" You are amazing!” exclaimed Charlotte. “You talk about it so calmly!” Monsieur Péricand turned towards his wife, his face gradually returning to its normal pinkish colour—a matte pink, the colour of pigs who have been recently slaughtered. “That’s because I can’t really believe it,” he explained quietly. “Here I am, speaking to you, listening to you; we’ve decided to flee, to leave our home, yet I cannot believe that it is all real. Do you understand? "
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