The Mole’s Writings In The Grey Notebook Iv
i 1911For a few hours, Proveron had seen the world around him in the absurd bright red and green shades of a Scandinavian Christmas Party.
It made him happy.
The trésorier of the administrative headquarters of the Parisian officialdom had many reasons to drink, but few good ones. Proveron wobbled on the stairs leading from the second to the third floor. The grey-painted corridor didn’t brighten the treasurer’s mood. He burped softly and tried to make his laborious climbing look more normal. Any moment a colleague might use the stairs and if Proveron’s glassy eyes didn’t betray him, his breath would.
Proveron reassured himself. It was almost six o’clock and his office floor would be as good as deserted. Nevertheless, he had to watch out for Ad
