[A childhood memory, from chapter “Magagnosc”; translated
by Norman Denny.]
. . . I had a glass cage full of lizards, glow-worms and
salamanders, made for me by the son of the owner of the villa, who was a
cabinet-maker. I kept them in my bedroom and always carried one around with me
hidden under my shirt.
This led to a painful incident which I have never forgotten. We were travelling back to Paris by train, Gabrielle, my father and mother, and me. A very thin Englishwoman entered our compartment at Saint-Raphael and could not take her eyes off my golden locks. ‘Such a sweet little girl, such pretty hair!’ she exclaimed with a strong English accent. A small lizard which I was taking with me to Paris popped its head out of the middy-blouse of which I was particularly proud – there were no girls in the Navy. At the sight of it the English lady uttered a piercing shriek. [My father] did his best to soothe her, but in vain. She rushed out into the corridor and came back with the guard, who insisted on the animal being handed over to him. He took it from me without gentleness. A lizard’s skin is very sensitive and the grasp of a rough hand must be painful to it. The guard mercilessly flung my small pet out of the window. The English lady, relieved, settled back in her corner and, indifferent to my sobbing, began to read the Bible.