Foreign News: Death of Sarret

In sunny Aix-en-Provence, the morbid were up at dawn one day last week, hurrying to the square in front of the ancient Hotel de Ville. Squads of blue-clad soldiers were already there, keeping the crowds as far as possible from an open space in the square's centre. Soon a rattling wagon drove up, loaded with red-painted timbers, ropes, boards. Trained like circus roustabouts, a crew of workmen sprang into action. In three-quarters of an hour uprights and braces were screwed together, the pulley strung, platform, trip lever and block slipped into place. A...

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