French, go home! (EN)

The Swiss left on time. At the chalet in the Haut-Doubs, Gonzague de Saint-Sulpice had found Marjolaine again, his croissant dipped in the milk and fourteen pages, including a preface. One evening, Marjolaine called for ‘a bit of panache’. The next morning, there was one more step. They measure seventy-five centimetres, wear blue overalls and helmets a little too large. They break nothing: they raise. A repaired roof lacks élan; it grows a storey, then a wing, then a palace. Committees of the Better, invitations to tender, ideas competitions: it remains only to find someone ill-mannered enough to say: enough.