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"Monsieur Comeau," she said "É at Ga hi of the Société Cha Gaain He waited until he heard her steps disappear then looked around at the acres of books Where to start?

"Are you close? Are you going to ue had finally worn Morin down, so that his fear, contained for so long, boiled out through frayed nerves and down the telephone line

"We’ll make it Trust me"

There was a pause "Are you sure?" The voice was strained, almost squeaky

"I’m sure Are you afraid?"

There was no answer, just silence and then a keening

"Agent Morin," said Ga up at his desk He waited and still there was no reply, except the sound which said it all

Ga in particular About spring flowers and wrapping presents for his grandchildren, about lunches at Leméac Bistro on rue Laurier and his father’s favorite song And in the background was a wailing, a sobbing and coughing, a howling as Agent Morin finally broke down It surprised Ga

But noas out, and fled down the phone line

Chief Inspector Ga at Mont Saint-Rémy and Clara Morrow’s art and Ruth Zardo’s poetry and slowly, in the background, the howling beca breath and the breath becaain

Outside the office, through the large glass , the agents, analysts, special investigators and Chief Superintendent Francoeur all stopped and stared at the Chief Inspector, and listened to the agent who had been so brave and was now falling apart

Down in her direen, she listened

"Are you with ent Morin?"

"Yes sir" But the voice was small, uncertain

"I will find you in time" Each as said slowly, deliberately Wordsthe worst"

"But--"

"Listen toIt’s natural, but youthe bo, as though Morin had run a race