THE HOUSE BY THE MARSH
It was in fat Madame Fontaine's little café at Bar la Rose, that Norman village by the sea, that I announced my decision. It being market-day the café was noisy with peasants, and the crooked street without jammed with carts. Monsieur Torin, the butcher, opposite me, leaned back heavily from his glass of applejack and roared.
Monsieur Pompanet, the blacksmith, at my elbow, put down his cup of... more...