Foreign News: An Ordinary Frenchman

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Late in the morning the stocky man stirs in the old-fashioned featherbed, and demands his café au lait. He dumps in three lumps of sugar, shrugs into an old bathrobe, then sprawls on the bed again as he scans the morning papers. Soon he is dictating orders, directives and notes to his black-haired wife, her typewriter propped on a suitcase beside the bed. Before he is dressed, cars come honking down a narrow street usually disturbed only by the clump of a cart or a delivery boy's whistle, and men in leather...

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