Sue raised her eyebrows and inquired in the voice that had made her such an effective preschool teacher, “Do you mean the Jardin du Luxembourg? That’s not far from the cafés in Saint-Germain.”

But Bill didn’t answer. He and Lucy were already halfway down the block. Lucy felt her spirits lifting, almost as if school was canceled due to snow. “They’re great friends,” she began. “I love them all.”

“But it’s good to be on our own,” said Bill, taking her hand. “Now, the question is, how do we get to this jahr-dan?”

“Let’s not worry about it,” said Lucy. “Let’s just wander a bit and see where we end up.”

“But first, let’s eat,” suggested Bill, leading her into a tiny, crowded café. They squeezed themselves around a free table, lined up with other tables, all occupied. A waiter appeared, gave them menus printed only in French, a bottle of water, and a basket of bread. Lucy consulted the list of specials and quickly decided on the croque-monsieur, which, the menu stated, was made with famed Poilâne bread. Bill skipped the menu and pointed to the dish the neighbor at his left elbow was eating with great enjoyment, and announced he would have the same. Lucy noticed the waiter’s reaction; he seemed both surprised and impressed at this American’s choice.

The food came, and Lucy chewed her way through a lovely toasted cheese sandwich, while Bill dove into his huge plate of winter stew.

“Parsnips,” he said with approval.

“Do you know what else?” asked Lucy.

“Some sort of meat,” he said, spearing a chunky piece. “Pork?”

“No,” said Lucy, nibbling on a frite. “Veal. It’s actually calf’s head.”

Bill dropped his fork. “What?”

“Tête de veau. That’s what the menu said. It means ‘head of calf.’ ”

Bill studied his dish, slowly turning over a few vegetables and choosing a piece of carrot. “Well, I’ll be darned.” His eyes sparkled, and he grinned. “It’s awfully good. Want to try some?”

Lucy’s first inclination was to decline; then she rose to the challenge. “Okay. When in France . . .”

“Open wide,” said Bill, choosing a piece of meat for her.

Lucy obeyed, expecting something horrible, but was pleasantly surprised. “I don’t think I’d choose it,” she said, “but it’s not bad.” She chewed. “It’s actually delicious.”