Читать книгу Pied Piper онлайн

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They gave him a vociferous French welcome. He had not thought to find himself so well remembered, but it's not very common for English people to go deep into the Jura. They chattered at him nineteen to the dozen. Was he well? Had he made a good crossing of the Manche? He had stopped in Paris? And in Dijon also? That was good. It was very tiring to travel in this sale war. He had brought a fishing rod with him this time, instead of skis? That was good. He would take a little glass of Pernod with Madame?

And then, Monsieur votre fils, he was well too?

Well, they had to know. He turned away from her blindly. "Madame," he said, "mon fils est mort. Il est tombé de son avion, au-dessus de Heligoland Bight."

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