Paris: The Novel

little brother,” said Thomas.

    Édith met them at the door. She greeted them both, offered her cheek to Luc to kiss, as he was Thomas’s brother, and took them inside.
    “Monsieur Ney is out, but he’s coming here shortly,” she told them. “But Mademoiselle Hortense is here. She’s calling on Madame Govrit, and my aunt says you should go up there to relieve her. Madame Govrit likes to see new people.”
    The old lady was propped up in her handsome bed as usual. She had a lace cap on her head. On the bed lay some magazines that Mademoiselle Hortense had brought her, and as they entered, the lawyer’s daughter was sitting very upright, with perfect posture, on a chair beside the bed. Thomas and Luc bowed to them both politely. Madame Govrit stared at them.
    “I remember you,” she said to Thomas. “Are you still building that monstrous tower?”
    “Yes, madame. It’s my job. I’m sorry.”
    The old lady gave a sniff.
    “Well, you’d better come closer so I can hear you better. And who’s this?” She indicated Luc.
    “My little brother, Luc, madame.”
    “Is he building the tower too?”
    “Non, madame.”
    “I’m glad to hear it. He has more sense than you.” She looked appraisingly at Luc. “He’ll be very handsome, this one, don’t you think?” she remarked to Hortense. Hortense bowed her head slightly to indicate that it might be so. “He looks sly. I like him. Are you sly, young man?”
    “I am whatever a lady likes me to be,” said Luc in his smoothest manner.
    “Oh, what cheek!” exclaimed the old lady with delight. “What a youngvillain.” She addressed Hortense again. “Do not marry the young one, my dear. He’ll lead you a dance. The older one looks more stable, I think. Not so amusing, but …” She shifted her gaze back to Luc. “Ah, but he has mischievous eyes.”
    Mademoiselle Hortense slowly turned and looked at the two Gascon boys. Her eyes rested on Luc, but only briefly. Then she transferred them to Thomas.
    Her eyes were a very deep brown. He hadn’t noticed before how dark they were. Almost chocolate. The color was deep, but the eyes gave nothing away. He could find no emotion in them, nor any expression on her long, pale face. She was wearing a fashionable riding habit, whose narrow waist and swelling line accentuated her small breasts. Even more than before, the pale lawyer’s daughter seemed to suggest erotic possibilities to him. She rose.
    “I must leave you with these two young men, madame,” she said in a low voice. Yet as she passed him, Thomas thought that she paused, just for a moment, before moving to the door. And however absurdly, the thought came into his mind: Perhaps, if she liked him … after all, she must be nearly thirty, and wasn’t married yet … what a surprise for his family if, having turned down the daughter of La Veuve Michel, he were instead to waltz off with the heiress of rich Monsieur Ney, the
notaire
.
    Luc meanwhile was wasting no time in amusing old Madame Govrit.
    “Do you play cards, madame?”
    “I used to, young man, but I haven’t any cards now.”
    Luc reached into his pocket and produced two packs of cards.
    “Tiens,”
she cried, “this young man has everything. You have two packs?”
    “
Oui, madame
. Shall we play bezique?”
    She clapped her hands with pleasure.
    “Excellent.”
    As bezique was played by two, Thomas contented himself with supplying a tray, which was placed on the bed, and with watching while the old lady and his brother played. He couldn’t tell whether Luc was letting her, but the old lady was taking more of the tricks and becoming quite animated. This continued very agreeably for almost half an hour. At the end of the game, the victorious lady gave them both a smile.
    “That’s enough, young man,” she said to Luc. “But you have given megreat pleasure.” She nodded at Thomas. “I hope you have not been too bored, monsieur.”
    “Not at all, madame. My little brother has too good an opinion of himself, so I like to see him defeated.”
    “And what do you think of this tower your brother is building?” she asked Luc. “They say it is seen from all over Paris, but I can’t see it from my window.”
    “It’s already taller than the highest cathedral spire in Europe,” Luc told her. “You can certainly see it from the avenue de la Grande-Armée.”
    “I want to see it,” Madame Govrit declared. “I want to see it now. We still have a couple of hours of light. Will