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Ga up a piece of fresh baguette, s it in her mouth Could she really command the Chief Justice like that? Treat him like a chauffeur?

"I asked Thierry for help because I knew he’d be calm Sensible"

"And he’s the Chief Justice?" asked Beauvoir

"I’m an alcoholic, not an idiot," said Suzanne with a sht Gamache But why did she feel she needed one? And why had Chief Justice Pineault chosen this table, away from the others? The worst table on the terrace, and then quickly taken the seat facing the wall

Ga? He’d arrived and gone straight into the bookstore, co out only when Suzanne returned And now he sat with his back to everyone Where he couldn’t see anything, but neither could he be seen

Ga in what Chief Justice Pineault wasthe birds and every now and then glancing into the sky Nor artists, on the verandah of the B and B A few villagers were carrying string bags of groceries hoeneral store And then there were the other bistro patrons, including André Castonguay and François Marois

Clara stood in the hallway, staring at the door, sla the corridors, down the stairwell, and finally out the door Spilling into the bright sunshine

Her eyes wide, her heart pounding Her stoht throw up

"Ah, there you are," said Denis Fortin, standing in the doorway of the bistro He had the great pleasure of seeing André Castonguay jump and almost knock over his white wine

François Marois, however, did not juht Fortin, sunning hiuay "What the hell are you doing here?"

"May I?" asked Fortin, and took a seat at their table before either man could deny him

They’d always denied him a seat at their table For decades The cabal of art dealers and gallery owners Oldan artist and had opened his own gallery they’d closed ranks Against the interloper, the newcomer

Well, he was there now More successful than any of them Except, maybe, these two men Of all the members of the art establishment in Québec, the only those opinion he cared about were Castonguay and Marois