Chapter Forty-Eight
Excited voices echoed in the courtyard. Denis woke up from his slumber, looked at his watch. 9.30 a.m. The more his mind wandered in its self-made labyrinth, the more chaotic his nights became. He stood up from the sofa on which he’d dozed and looked through his window. In the centre of the courtyard, two police-officers stood next to Ferrand and Mainsermant, listening to what Mainsermant was saying. The cops were grey-haired and one of them so withered that he looked ridiculous in his baggy uniform. The government only had older men to spare for the police force in the non-battle zones of France. All the younger men were drafted for military service.
Denis adjusted his clothing, took his coat, and left his room. When he came to the yard, a group of patients had gathe
