Men of Good Will Book 4. [antikvár]

ALL the north-east of Paris, as we have seen, is occupied by a salient of a great plateau. Northwards, its slopes fall away rather steeply towards the canal and the high-road that lead to Germany, and, southwards, they sink gently towards the Seine. It is only westwards that they become sheer. On top of this plateau, not far from its northern escarpment, the Place des Fetes displays itself, with its rows of trees, its lawns, its bandstand, and its setting of old, low houses. It was into the Place des Fetes that Wazemmes emerged, after being on the go since eight o'clock in the morning. It was in the Place des Fetes that Edmond Maillecottin was pacing up and down, with his head thrust forward a little and his hands behind his back, never taking his eyes off the front of a tavern. Meanwhile, eight kilometres away, in the west of Paris, Haverkamp was on his way to Les Ternes underground station. He was going to keep an appointment which he had made with Wazemmes for noon, at the Cochon d'Or restaurant in the rue d'Allemagne, opposite La Villette cattle-market. He was early. His business in Les Ternes had not kept him as long as he expected. He would get out of the underground at the Allemagne station, and, if he still had time, he would go the rest of the way on foot. Wazemmes was thirsty. Or, to be more exact, he was feeling rather tired.