His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. One cannot trust any man at all. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father.
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