" That’s old Bariteau on his way to laying his eel nets. He won’t be back for another two hours.’ How could old Bariteau see his way in all this blackness? God knows. You sensed the presence of the sea, very close, just at the end of the narrows. You could breathe it in. It was swelling, irresistibly invading the straits. "

― Georges Simenon , The Judge's House (Maigret, #21)