It was warm and it was quiet. There was scarcely a soul about as they wandered along the winding path that led down to the small lake. In the middle of the lake, the island rose up steeply to the tiny temple far above.

“This way,” said Aunt Éloïse. And she led them around the edge of the lake until they heard the sound of a waterfall. “It’s one of the wonders of the place,” she explained to Hadley. “This was the entrance to an old gypsum quarry, but they turned it into a grotto with an artificial waterfall and stalactites.”

They entered the grotto together. It was empty.

“I’ll just see where the others are,” said Aunt Éloïse, and left them.

The water cascaded down delightfully. The stalactites that hung in huge spikes from the roof of the cave gave it a magical air. Standing together, they looked up the waterfall to a patch of blue sky in the roof, far above. Marie stepped back into the cave, under the festoons of stalactites, and stood watching Hadley as he inspected the area around the waterfall.

She had never been entirely alone with him before. She felt her heart beating, but she kept still. He walked back to her.

She was looking up at him. She was almost trembling, but still she held herself under control, forced herself to be calm.

“It seems my chaperone has deserted me,” she said softly.

He gazed at her, uncertain.

“Obviously,” he said with half a smile, “she trusts me not to behave like Marc.”

She gave a hint of a shrug, and smiled, still looking up at him.

“Why?”

As he looked down at Marie, with her face upturned and her lips slightly parted, Frank Hadley felt a great wave of desire. And perhaps, even then, he might have held back; but the fact that she knew about her brother, and had told him so, had somehow removed the awesome barrier of her innocence. In his mind, she was a woman now. He bent his head down, and kissed her.

And suddenly Marie found herself receiving his kiss, with her head thrown back, and she felt his arm around her waist drawing her up, and her hands reached out, clasping his neck, his body, needing to hold him, and she thought that she would swoon.

Until a voice interrupted, and brought the sky crashing down.

“In the name of God,” cried Gérard, “what are you doing?” And as they sprang apart: “Marie, are you insane?”

Gérard took charge. For once, they all had to do what he said. Not a word, he ordered. Not a word to anyone, not even to Marc.

At least, thank God, Rémy Monnier had no idea what had happened. Not only would it have ruined Marie’s chances with him, but a few words from Monnier and the news would have been all over Paris.