I thanked him, came out of the Ritz, and crossed the Place Vendôme. I was still in such a state of panic that I almost didn’t see a motor car, driven fast, until its klaxon sounded, making me leap backward, my heart now pounding. I would never get used to the speed of automobiles and the way they came up on me. I made my way back to the gardens and that lovely colonnade and turned right as instructed. I wondered if it really would only take me fifteen minutes to walk to the American Club, and wondered how long it would then take to reach Mr. Bryce’s house. I couldn’t leave Liam with Madeleine for too long, especially not past his next feeding. It wouldn’t be right, even though I trusted her to take good care of him. I started walking even faster in the shade of the colonnade, not daring even to glance at those enticing boutiques and little cafés. The colonnade ended at a vast open area with what looked like an Egyptian obelisk in the middle and traffic circulating at great speed around it. Vague memories stirred of those long-ago French lessons. “Place de la Concorde,” I muttered, and waited until the policeman who was directing traffic from a platform in the middle of the street blew his whistle for us to cross. As I made my way down to the river I felt the fresh breeze in my face, tinged with that smell of water and rotting things that seems to come from rivers.

The scene along the riverbank was quite delightful with more gardens and what looked like a palace beside me, more impressive buildings on the far bank and a procession of little steamers, tugboats, and barges making their way up and downstream. And there ahead of me that improbable edifice, Mr. Eiffel’s tower, soaring over the rest of the city. How could those women not have been impressed by it? To me it was a marvel and I would have liked to have had time to go up it.