Sinopsis

The fast Paris-Ventimiglia train, one of the Grand European Expresses, had
stopped a moment at Marseilles.
It was about seven in the morning of a winter day. The huge cars, with
their bevelled-glass windows, dripped water from all parts; the locomotive
puffed, resting from its run, and the bellows between car and car, like great
accordeons, had black drops slipping down their corrugations.
The rails shone; they crossed over one another, and fled into the distance
until lost to sight. The train windows were shut; silence reigned in the
station; from time to time there resounded a violent hammering on the
axles; a curtain here or there was raised, and behind the misted glass the
d...