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The Weekend Australian - Travel - - Travel & Indulgence -

‘PIERRE leans on his shiny black cane. It is hot in the mid­dle of Paris near the mar­kets. It is only early, barely seven in the morn­ing, and al­ready he is per­spir­ing . . . He sur­rep­ti­tiously wipes his puffy cheeks, try­ing at the same time not to smear the thick pink pow­der he stole from his wife’s bureau in the tiny apart­ment in Mont­martre. Pierre plas­tered it care­fully over the lines and pits in his face, hop­ing to hide his age so he might con­tinue to get work as a porter at the mar­kets.’

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