By his hesitation and the manner in which his shoulders rose toward his ears, Jane knew that he was going to say that he did not require any assistance, but not out of deference to her health. ‘Perhaps another day.’

Before Jane could assert her health further, Anne-Marie arrived with a smile on her face. They were, by this point, conversing entirely in French, which did give Jane some measure of satisfaction. ‘Madame! Monsieur! You must quit these confines and allow me to take you on an excursion.’

‘An excursion?’

‘Today is the annual Gilles parade. The entire town will be there. It should be great fun.’

‘I am afraid my time is committed already, but Jane, you should go.’ Vincent kissed her hand with such tenderness that she could not resent him. ‘The air will do you good.’

Jane squeezed his hand in return. ‘Very well. But tomorrow, we return to the glass factory.’

‘If you are well.’

‘I am quite, quite well,’ Jane said, with more heat than she intended. ‘Thank you.’

Anne-Marie cleared her throat. ‘Mme Chastain has already left with the children, but if we hurry, we may catch them.’

Reluctantly agreeing, Jane followed Anne-Marie into the streets of Binché. The normally quiet village was filled with people walking toward the centre of town. Banners hung from windows in brilliant reds and yellows, with occasional tricolours marking a supporter of the Bonapartes.

As they neared the centre of town, Jane began to hear music of a jolly bouncing sort. They rounded a corner and the cross street at the end was lined with people, all staring to their right. Anne-Marie caught hold of Jane’s hand and pulled her through the crowd to the front row.

Marching toward them came row upon row of men dressed in nearly identical costumes, bright yellow shirts and pantaloons, striped with red and green. Each man had an enormous collar of lace, and a padded hump and belly. They all wore wax masks with spectacles and curling moustaches.

Most remarkable though, were the dragons that hung in the air above them. The dragons themselves were simple folk constructions, rendered with broad strokes of glamour. What astonished Jane was that the dragons travelled with the parade of men.

She let her vision dissolve into the ether, focusing first on the Gilles, in an attempt to understand how they were managing the folds while marching. Upon examination, she traced the threads governing the dragons to the women who lined the street. They passed the folds one to the next, so that no woman had to maintain the folds for more than a minute or so. But letting her attention expand into the ether made Jane queasy, so she dropped her focus back to the physical plane, glad that Vincent was not there to witness her discomfort.

‘What are Gilles?’ She leaned over to Anne-Marie and had to fairly shout in her ear to be heard.