There was still a glow of gaslights coming through the windows. No doubt the cleaners were finishing their work. As he watched, he saw the lights starting to go out. He paused.

Why did he pause? There was no reason at all, really. Just idle curiosity, to see the cleaners come out.

A moment later they did. Two women, one old, one younger, though he couldn’t see their faces. The older one crossed the street. The younger turned up it. He continued walking. He came level as she reached a lamp outside a doorway. He glanced at her. And stopped dead in his tracks.

It was the girl from the funeral. It had been so long since their brief encounter that he’d almost put her out of his mind. He’d wondered if he’d even recognize her. Yet now that he saw her, even in the lamplight, he hadn’t the slightest doubt. He’d looked all over Paris for her, and here she was, hardly a mile from where he’d first seen her.

She was a few paces in front of him now. He drew level again. She looked across sharply.

“Have you been following me?”

“No. I was walking up the street when you came out of the lycée.”

“Keep walking, then.”

“In that case, you will be following me,” he said cleverly.

“I don’t think so.”

“I will do as you ask, but first I have to tell you something. We have met before.”

“No we haven’t.”

“You were at the funeral of Victor Hugo.”

She shrugged.

“And …?”

“You were in the front row, on the Champs-Élysées. A soldier made you move.” He paused. She gave no reaction. “Do you remember a man hanging out from the railings of the building behind?”

“No.”

“That was me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” But she was thinking. “I remember a crazy man. He was saying vulgar things to a man below him.”

“That’s right.” He smiled. “That was me.”

“You’re disgusting. Get away from me.”

“I went looking for you.”

“So now you’ve found me. Fuck off.”

“You don’t understand. I went back to the same place in the Champs-Élysées for weeks. Did you ever go there again?”

“No.”

“Then I went from district to district, all over Paris, for over a year, in the hope of finding you. My little brother came with me sometimes. I promise you this is true.”

She stared at him.

“I work on Monsieur Eiffel’s tower,” he continued proudly. “He knows me.”

She continued to stare at him.

“Do you always piss on people’s heads?” she asked.

“Never. I swear.”

She shook her head.

“I think you must be crazy.”

“There is a bar over there.” He pointed up the street. “I was going to eat something. I’ll give you supper. It’s a respectable place. You’ll be quite safe. When you want to leave, I won’t follow you.”

She paused.

“You really looked for me all over Paris, for a year?”