Novel In French Novels & Stories

'Two days ago' Why Did they send me to get something from Dad's office when I hadn't entered it for years. I kept on searching for the papers Jack asked me to find but there was a specific drawer that felt weird… too weird. I took the ruler that Dad always kept in the office and placed it on the side of the floor of the drawer and pushed a little… bingo! I was right, there was another layer beneath it and there was a book with only a few French words written on the red leather cover. L'histoire d'une femme morte. Which in English meant : The story of a dead woman.

We pass a couple of signs that, even though I don’t speak French, seem to suggest we’re in a place called Neuville-lès-Dieppe. “It’s too bad we don’t speak French,” I muse, “otherwise we could stop and ask for directions. I guess we could just look confused and say, ‘Paris, see voo play’?” “I speak French,” Grant says. “You do?” Suddenly I remember that he knew the Baudelaire quote Epicurus had sent him: Au revoir, mon hyprocrite lecteur, mon semblable, mon frere. At the time, I had just assumed that someone else had translated it for him. Guess not.