Part 7 As they came back from that day’s climb—it was up the Mittaghorn—they had to cross a shining space of wet, steep rocks between two grass slopes that needed a little care. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. I would not think so of you, Marthe. White, who held out her hand and beamed a welcome upon him. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. ‘That he can say he was married only to Suzanne all the time.
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