And Georges: “No!”

And Blum: “No? No? No? But how do you know? How do you know they didn’t lay him out there, stuffing the still-smoking pistol into his hand during the few minutes they had before the other servants ran in, not even bothering (the urgency, the haste, every second counting and she wide awake now, with all her wits about her and helped by that infallible instinct that allows a woman to see at a glance if everything is as it should be for the arrival of the guests, having enough presence of mind to post her lover in the hallway, ordering him to pound on the already broken-in door when he heard the others coming), not even bothering (not having time) to try to dress him again in that dusty uniform of which she had just now stripped him in the hope of . . .”

And Georges: “No!”