usually, Eric Dupond-Moretti was the sleep heavy, but his first night of guard of the Seals was, he suspected, erratic. He was also one of those dreams of schoolboy angst on the eve of the new school year. Only in the hemicycle of the national Assembly emptied of its parliamentarians, he grabs the microphone. The words come with difficulty. He stumbles on the arguments, the syllables, stutters almost. Bloody tie : she chokes. He hates these links that hinder the word, to him, the virtuoso of the argument. He does, however, have this room in half-circle 200-year-old, with these micro…

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Blondet Eliot/ABACA (x2)