'How can I get it through your thick skull?' Dubreuilh said, shrugging his shoulders. 'Being on the side of the Resistance doesn't constitute a political programme nowadays.'

'No, I don't have a programme,' Henri admitted. 'But whenever the occasion demands it, L'Espoir does choose sides.'

'No, it doesn't, not any more so than all the other papers. You argue about trifles, but when it comes to the big things, all of you somehow manage to agree on covering up the truth.' There was anger in Dubreuilh's voice. 'From Figaro to L'Humanite, you're all nothing but a bunch of humbugs. You say yes to de Gaulle, yes to Yalta, yes to everything; you act as if you believe there's still a Resistance and that we're heading steadily towards socialism. Your friend- Luc has really been going to town with that hogwash in his recent editorials. All we're doing, really, is marking time; in fact, we're even beginning to retreat. And not a one of you has the guts to tell the truth!'

'I always thought you agreed with L'Espoir,' Henri said. He was stunned; his heart began beating rapidly. During the past four days, he had meshed with that paper as one meshes with one's own life. And then all of a sudden L'Espoir was being indicted. And by Dubreuilh!

'Agree with what?' Dubreuilh asked. 'L'Espoir has no line. You're constantly complaining that nothing's been nationalized. And what do you do about it? Nothing. Now what would be interesting would be to tell who's putting on the brakes, and why.'