Читать книгу The Curious Case of Dassoukine's Trousers - Fouad Laroui - Страница 2

What would it be like, he asked himself, walking slowly in the direction of his house, where his wife Anna was waiting for him—sweet, kind Anna, whom he had ended up marrying in order to settle down (isn’t that what it was called, in times past, in the world of Parisian courtesans?—Oh Maati, you and your French references…and sometimes she would add: You aren’t even French, you’re Moroccan.)—a world where everything was foreign?