Laurent was fascinated by her reflections which followed on one from the other, random, touching, zany, sensual. He had opened a door into the soul of the woman with the mauve bag and even though he felt what he was doing was inappropriate, he couldn’t stop himself from reading on. A quote from Sacha Guitry came to mind: ‘Watching someone sleep is like reading a letter that’s not addressed to you.’ The bottle of wine was half empty and the hachis Parmentier forgotten on the kitchen counter.
