“I love those,” said Sue, pointing out a pair of bird sconces, “but not for four thousand euros.”

“And not a wine-bottle rack in sight,” said Pam.

“Let’s try upstairs,” urged Rachel. “I have a thing for Bakelite bangles.”

Even the Bakelite bangles were too expensive for Rachel, who declared she could get the same at home for less, but Lucy fell hard for a pair of 1950s educational posters picturing the city and the country in bright primary colors. “I could have the country in my kitchen and give you the city for your apartment,” she told Elizabeth. “How much?” she asked the vendor. “Combien pour les deux?”

“Deux cent cinquante,” replied the seller, a well-padded woman who was the exception proving the rule that Frenchwomen don’t get fat, and who was dressed against the chill in several sweaters and a pair of fingerless gloves.

“Two fifty? Too much,” said Lucy as Sylvie stepped up. “Cent cinquante, c’est juste,” she said in an authoritative voice.

“Non, c’est trop peu,” said the vendor with a dismissive shrug. “Deux cents.”

Then Lucy lost track of the negotiation until Sylvie seemed satisfied. “One seventy-five. Is that okay?”

Lucy thought it was too much, well over two hundred dollars, but then again, she might never get back to Paris. “Okay,” she agreed, emptying her wallet and producing a handful of bills.

The vendor carefully counted them, coming up ten euros short.

“Oh, gee, that’s all I’ve got,” said Lucy. “Will you take a credit card? Carte de crédit?”

The woman recoiled, looking as if Lucy was proposing to pay with a handful of wriggling pythons.

“Oh, let me,” said Elizabeth, digging into her pocket and producing a fistful of change. “I’d like to get rid of these, anyway, since they’re so heavy,” she said, counting out five golden coins.

The woman examined them closely and returned one to her, shaking her head.

Elizabeth took it back and tucked it in her jeans pocket. “Oh, sorry. That’s my good luck piece,” she said, producing another two-euro coin, which the woman accepted.

Then she rolled up the posters, wrapped them carefully in brown paper, and handed them to Lucy with a flourish, as if they were da Vinci originals.

“That could have been a tragedy if she’d taken my good luck piece,” said Elizabeth as Lucy presented her with the city poster. “Thanks, Mom.”

“I didn’t know you were superstitious,” said Lucy.

“I know it’s silly, but I found it in the apartment when a loose tile fell in the bathroom, and since then my luck really has changed. Now, how about some lunch?”

“Somebody has to pay for me,” said Lucy hungrily. “I don’t have a sou.”

“Not to worry,” said Rachel. “We’ve got you covered.”