a get-up!’
‘A real lady, huh!’ Nadine said, spinning around. She looked elegant and almost feminine in her fur coat, her nylon stockings, her soft leather shoes.
‘Here, let me take that,’ Vincent offered, relieving Henri of a large duffle bag he was dragging behind him. ‘What’ve you got in here? A body?’
‘One hundred pounds of food!’ Henri replied. ‘Nadine’s going to restock the family cupboard. The problem now is how to get it over to Quai Voltaire.’
‘No problem,’ Vincent said triumphantly.
‘You stole a jeep?’ Nadine asked.
‘I stole nothing,’ he replied. He crossed the driveway and stopped in front of a small black car. ‘She’s all right, isn’t she?’
‘She’s ours?’ Henri asked.
‘Ours,’ Vincent said. ‘Luc finally managed to wangle a deal. What do you think of her?’
‘Very small,’ Nadine said.
‘Well, it’s going to be damned useful to us,’ Henri said, opening the door. They piled the baggage in the back as best they could.
‘Will you take me driving?’ Nadine asked.
‘Are you nuts?’ Vincent said. ‘This car’s a working tool.’ He sat down at the wheel, and the car started off with a painful sputtering. ‘With all your cargo in here, it’s a little crowded,’ he conceded.
‘Are you sure you know how to drive?’ Nadine asked.
‘If you’d seen me the other night zipping along over mined roads in a jeep without headlights, you wouldn’t insult me so gratuitously.’ Vincent turned to Henri. ‘I’ll drop Nadine and take you to the paper,’ he said.
‘Fine. How’s L’Espoir been doing? I didn’t get to see a single copy in that blasted country. Are we still using the postage-stamp format?’
‘We are. They just authorized two new dailies, but for us they can’t seem to find enough paper. But Luc’ll fill you in a lot better than I can; I’ve just got back from the front.’
‘Circulation hasn’t fallen off, has it?’
‘I don’t believe so.’
Henri was anxious to get back to the paper. Only Paula must surely have telephoned the station, must know that the train was on time. She would be sitting there waiting, her eyes riveted to the clock, listening attentively to every sound.
After they had left Nadine in the lift surrounded by her baggage, Henri said, ‘On second thoughts, I think I’ll go home first.’
‘But the boys are waiting for you,’ Vincent protested.
‘Tell them I’ll be over in an hour.’
‘All right. I’ll leave the Rolls to you,’ Vincent said. He stopped the car in front of the house. ‘Should I take the bags out?’ he asked.
‘Just that small one, thanks.’
Unhappily, Henri pushed open the downstairs door, which banged noisily against a garbage pail; the concierge’s dog began barking. Before he even had a chance to knock, Paula had flung open the door to the flat.
‘It’s you! It’s really you!’ For a moment she remained motionless in his arms, and then she stepped back. ‘You look wonderful. You’re all sunburned! Was the trip back tiring?’ She smiled, but a little muscle in the corner of her mouth was quivering spasmodically.
‘Not at all,’ he replied, setting the suitcase down on the couch. ‘Here are some things for you.’
‘How sweet of you!’
‘Open it.’
She opened the suitcase. Silk stockings, doeskin sandals and a handbag to match, lengths of material, scarfs, gloves. He had chosen every article with anxious care and he was a little disappointed when, moved and yet vaguely indulgent, she only looked down at them, without touching them, without even bending over to examine them closely.
‘How really sweet of you!’ she repeated. And then, suddenly turning towards him, she exclaimed. ‘Your suitcases! Where are they?’
‘Downstairs in the car. Did you hear that L’Espoir got a car? Vincent picked me up in it,’ he said animatedly.
‘I’ll call the concierge and get him to bring them up,’ Paula said.
‘Don’t bother,’ Henri said, adding very quickly, ‘How did you spend the month? The weather wasn’t too bad, was it? Did you get out a little?’
‘A little,’ she replied evasively, her face cold and expressionless.
‘Who did you see? What did you do? Tell me all about it.’
‘Oh, nothing very interesting happened,’ she replied. ‘Let’s not talk about me.’ Quickly, but in a listless voice, she added, ‘Your book is a sensation, you know.’
‘I haven’t heard a thing yet. Do they really like it?’
‘Oh, the critics really didn’t understand anything, of course. But even so, they scented a masterpiece in it.’
‘It’s good to hear that,’ he said with a reserved smile. He would have liked to ask her a few questions, but he found Paula’s manner of speaking insufferable. He changed the subject. ‘Did you see the Dubreuilhs? How are they?’
‘I saw Anne for a moment one day; she’s up to her ears in work.’
She answered his questions reluctantly, tight-lipped. And he, he was burning with impatience to get back to his life!
‘Did you keep the back issues of L’Espoir?’ he asked.
‘I didn’t read them.’
‘No?’
‘There was nothing of yours in them. And I had other things to think about.’ She sought his eyes and suddenly her face came to life. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this past month and I’ve come to understand a great many things. I’m sorry about that scene I made before you left. I’m sincerely sorry.’
‘Oh, let’s not talk about that!’ he said. ‘First of all, you didn’t make a scene.’
‘Yes,’ she insisted, ‘I did. And I repeat, I’m truly sorry. I’ve known for a long time that a woman can’t be everything to a man like you. Not even all the women in the world. But I never really accepted it; I’m prepared now to love you with complete generosity, to love you for what you are and not for what I want. You have your mission and that has to come above all else.’
‘What mission?’
She forced a smile. ‘I’ve come to realize that often I must have been a burden to you; I can understand your wanting a little
