The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. Understand me! I forbid it. 1703. In twenty minutes we meet in the hall, remember. Were you born here, madame?’ ‘Mais non. Also he is ugly. I was mean to him.
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