Voltaire

Candide, who trembled like a philosopher, hid himself as well as he could during this heroic butchery.

Candide, who trembled like a philosopher, hid himself as well as he could during this heroic butchery.

– Voltaire –

Candide

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Stuart Bone

There was a steady throng of people in the market square now and a distinct buzz in the air with the sound of excited chatter alongside the clamour of heels on cobbles and the raised voices of the stallholders advertising their wares. Upon entering we bumped straight into Josie.”All on your own?” Angela asked her.”I’ve left Sooz looking round the antiques shops,” Josie said, “I went in the first one with her but that was enough for me. I’m not into knick-knacks like she is. I much prefer a good book.””Something classical,” I suggested.”Oh yes, definitely,” Josie replied, “I love the classics. I did have a look at the ones on sale in the shop.””But nothing took your fancy?””Not really. I was fingering ‘Howard’s End’ for a while.””I bet that brought the colour back to his cheeks,” I told her, “We’ll see you at the coach later on.”I grabbed Angela’s arm and we walked off before Josie could ask what I meant.

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