Thirty-fourThe landscape stretched out far below, rolling hills and endless common land interspersed with farms, a patchwork quilt of various coloured and different-sized fields separated by hedgerows and winding lanes. Françoise viewed it all with controlled detachment, a half-eye kept on the pilot next to him, who peddled furiously in order to maintain the tautness of the clockwork mechanism which drove the rotor blades. Every now and then, the man would wipe his forehead and blow out long breaths, but his thickset legs gave evidence to years of such service, so Françoise felt reassured. The pilot's heart must be as big as an ox's, Françoise thought as the tiny aircraft banked and soared through the air with ease. Not for the first time, Françoise marvelled at the simplicity of the machi
