straight …'
He let out a loud laugh.
Jacqueline turned to me.
'We met this gentleman at Langrune,' she told me.
'I spotted them right away,' said Cartaud. 'They had such an odd way of playing …'
'Why odd?' said Van Bever with feigned naïveté.
'And we might ask just what . you were up to at Langrune?' said Jacqueline, smiling at him.
Van Bever had struck his customary jockey pose: his back curved, his head between his shoulders. He seemed uncomfortable.
'Do you gamble at the casino?' I asked Cartaud.
'Not really. I find it amusing to go there, for no special reason … when things are slack …'
And what was his occupation when things weren't slack?
Little by little, Jacqueline and Van Bever relaxed. Had they been worried that I might say something to displease Cartaud, or that in the course of our conversation he would reveal something that they both wanted to keep hidden from me?
'And next week … Forges?'
Cartaud was looking at them with amusement. 'No, Dieppe,' said Van Bever.
'I could give you a ride there in my car. It's very fast …' He turned to Jacqueline and me:
'Yesterday it took us a little over an hour to come back from Dieppe …'
So he was the one who had driven Van Bever back to Paris. I remembered the black car stopped on the Rue Cujas.
'That would be very nice of you,' said Jacqueline. 'It's such a bore taking the train every time.'
She was looking at Cartaud in a strange way, as if she found him impressive and couldn't help feeling somehow attracted to him. Had Van Bever noticed?
'I'd be delighted to help you,' said Cartaud. 'I hope you'll join us …'
He was staring at me with his sardonic look. It was as if he had already made up his mind about me and had settled on an attitude of slight condescension.
'I don't go to casinos in the provinces,' I said curtly.
He blinked. Jacqueline was surprised at my reply as well. Van Bever showed no emotion.
'You're missing out. Really very amusing, casinos in the provinces …'
His gaze had hardened. I must have offended him. He wasn't expecting that kind of comeback from such a meeklooking boy. But I wanted to ease the tension. So I said:
'You're right. They're very amusing … Especially Langrune …'
Yes, I would have liked to know what he was doing at Langrune when he met Jacqueline and Van Bever. I knew the place, because I had spent an afternoon there with some friends during a trip to Normandy the year before. I had a hard time imagining him there, wearing his gray suit and walking along the row of run-down villas by the sea, in the rain, looking for the casino. I vaguely remembered that the casino was not in Langrune itself but a few hundred meters down the road, at Luc-sur-Mer.
'Are you a student?'
He had come around to that question. At first I wanted to say yes, but such a simple answer would only complicate things, since I would have to go on to tell him what I was studying.
'No. I work for book dealers.'
I hoped that would be enough for him. Had he asked Jacqueline and Van Bev·cr the same question? And what was their answer? Had Van Bever told him he was a door-todoor salesman? I didn't think so.
' I used to be a student, just across the way …'
He was pointing at a small building on the other side of the street. 'That was the French School of Orthopedics. I was there for a year. Then I studied dentistry at a school on the Avenue de Choisy …'
His tone had become confidential. Was this really sincere? Maybe he was hoping to make us forget that he was not our age and no longer a student.
'I chose dental school so that I could find a specific direction to take. I had a tendency to drift, like you …'
In the end, I could think of only one explanation for the fact that this thirty-five-year-old man in his gray suit should be sitting with us at this hour in this Latin Quarter café: he was interested in Jacqueline.
'You want something else to drink? I'll have another whiskey …'
Van Bever and Jacqueline did