Then came the highlight of the feast, the Christmas cake. Not the heavy fruitcake that the English favored, but the light sponge covered in thick, chocolate butter cream, and rolled into a cylinder. Here Monsieur Ney had outdone himself. He had gone to one of the best patisseries in Paris, and bought a cake that stretched halfway down the long table. The Genoise sponge was golden, the thick spiral of filling in each slice was of chocolate flavored with chestnut. The outside was dusted with powdered sugar.

“The patissier has invented a charming name for the cake,” Monsieur Ney told them. “He calls it a Yule log—bûche de Noël.”

By the end of the meal, everyone was satisfied. Ney, like a monarch who knows that his people will be obedient if they are entertained from time to time, was surveying the room with a look of calm benevolence on his narrow face. The old folk, sleepy and contented, were taken back to their rooms, with Thomas helping, while the table was cleared.

Édith and Margot the nurse appeared, having completed the feeding of the other residents in their rooms. Two places had been set for them at the empty table, and their food, kept warm in the kitchen, was set out under covers. Monsieur Ney thanked them both for their efforts, and left them with a bottle of wine before departing to his own house. Aunt Adeline retired to her quarters with Édith’s mother, who was already half asleep. And Thomas joined Édith and old Margot at the table.

Margot ate stolidly and in silence. Édith poured wine for herself, and for Thomas.

“I’ve drunk too much already,” he said.

“Keep me company.” She smiled.

He watched her. She had grown her hair out in the last few weeks. Instead of being frizzed, it was fuller now, with soft curls just above her shoulders and a part near the middle. Her face was perhaps a little fuller too.

More than ever, he found her desirable. It hadn’t been appropriate to bring his capotes anglaises to Monsieur Ney’s Christmas feast, but he hoped that before too long he might get the chance to use them.

Did she have the same feelings for him? He thought she did. After all, she went out with him, and let him kiss her, and asked him to the Christmas feast. But she was still cautious about letting her feelings show. She held back.

When Margot had finished eating, she waddled off to the kitchen, leaving them to sit and talk. They finished the bottle of wine. Édith added a little water to her wine, so he was actually drinking more, and on top of what he’d already had, he felt pleasantly flushed. She put her hand on his arm.

“You’ll have to go soon,” she said. “I’ll have work to do at the end of the afternoon, and I need a little rest.”

“That’s all right.”