Paris: The Novel

always has her picture of the Virgin and Child,” said Édith. “Margot polishes the glass whenever she goes in. You know how Mademoiselle Bac always seems completely still, but I can see her looking at the picture.”
    “Religion is a great comfort,” said her mother with a wise nod of the head.
    “Indeed,” said Ney, as he stepped toward the door, and Thomas secretly wondered if the comforting picture would remain.
    “And Mademoiselle Hortense is well?” asked Édith’s mother.
    “She is.”
    “Ah,” said Édith’s mother, “she has everything. She is beautiful, she is kind …”
    Monsieur Ney left the room.
    A few minutes passed in desultory conversation, then Aunt Adeline pulled out a little silver watch on a chain and looked at it.
    “I have duties now, and Édith will be helping me,” she said.
    Thomas took the hint and began to rise.
    “Perhaps the young man would like to stay with me and have a cognac,” said Édith’s mother.
    Aunt Adeline looked at her as one might at a waterlogged old ship sinking inconveniently in a harbor.
    “Sadly, I have to go, madame,” Thomas lied.

    Outside in the street, he paused. He’d nothing special to do. Dusk would soon begin to fall. He went and stood opposite the handsome front door. Looking up, he was fairly sure he could identify the big window of Madame Govrit’s room. As for Mademoiselle Bac’s dingy attic, that would be up in the roof, toward the back, well out of sight.
    Judging by what he’d seen of Édith’s mother, he supposed the lodgings she and Édith shared were not a lot better.
    He walked back past the archway and turned the corner. This side of the building consisted of a high house wall, punctuated by some small, narrow windows, which continued as the courtyard wall. As he movedalong the house wall, he calculated that just before the courtyard began, he must be level with Aunt Adeline’s quarters. Just above his head there was a small window that was slightly open. He guessed that it probably belonged to her kitchen. He paused there for a moment, wondering if perhaps he might hear Édith’s voice.
    But it was Aunt Adeline’s voice that he heard.
    “You heard him,
ma chérie
. That stupid comment about Mademoiselle Bac. He was just trying to be cheeky to Monsieur Ney.”
    “Monsieur Ney called him an excellent young man,” Édith’s voice replied.
    “Yes. Out of kindness to you. But he was not pleased, I assure you. And you cannot afford a young man who annoys Monsieur Ney.”
    Édith said something else, but Thomas couldn’t hear what it was.
    “My child,” answered Aunt Adeline, “I don’t care if the young man went to the moon to look for you. We have one fool in the family already. Forgive me, but that’s your mother. We can’t afford two. Let us not see this Thomas Gascon again, if you please. You can do better.”

    For the next three days, Thomas waited uneasily. He believed in fate. His parents might not like it, but he wanted Édith. Did she feel the same way?
    On Wednesday, he waited near the lycée in the evening. Édith and her mother came out together as usual. But instead of separating, they went home together, and not wanting to encounter the mother, Thomas hung back. If Édith caught sight of him, she gave no indication. The next night the same thing happened.
    Friday was a cold November day. An icy wind entered the city from the east. It hissed cruelly through the girders of the tower as he worked, biting his hands, and snaked down the boulevards, stripping the brown leaves from the trees.
    Work ended at dusk and as soon as he got across the river he found a bar where he could get a large bowl of soup to warm himself up. Then he walked up the rue de la Pompe. The lights in the lycée were just being extinguished as he got there. He was determined to speak with her this evening, whether she separated from her mother or not. But a few moments later he saw her come out alone. He went straight up to her.
    “Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”
    “Of course it’s me. Where’s your mother?”
    “She’s sick today.”
    “I’ll walk with you,” he said. Then, as they passed a bar, he remarked that he needed to warm up, and guided her in.
    “Only for a minute,” she said.
    They sat at a table and he ordered them each a glass of wine.
    “It’s good to see you,” he said. “I was glad to meet your family.”
    “Yes.”
    “What are you doing this Sunday?”
    “Looking after my mother