He hesitated outside the little boutiques, which were all that Nice offered. The toilet articles were easy. He had been pressured into buying a bottle of cologne by the assistant in the chemist’s shop; he had a hairbrush, comb, a plastic bag with a toothbrush and paste and a sponge. He disliked strong scent but the cologne, which he hadn’t wanted to buy, was fresh and clean. He remembered how hot that upstairs bedroom was. Even without the mesh over the window, it caught the full afternoon sun. Perhaps the cologne was a good idea. Inside a boutique, he caused confusion by asking for a size twelve in a dressing gown; there was a long caftan which would be useful and this was finally wrapped for him, the French sizing having been established. He found a blouse and a light cotton dress which weren’t too expensive, and went back to the car. He had been disgusted by the prices; the sales girls irritated him by their attempts to foist things on him which were unsuitable. He drove back feeling resentful and suspicious that in some way he had made a fool of himself and that everything he had bought was too expensive and wouldn’t fit.
