely ridiculous, my sister. No,
no, I shall not sleep a wink less well because Monsieur
Kahn will open his shop with a firework display
some time in October! On the contrary, Germaine,
I am really quite pleased — it may be that his little
venture will prove useful. Rugs you said he would
sell, among other things; eh bien, Marie needs a new
rug for this room. She and I will be his first customers,
for I fear that he will ,not last very long, it would
therefore be wise to purchase our rug before the
inevitable disaster/
Madame Roustan thought: 'Is my brother a fool?
Or is Monsieur Kahn, and not he> the fool? So much
money that poor Monsieur Kahn must have spent
. . . yet I cannot believe quite all that he said . . .
I cannot quite see Paris gowns in my window. . . .
And, moreover, Jouse is correct in one thing: if
those grand people came to us where would they live?
They could not well live in tents on the beach, and our
only hotel is exceedingly small ... to accommodate
tourists one must have many houses/ Aloud she said: