They had been discussing the statue of Charlemagne. Jules had been rather pleased with the results of his committee. “We raised all the funds we needed,” he remarked. “I’m sorry that the Vicomte de Cygne didn’t live to see it, because he’d have been pleased. We even got an excellent contribution from that lawyer, Ney, whose daughter you painted.”

“Talking of sculpture,” remarked his wife, “I hear there’s a scandal about Rodin the sculptor in the newspapers. Is this right?”

“Rodin’s Kiss and his Thinker have even become quite famous in America, you know,” Hadley remarked. “I didn’t know there was a scandal, though.”

“It’s not exactly a scandal,” said Marc. “Nearly ten years ago, he was commissioned by the author’s society to do a big statue of Balzac. As most people think he’s our greatest novelist, something monumental was called for. And Rodin’s been at it ever since. He’s had to ask for fifty extensions to complete the work. And now they’ve seen it, they’ve rejected it.”

“Why?” asked Marie.

“I heard it was a monstrosity,” said Gérard.

“Ah non, Gérard,” said Aunt Éloïse.

Marc laughed.

“Actually, he’s right. It is a monstrosity. But a magnificent one. Faced with such a heroic task, Rodin attempted to depict the soul of the writer, rather than the literal man. The result is a shape like a tree trunk wrapped in a cloak, with this great head, with a neck like a bull, bursting out of it. They were all horrified. So Rodin’s taken the plaster model back to his studio. Perhaps it will never be cast.” He smiled. “Personally, I’d have preferred it if they’d put it in Père Lachaise instead of that rather boring head that sits over his grave at present.” He turned to Hadley. “You remember the one I mean?”

“Do you know,” said Hadley, “I’ve never been to the cemetery of Père Lachaise.”

“You haven’t?” Aunt Éloïse was astounded. “My dear Hadley, you must go there.”

“You should,” agreed Jules. “Certainly worth a visit.”

“I propose,” said Aunt Éloïse, seeing a beautiful chance, “to take you there myself. Marc and Marie, you must come too. I insist. We shall go this very week, while the weather is still so mild.” She looked at them all.

“Why not?” said Marc.

And Aunt Éloïse was feeling quite pleased with her cleverness when Gérard intervened.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. We should love to come too.”

“We should?” said his wife, looking puzzled and not especially pleased.

“My dear Gérard,” said Aunt Éloïse, “I think you might be rather bored.”

“Not at all,” said Gérard. “We’re coming.”

It seemed to Hadley that Marc was looking a little pale when he came by to collect him.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Hortense,” said Marc.

“You spoke?”