CHAPTER THIRTEENIn between the straitlaced, righteous little towns the countryside flashed green: the tired, maternal green of fields in high summer, the chemical green of abandoned quarries full of standing water, the munificent green of hedgerows. River rolled into river and Colin and Delphine stood to attention and saluted the statue of Napoleon, as he lorded it over the point where the Yonne branched off from the Seine.
The rain petered out, leaving the sky moist and discoloured like skin when you rip away a plaster; the weather remained queasy and convalescent. When the umbrella had dried out, Colin took it down and put it in the locker and the world seemed brighter in the revealed light. The effect of it was lost on Delphine, who seemed heavy limbed; he could sense the melodrama of
