Violence burst out on every page, and eventually he stopped reading. He spent two days in a state of almost total despondency. Now and then he would walk to the river, where he sat and dreamed. Most of the time he stayed in the Volkswagen and slept.

La Grande Sauterelle spent a lot of time in the parking lot booth. It was just big enough for two people. The young attendant was a student, and they were the same age. When he finished work she would go for a walk with him. He was tall and broad shouldered, he had blond curly hair and a tan. He had studied French in college. Now he was studying business administration at the University of Missouri.

One night she came in very late — it was more like morning — and Jack woke with a start when she shut the door of the Volkswagen.

She took off her clothes.

“Something smells good,” he said.

“It’s me,” she said. “I took a bath and then I put on powder. It’s called Spuma di Sciampagna. That’s Italian.”

“Is it now?” he said with a hint of irony.

Standing in the small space that remained when the seat was transformed into a bed, the girl unfastened her long black braid. He raised the sheet, inviting her to get in beside him. When it was hot he didn’t use his sleeping bag; he would open it out and lie on top of it, covering himself with a cotton or a flannel sheet. The girl took off her knife and snuggled up to him.

“You’re hot,” she said.

“I don’t go walking around outside at ungodly hours,” he said in a mock-severe tone.

She laughed, and then, in a pleading voice, said, “That’s right, give me a lecture.”

His answer was a sigh.

“Are you sleepy?” she asked.

“No, not really.”

“Well . . .”

“All right,” he said. “First of all, a well-brought-up young lady doesn’t talk to strange men . . .”

“No?”

“No. She waits to be introduced.”

“Is that so? You mean I shouldn’t have talked to you when we met in Gaspé?”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Don’t argue!”

His voice became stern.

“Second,” he began, “a well-brought-up young lady doesn’t go to a strange man’s house.”

“No?”

“No. Especially not at night!”

“That’s true,” she said. “What else?”

He pondered for a moment, but couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Lecture me a little more,” she pleaded.

“I don’t like lecturing,” he said. “You’re free and you don’t belong to me. And I’m falling asleep. I haven’t had enough sleep.”

She put her arm around his waist.

“What I like most about you,” she said, “is your gentleness and your respect for people.”

“I’m not really gentle,” he said impatiently. “Now you’ll have to excuse me. I haven’t been feeling well for two days now and I need some sleep.”

“Just a minute,” she said. “I’ve got a couple of things to tell you.”