Chapter 36

Bezu Fache, the angriest man in France, sees through all Sophie's brilliant schemes, or so it seems. With a fusillade of extraneous italics and incongruous blasphemy (would such a devout Catholic refer to travel, lodging and cash as "The Holy Trinity"?), he calls on the might of Interpol to squash these two annoying gnats.

"They won't last till dawn," he sneers, and the whole line may just as well have "DRAMATIC IRONY" stickers all over it.

I realise who Fache and Collet really remind me of, apart from the cartoon Clouseau. It's Peter Glaze and Don Maclean in Crackerjack.

I now feel exceedingly old.