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boat that was being winched up on to the pebble beach with a
     capstan.
    To right and left, light-coloured
     cliffs. Straight ahead, the sea, pale green with white combers, and the regular
     murmur of wavelets lapping the shoreline.
    â€˜A beer!’
    The sun was hot. A family were eating
     ice-creams on the next table. A young man was taking photos with a Kodak, and
     somewhere there were the shrill voices of little girls.
    Maigret allowed his eyes to wander over
     the view. His thoughts grew hazy, and his brain sluggishly started weaving a
     daydream around Captain Fallut, who became increasingly insubstantial.
    â€˜Thanks a million!’
    The words went round and round in his
     head, not on account of their meaning, but because they had been pronounced curtly,
     with biting sarcasm, by a woman somewhere behind the inspector.
    â€˜But Adèle, I told you
     …’
    â€˜Shut up!’
    â€˜You’re not going to start
     all that again …’
    â€˜I’ll do exactly as I
     please!’
    It was obviously a good day for
     arguments. First thing that morning, Maigret had encountered a man who bristled: the
     head man from French Cod.
    At Yport, there had been that domestic
     scene between the Laberges. And now on the hotel terrace an unknown couple were
     exchanging heated words.
    â€˜Why don’t you stop and
     think!’
    â€˜Get lost!’
    â€˜Do you think it’s clever to
     talk like that?’
    â€˜Damn and blast you! Haven’t
     you got the message yet? … Waiter, this lemonade is warm. Get me another!’
    The accent was common, and the woman was
     speaking more loudly than was necessary.
    â€˜But you must make up your
     mind!’ the man said.
    â€˜Just go by yourself! I told you!
     And leave me alone.’
    â€˜You know, what you’re doing
     is pretty shabby.’
    â€˜So are you!’
    â€˜Me? You dare … Listen, if we
     weren’t here, I don’t think I’d be able to keep control of
     myself!’
    She laughed. Much too loudly.
    â€˜You tell a girl the nicest
     things!’
    â€˜Be quiet! Please!’
    â€˜Why should I?’
    â€˜Because!’
    â€˜Now that really is a clever
     answer, I must say!’
    â€˜Are you going to shut
     up?’
    â€˜If I feel like it.’
    â€˜Adèle, I’m warning you
     I’ll …’
    â€˜You’ll what? Kick up a fuss
     in front of everybody? And where would that get you? People are already
     listening.’
    â€˜If only you’d stop and
     think for a moment, you’d understand.’
    She sprang to her feet like someone who
     has had enough. Maigret had his back turned to her but saw her shadow grow bigger on
     the tiled floor of the terrace.
    Then he saw her, from the back, as she
     walked off in the direction of the sea.
    From behind, she was just a silhouette
     against the sky, which was now turning red. All Maigret could make out was that she
     was quite well-dressed, but not for the beach, not with silk stockings and high
     heels.
    It was an outfit which made it difficult
     for her to walk elegantly over the pebble beach. At any moment she could twist an
     ankle, but she was furiously, stubbornly determined to forge ahead.
    â€˜Waiter, what do I owe
     you?’
    â€˜But I haven’t brought the
     lemonade which the lady …’
    â€˜Forget it! What’s the
     damage?’
    â€˜Nine francs fifty … Won’t
     you be having dinner here?’
    â€˜No idea.’
    Maigret turned round to get a sight of
     the man, who
was looking very awkward
     because he was well aware that everyone nearby had heard everything.
    He was tall and flashily elegant. His
     eyes looked tired, and his utter frustration was written all over his face.
    When he stood up, he hesitated about
     which way to go and in the end, trying to look as if he didn’t give a damn
     about anything, he set off in the direction of the young woman, who was