French Exit

French Exit

Malcolm was yet in his suite. He was speaking to Susan on the phone. “Let’s eat food, for lunch,” she said. “Can’t do that.” “Let’s drink a drink in a bar.” “No.” Recalling certain past behaviors, she deduced he was in the grips of the hotel unwellness. In a patient...
Scoop

Scoop

That evening, sometime after the advertised hour, Mr. Salter alighted at Boot Magna Halt. An hour earlier, at Taunton, he had left the express, and changed into a train such as he did not know existed outside the imagination of his Balkan correspondents; a single...