“We’ll be all right,” said Luc.

It was a long, slow climb up the streets toward Luc’s place. Years of manual work had given Thomas the strength of an ox, but he was grunting, and Luc was sweating profusely. Finally, however, they reached their destination.

Luc’s house lay at the end of a narrow street that was nestled against the hillside of Montmartre. It had belonged to a builder before Luc bought it. There was a small yard at the front, with bushes on one side and trees on the other. Behind the house lay a small garden. On the left rose the steep slope of the hill covered with shrubs. At the end, a wall. On the right, another wall, and the back of a shed belonging to another house. Against the slope, there was a wooden hut containing a privy, with a small garden shed adjoining it.

They got the carpet into the house, down the narrow hallway and into the main room. At the end of that, they needed a break.

“I’ll get you a beer,” said Luc, and Thomas nodded gratefully.

As Luc poured their beer, Thomas said, “The carpet’s too big for this room, I think.”

“I’m going to cut it down.”

“Do you want to open it out and see? I don’t mind helping you.”

“Not now. I’m too tired.”

“What was it you wanted to talk to me about, then?”

“Oh. I just wanted to know if you needed any money. I have quite a bit put by.”

“That’s kind of you, Luc. But we’re all right. If I’m ever in trouble, I’ll tell you.”

“Just so long as you let me know.”

They drank their beers in silence, until Luc got up to use the privy.

Thomas measured the carpet with his eye. He wondered how much too big it was. It suddenly occurred to him that if there was a spare strip, he might take it for the passage in their lodgings. Taking out his knife, he cut the string that was tied around the carpet, and began to unroll it.

Then he stepped back, and stared in horror.

Luc gazed at him sadly.

“Why did you do that?” he said.

Thomas did not answer.

“I was only gone for a moment.” Luc sighed. “I never meant you to see. I didn’t want you to know.”

“What happened?”

“An accident. It was awful.”

“Didn’t you get the police?”

“I couldn’t. They mightn’t have believed it was an accident.” He shook his head. “It didn’t look right.”

“You killed her?”

“Of course not.”

“People will look for her.”

“I don’t think so. She was just … a young lady of the night. If they asked me, I could say that she left. But I don’t think they’ll even ask. I just have to get rid of the body.”

“Why did you kill her?”

“I didn’t. I swear it. There was an argument … She fell. It was an accident. That’s all.”