brave the current of a nation: as well to lift up the church which covered them with its shell! The only recourse was to forget, to forget up to the last second, while hoping at bottom that this last second would never arrive. Until then, to be happy.
After they went out, while chatting, she pulled him by the arm in order to cast a glance at a shopfront, which they had just passed. A shoe shop. He found his gaze caressing tenderly a pair of fine leather shoes, tall and laced up.
"Pretty, eh?" said he.
He laughed at the expression and she laughed also.
"Wouldn't they be too big?"
"No, just a fit."
"Well, then, suppose one bought them?"
She pressed his arm and pulled him on so as to tear him away from the sight.
"One has to belong to the wealthy" (humming the air of Dansons la capucine. . . .) "But they're not for us."