Marc quickly understands that the situation is becoming tense and invites Murielle to take a walk outside. I see them leaving the room with a great relief.An hour and a half later, a break is proposed. I'm surprised not seeing Murielle that should have been back now. I decide to go looking for her and I tell my colleagues that I’ll be away but not for long.After throwing a glance in the Park, I walk through corridors, opening and closing doors hoping to discover my wife that I imagine is sleeping on a Chair. And it is precisely when closing the door of a huge room filled with odds and ends that I hear whispers. I enter the room and it's more out of curiosity than by the idea of finding Murielle that I'm heading silently towards the place where these whispers are coming from. At the corner of a huge wardrobe, I stop with amazement: my wife is there in front of me, her jacket on the floor; I see her from the back; her legs are slightly spread apart, the skirt is lifted up to the hips,. On the first day of high school she was stopped in the hallways three times by teachers who thought she was at the wrong school. She did finally hit puberty when she was fifteen, but it was a disappointment. The changes that she had watched happen to everyone else were not what happened to her. Instead of growing taller she had a little growth spurt that got her all the way to four foot nine and a half inches. Then she stopped. She grew the hair the books said she would grow, but not much. She shaved her arm pits once a week, but only for psychological reasons. Her hair was strawberry blond and there were only a few hairs in each pit. If she let them grow no one would even have noticed them. From the time she was eleven she had looked at her self, at the spot where her legs came together, wondering when the hair would grow there. It did, when she was sixteen, but so few of the strawberry blond hairs that from four feet away they were nearly invisible. As a senior in high school she.
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