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Beauvoir wondered what exactly Sandon considered the ‘real’ world

‘Why don’t you like Monsieur Béliveau?’ asked Gamache It took Sandon a moment to tear his rocer He looked down at his massive hands and picked at a callus

‘There was aand a huge li so I asked if I could remove the limb, help the tree He refused’

‘Why?’ asked Beauvoir

Gilles looked at the off the branch That was a risk, I admitted, but told him the tree was in pain and it would be more merciful for it to either live healthy or die quickly’

‘But he didn’t believe you?’

He shook his head ‘Took four years for that tree to die I could hear it crying for help I begged Béliveau but he wouldn’t hear of it Thought the tree was getting better’

‘He didn’t know,’ said Gaed, dis Madeleine wasn’t part of it?’ asked Gamache

‘He should have protected her He should have protected the tree He looks so gentle but he’s a bad one’

What had Monsieur Béliveau called his death That was it First his wife, then Madeleine, then the bird And the tree Things died around Monsieur Béliveau

Thethe sweet, musty aroma of moist pines and autumn leaves and new buds

‘Now I come out here and find trees already dead and turn them into furniture’

‘Give them new life,’ said Gamache

Sandon looked at him ‘I don’t suppose you hear the trees?’

Ga, then shook it Sandon nodded