the apple of her eye, le tout petit Loup remained the
fruit of her compassion. So now she pretended not to
notice the wink, or the fresh cigarette which he took
from a packet and jauntily stuck behind his small ear,
in spite of the fact that the day was a Sunday.
*We must hurry, my children/ she said amiably.
'Your father will be wanting to hear the news. He
will also wish to be told about the sermon.5
§3
Jpuse was lying on the massive oak bedstead upon
which his father had lain before him. Here his parents
had consummated their love, bred children, and
finally passed to the beyond. And here he himself
had deflowered his wife, bred children, and would
almost certainly die — in accordance with the Benedit
tradition. The bed was so large that it dwarfed the
room, leaving but little space for its neighbours —
a washstand, two chairs and a small chest of drawers
were all that could find accommodation. Above
the bed hung a crucifix, and beside it, very quiet
but watchful, crouched Aiifos.
Jouse sighed, and Anfos stumbling up went and
fetched his master a glass of water, holding it clumsily
to his lips while the water spilled itself over the quilt
and splashed down the front of Jouse's nightshirt:
'Cool « . .3 said Anfos, sticking his finger in the glass
and smiling.
cAh, yes . . . it is cool/ agreed Jouse.
The room was heavy with the heat of summer. The
small blind seemed unable to quench the sunshine,
the small window unable to let in fresh air, so that
what air there was smelt of clothing and illness — the
smell peculiar to poverty and to those among the poor
who are ailing. Anfos returned to his place on the
floor, shaking some drops of sweat off his brow like
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