“I’ll go then. Good-by, sweet.”
“Good-by,” Catherine said, “and have a fine breakfast for me too.”
“Where can I get breakfast?” I asked the nurse.
“There’s a café down the street at the square,” she said. “It should be open now.”
Outside it was getting light. I walked down the empty street to the café. There was a light in the window. I went in and stood at the zinc bar and an old man served me a glass of white wine and a brioche. The brioche was yesterday’s. I dipped it in the wine and then drank a glass of coffee.
“What do you do at this hour?” the old man asked.
“My wife is in labor at the hospital.”
“So. I wish you good luck.”
“Give me another glass of wine.”
He poured it from the bottle slopping it over a little so some ran down on the zinc. I drank this glass, paid and went out. Outside along the street were the refuse cans from the houses waiting for the collector. A dog was nosing at one of the cans.