The blood rushed to his head. He clenched his fists; they were hard and tough from the days when he used to work in the shunting yard pushing goods wagons around. Suddenly he had become a brute beast, an animal unaware of its own strength. He was so angry he could have beaten the life out of her.

Séverine popped her face round the door. The fresh air had brought the colour to her cheeks, and she looked full of the joys of spring.

‘Here I am,’ she said. ‘You must have thought I’d got lost.’

She was twenty-five years old, tall, slim and athletic. She was quite slightly built, but she had a good figure. At first glance she was not what you would call pretty; she had a long face and a rather large mouth, but beautiful shiny teeth. Yet she had an attractiveness all of her own — strangely appealing big blue eyes and thick dark hair.

Her husband made no answer; he stood looking at her with the uneasy, mistrustful expression which she knew only too well.

‘I’ve run all the way,’ she said. ‘There wasn’t a bus anywhere, and I didn’t want to have to pay for a cab, so I ran. Feel me; I’m all hot.’

‘Come off it,’ he said impatiently, ‘you can’t possibly have been in the Bon Marché12 all this time.’

Suddenly, like a child trying to get round her father, she flung her arms round his neck and placed her chubby little hand over his mouth.

‘Naughty, naughty!’ she said. ‘Stop being so grumpy. You know I love you.’

How could he have doubted her? She seemed so honest, so open, so trustworthy. He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. His suspicions invariably ended like this. Séverine yielded to his embrace; she liked it when he made a fuss of her. He smothered her with kisses, but she did not respond. This was something that had always vaguely disturbed him; she remained passive, like a big child. She loved him as a daughter might love her father, but never as his lover.

‘There can’t have been much left on the shelves by the time you’d finished,’ said Roubaud.

‘I’ll tell you what I’ve bought,’ said Séverine. ‘But first, let’s eat. I’m starving ... Oh, I nearly forgot. I’ve bought you a little present ... But you’ve got to say “please”.’

She held her face up to his, laughing. Her right hand was hidden in her pocket, holding something she didn’t want him to see.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘you have to say “please”.’

Roubaud was laughing too; he loved it when she teased him like this.

‘I give in,’ he said. ‘Please.’

She had bought him a knife, to replace one that he had lost; he had been moaning about it for a fortnight. He was delighted. It was a beauty! Brand new, with a lovely shiny blade and an ivory handle. He said he was going to use it straight away! Séverine was glad to see him so pleased and told him jokingly that he now had to pay her a penny, so that their friendship would not be severed.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s eat! No, please don’t close the window, leave it open for a bit, I’m so hot.’

She had walked over to the window where he was standing. She rested her head on his shoulder and stood for a while looking down at the station, sprawled out beneath them.