Wonderful clouds

por Sagan, Françoise, 1935-2004

Let them all get on with their stupid drunken lives. Vive la France and Benjamin Constant!’ Yet at the same time, it filled her with nausea to think of Alan as dead, Alan who was so haunted by death. ‘The first excuse that comes along will be the right one and I don’t want to be that excuse. ‘So what? I know what you’re thinking about. ’ ‘I can’t have any respect for you so long as you try that kind of blackmail on me,’ she said weakly. ‘Why should that worry me?’ ‘Why indeed ?’ What did he care about her respect? Besides, the low opinion she had of herself tended to be catching. She was reduced to playing the part of a life-line, a safety device against disaster. Only three years ago, in Paris, living alone or with whomever she pleased, she could breathe freely.

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