Having dusted off his hat, brushed down his frock-coat and given his boots a quick wipe, he set out to find the rue de l’Éperlan. He dared not ask for directions lest he be recognized and suspicions raised. Finally drawing a complete blank, he spotted a priest and counting on the professional discretion of a clergyman found out from him the way to the address. It was very close. In the next street on the right in fact.

He began to feel a little hesitant. Until this moment he had been blindly following his dead father’s instructions. Now he felt a confusing mixture of sorrow and shame as he thought of himself, a son, soon to be face to face with the woman who had been his father’s mistress. All the old moral strictures lying buried in his unconscious under layer after layer of conventional, received wisdom handed down from generation to generation, everything he had learned from his catechism years and since about loose women and the instinctive mistrust men have of them even if they marry one – all these ignorant, peasant values clamoured inside him, held him back and brought a blush of shame to his cheeks.

Nevertheless, he thought, I promised my father. Mustn’t let him down. The door marked 18 was ajar so he pushed it open and saw beyond it a dark stairway which he climbed as far as the third floor. There he saw first one door, then a second with a bell-pull which he now tugged. The tinkle which he heard echo into the room beyond made his heart sink. The door was opened and he found himself standing opposite a very well-dressed, fresh-faced brunette who was staring at him in astonishment.

He had no idea what to say and she, unaware of anything untoward and expecting his father any minute, did not invite him in. They looked at each other for a full thirty seconds, at the end of which she said: ‘Can I help you, monsieur?’

He murmured, ‘I’m Hautot, the son.’

She started, turned pale and stammered as if she had known him all her life: ‘Oh! Monsieur César?’

‘Yes.’

‘What … what’s … ?’

‘I have a message for you from my father.’

She said, ‘Oh my God!’ and took a step backwards to let him in. He then saw a little boy playing with a cat on the floor in front of a stove where several dishes were cooking.

‘Sit down,’ she said.

He sat down.

‘Well?’ she asked.