from LE GRAND MEAULNES by Alain-Fournier

I left then. After a few steps I stumbled over a kerb and nearly fell. That night – it was last night – when the women and children in the court were quiet at last and I was hoping for some sleep, I kept hearing the cabs go by in the street. They passed at fairly long intervals, but as soon as one went by I listened for the next in spite of myself: the tinkle of a bell, the clop of hoofs on the asphalt. And the sounds turned into words – the forsaken city, love beyond recall, night without end, summer, fever…


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