‘As to that,’ he replied, his smile fading, ‘I can’t give you a decision at once. I shall have to study the file.’

Micheline had been right in her cynicism. However, since Ariane had lugged the suitcase full of food all the way there, she wouldn’t take it back again. She was afraid of being too blatant in her offer of a bribe and left the case by her chair without opening it. In this she was wrong, she discovered later. He was used to goods placed naked on the desk. A glance at the chicken breast would had more impact than ogling her.

‘And plumper too,’ she said to Florence and Micheline later, ‘even with the handkerchiefs in my bodice.’

Her rendering of the breathy, fluttering creature that she had played made Florence laugh and the two of them became almost hysterical. Micheline was mending the girls’ cotton stockings that they wore to mass. They were a patchwork of darns held together by a web of the original mesh. Frowning over her spectacles, she looked particularly severe.

‘It’s just as I said. He took everything. It doesn’t matter what you do. You could sleep with him and it’d make no difference.’

‘I decided against sleeping with him,’ Ariane said, still laughing. ‘And with that great belly, how could he manage? His cock wouldn’t emerge from under it.’

Micheline looked yet more disapproving.

‘I’m going back in two days’ time to try again,’ Ariane continued. ‘We’ll need a duck this time and butter.’

When she was admitted to Wilder’s office, she found him in a jovial mood. ‘Another little bag of evidence,’ he said genially.

She simpered. She had never understood before how it was done. Now she found that she did it naturally: a suppressed giggle, the chin pulled in, the eyes cast down.

‘I hope I shall soon have my farm manager back or I shall have no more evidence to offer.’

He evaded this, tapping his sausage-fingers on the blotter. ‘It’s such a beautiful day, I suggest a cup of coffee in the square.’

It was mid-afternoon and they sat at a cafe table in the sunshine to drink the ersatz coffee. This is part of the price, to be seen with him, she told herself, as she smiled and smiled and hoped that no one she knew would pass.

Wilder was talking about food. He missed some of the delicacies of their own area. The foie gras here was not as refined as that of Alsace. And they had nothing like the range of pork products they had in Strasbourg. Eventually he hauled his gross body out of his seat and shook her hand. ‘I’ll say goodbye to you here. Very nice to have made the acquaintance of a lady from Alsace. I hope you’ll find your farm manager comes back to you soon.’

Her persistence was rewarded. The following day Henri returned to the farm.

Ariane took his cigarette from Theo. ‘So that’s one part of my collaboration.’