“That’s very risky behavior,” said Lucy, remembering how the old guy had looked Sylvie over. Was it that simple? Was a look enough to initiate an assignation? Did Sylvie really just go off with anyone? She found the idea disturbing. “She could be putting you in danger, you know, bringing strange men into your apartment.”

“I know, Mom, and I’ve asked her not to do it, but she just tells me it is none of my beez-nees,” said Elizabeth, mimicking Sylvie’s accent.

“Well, what do we do now?” asked Sue.

“Back to the marché?” suggested Pam.

“I’ve spent all my money,” Lucy reminded her.

“I can’t afford anything I want,” said Sue.

“My feet hurt,” complained Rachel.

“Then I guess we’re done here,” said Elizabeth, signaling for the check. “I’m going to go home and hang up my poster, and then I’m going to spend the afternoon washing my clothes at the laverie automatique.”

“You’ll get no sympathy from us,” said Lucy, earning a few chuckles. “Between the four of us, we must have washed thousands, maybe millions, of loads of wash.”

When the footsore group straggled back to the apartment, they found Bill and Sid in the courtyard, cutting up wood, constructing a closet for Madame Defarge.

“A real American-style closet,” she announced, beaming. “All my friends will be very jealous.”

“It’s not a big deal,” said Bill. “We’re repurposing this door she had.”

“And we found some plywood in the shed. When it’s painted, it will blend in with the walls,” added Sid. “We’re not going to have to mess with Sheetrock at all.”

“Sounds good,” said Lucy, who suspected that constructing the closet was a peace offering to Madame Defarge, who had made it quite clear that she wasn’t thrilled about the group’s involvement with the police. Or maybe the two contractors simply couldn’t resist an opportunity to saw wood and bang nails and show off their abilities. “How long is it going to take?”

“The rest of the afternoon probably,” said Bill, releasing his tape measure, which rewound with a snap.

“We didn’t expect you back so soon,” said Sid. “Where are the packages?”

“I had them sent,” teased Sue. “I bought a dining table and a set of Louis XV chairs. Only fifty thousand . . .”

Sid clutched his heart. “You didn’t!”

“No, I didn’t,” admitted Sue as the doorbell sounded, and Madame Defarge went to answer it. She returned with a couple of uniformed policemen, one of whom was carrying a very official-looking warrant.

“Is Monsieur Goodman here?” asked the first cop, a very good-looking young man with dark hair.

“No,” answered Sid. “He went out with Ted. Didn’t say where they were going.”

“I’m his wife,” said Rachel, determined to be helpful and cooperative.