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Jeanne, having finished her packing, approached the window, but the rain did not stop. The downpour had been drumming against the panes and roofs all night. The low sky, heavy with water, seemed pierced, emptying itself onto the earth, diluting it into slush, melting it like sugar. Gusts passed full of heavy heat. The roar of overflowing streams filled the deserted streets where the houses, like sponges, drank the humidity that penetrated inside and made the walls sweat from cellar to attic.