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256 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published July 11, 1949
Maillat heard the noise of wheels on the cobbles, and, at the same moment, a small handcart pushed by an infantryman came into sight on his right. On it lay a woman, her legs poking forward. Her dress, bunched up almost to her waist, displayed two plump pink thighs that danced a sort of obscene jig at every movement of the cart.
The cart turned the corner into the street where Maillat was, its two wheels creaking on the uneven cobbles, and soon came abreast of him. The woman had staring eyes and a gaping black hole in her temple. Her thighs still trembled at every jolt.
His hand started to move again and at last reached Jeanne’s neck. He stopped to get his breath. His chest seemed to be held in a vice. He felt it was wet, and he wondered why he had broken into such a sweat all at once. His hand slowly reached the nape of Jeanne’s neck. It moved with incredible slowness, inch by inch.
Maillat replongea dans la foule, et aussitôt il se sentit diminué, vidé, anonyme. C’était comme s’il n’eût plus eu de destin personnel devant lui tout d’un coup. Il était redevenu un homme kaki parmi les hommes kaki : ces hommes désignés d’avance pour tuer et être tués.
Il se sentait bien, tout à fait à l’aise dans sa peau, heureux de vivre. Et des hommes, à quelques mètres, étaient en train de mourir dans les flammes. Personne ne s’occupait d’eux. Ils brûlaient lentement dans la nuit odorante et tiède. Le monde continuait à vivre. Les gens continuaient à aimer et à haïr sur tout la surface de la terre.