On the evening before, Thomas went up to Montmartre to see his family. He ate with his parents and sister. Luc was working, and Thomas decided to stay the night up at the house so that he could see his brother. It was after midnight when Luc arrived, and as it was warm, the two brothers sat out on the wall nearby under the stars to chat awhile.

“I went to the tower this afternoon,” Luc informed him. “It’s only been open two days, and you still can’t use the elevators, but I wanted to go and see.” He smiled. “Most people only walk up to the first platform, but I went on to the second. It’s still not open above that. And guess who I met there?”

“Tell me.”

“The man himself. Monsieur Eiffel. He was walking up to his office at the top. He’s certainly fit. He told me he does it every day.”

“You spoke to him?” After his disgrace, Thomas was a little nervous of what the great man might have had to say.

“Certainly. He recognized me. He said I could walk up to the top with him if I liked. So of course I did.”

“I see.”

“And I saw the plaque with all the workers’ names on it.”

“Ah.” Thomas sighed. “I didn’t tell you yet. But unfortunately …,” he began.

“I saw your name.”

Thomas started. His name? Could there have been another Gascon working on the tower he didn’t know about?

“My name? You are sure?”

“It was Monsieur Eiffel who pointed it out to me. ‘There’s your brother’s name,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget to tell him you saw it.’ ”

“Oh,” said Thomas.

“So I went up to the top and he went up into his office and I walked around the viewing platform. Quite a view. It must be like that when you’re up in a balloon.”

“What did you do then?”

“I came down, of course. What else?”

“Nothing.”

“Il est gentil, your Monsieur Eiffel. He’s nice.”

“Yes,” said Thomas. “He is.”

Édith wasn’t sure. Aunt Adeline was.

“This is the time to end it. You made a mistake, but now that is over. You’re not pregnant anymore. You’re free. He’s a nice boy, but he seems to have a talent for getting in trouble, and he hasn’t a sou.”

Even Édith’s mother did her best to give her good advice.

“You know that butcher up at the top of the rue de la Pompe? Well, his son has his eye on you. And that junior master at the lycée, the one with the little beard, I see him looking at you when he leaves the building. You should encourage him, you know.”

“A schoolmaster’s never going to marry me.”

“You never know. I could talk to him.”

“That may not help.”

She was determined to decide for herself, but she couldn’t deny that her aunt was right. Thomas might be as much as she could hope for, but he was no safe haven.