I awoke, realizing that the bang that had woken me had been a shot fired in the street. I laid the sleeping Liam beside me and went over to the window. I opened the shutter but heard nothing more. I remembered all the talk of duels and Picasso saying that he hadn’t shot his pistol for days. This was a violent city. Lots of things could go wrong here. I tried to fall back to sleep, wondering what the woman in my dream had meant when she said it was quite obvious.

The next morning I awoke with a headache that thundery weather and lack of sleep would always bring on in me. Liam seemed quite recovered from his fretful night and was raring to go. I nursed him, fed him farina for his breakfast, and then made myself a boiled egg with yesterday’s stale bread. I wasn’t going down all those stairs just to get a fresh loaf. Then when we were both washed and dressed I took Liam back to the bakery.

“If I am imposing on you too much, please tell me,” I said.

Madeleine looked amused. “Too much? Madame Sullivan, I grew up looking after seven younger brothers and sisters and helping out on the farm. Two small children and one small apartment seems like a holiday for me. Besides, I like to play with your son. My own baby is still too small. All he wants to do is eat and sleep. Your boy makes me laugh.”

So I left him with a clear conscience, knowing that Madame Hetreau would probably be gossiping again with the neighbors about the flighty woman from America who was off gallivanting and leaving her baby to strangers. I had asked the baker whether there might be any tearooms in the neighborhood. He mentioned a couple of cafés that served tea. “But not exactly tea salons, Madame. For those you must go to the better arondissements—the first and the sixth. That is where people do not have to work hard all day and have time to take tea with their friends,” he said.

I thanked him and took the Métro back to the city center. I remembered Ellie mentioning a teahouse on the Rue de Rivoli, so that seemed like a good place to start. I walked the length of the colonnade glancing into all the little shops and cafés until I finally found an attractive establishment called Angelina. It did look very inviting with its display of exquisite pastries and little marble tables. I stood hesitating in the doorway, wondering what to say that would not sound completely mad, when I heard voices echoing from the arched ceiling of the colonnade.