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Gaito Gazdanov's Paris / 18
The cafe
I often spent several hours in this cafe. I left my car at the station entrance and waited for the first train at five-thirty.
Between two o’clock in the morning and the arrival of the train, while the other drivers played cards or slept in their cars I preferred to stay there, or go for a walk if it were nice out.
This forced idleness allowed me to familiarize myself with the clientele, which never failed to bear fruit: each night I left the place a little more poisoned. [37]
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