At the bottom of the trunk was a large manila envelope, unmarked. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. Why did he care? “I could never marry a girl who’s not a virgin. The latter began to heave himself up from the sand. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. Her name was Rhea.
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