The narrator receives a call from Raymond at the office. Raymond relays an invitation to spend Sunday at a beach house near Algiers, adding that the hostess—his friend’s wife—will also be invited so she won’t be alone with a group of men. Raymond then asks the narrator to keep an eye out for a particular Arab who has been following him all day, promising to update later.

Later the boss summons the narrator. Rather than scold him for the phone call, the boss shares a vague business plan: he intends to open an office in Paris to deal directly with big companies and wants the narrator’s opinion on the prospect of moving there and splitting time between Paris and the current location. The narrator expresses indifference, claiming he is content where he is, which frustrates the boss, who accuses him of lacking ambition.

That evening Marie Cardona visits. She asks if he will marry her. He replies that it makes no difference to him and that they could marry if she wishes. She presses about love; he repeats his detached stance, saying he probably does not love her. Their conversation becomes a philosophical exchange about the meaning of marriage, love, and potential future proposals with other women. Marie eventually declares she loves him because he is “peculiar,” though she warns he might one day hate her for the same reason. She kisses him and they agree to marry whenever she wants.

The narrator tells Marie about the boss’s Paris proposal; she shows enthusiasm for seeing Paris. He describes his brief experience there as dirty, full of pigeons, dark courtyards, and pale people. They walk through the town’s main streets, admire the women, and discuss having dinner together at Céleste’s. Marie declines due to other commitments, and as they part she teases him about wanting to know what she must do, then moves toward him to kiss him.

At Céleste’s the narrator dines alone. A strange little woman enters, asks to sit with him, and orders her entire meal in a rapid, clear voice. She meticulously totals the bill, places the exact amount and tip on the table, then, between courses, pulls out a blue pencil and a radio‑program magazine, checking off each program with great care. After finishing, she leaves robotically, and the narrator follows her for a short distance, watching her swift, confident stride before losing sight of her.

Returning home, the narrator finds old Salamano waiting outside, distressed because his dog is lost. Salamano explains the dog may have been hit by a car and that the police consider such incidents routine. He sits to talk, removing his felt hat, and recounts his own life: a late marriage, a brief aspiration for theater during army service, work on the railroads, and the acquisition of the dog after his wife’s death. He describes feeding the dog from a bottle, sharing an ill temper but also affection, and the dog’s eventual illness from old age. Salamano reveals that neighborhood gossip views the narrator poorly for having sent his mother to the old‑people’s home, though he knows the narrator loved his mother. The narrator notes the home seemed the only option given his limited funds. Salamano reflects on his changed life, offers his hand, and wishes the dogs not to bark that night before leaving.