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Bagnold, Enid, 1889-1981

"The Happy Foreigner"

I go on to Brussels. There is a car at Revins belonging to my
agent. He will take me to Dinant for the Brussels train."
"You are bound for Brussels? Yet you could have gone straight from Paris
to Brussels?"
"Yet I didn't because I wanted to see you!"
She took down her cap and coat from the nail on which they were hanging.
"Need you go yet?" he said, withdrawing the clothes from her arm, and
laying them upon a chair. She sat down again.
"The sun is sinking. The town gets dark so quickly here, though it's
light enough in the mountains. If I leave it later the men will be gone
home, and the garage key with them."
"You're right," he said. "Put them on," and he held the coat for her.
"But once you have the car there's no hurry over our drive. Yes, fetch
it quickly, and then we'll go up above Revins and I'll show you the
things I have in mind."
"What things?"
He drew out a fat, red note-book and held it up.
"It's full of my thoughts," he said. "Quick with the car, and we'll get
up there while it's light enough to show you!"
She slipped out under the apple-red sky, through the streets where the
shadows of the houses lay black as lacquer.
Before the locked gates of the garage the _brigadier_ lounged smoking
his little, dry cigarettes.
"We are on fire," he said, pointing up the street at the mountain.


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