“You could call it that.”

“You broke up with her?”

“I did.”

Hadley gazed thoughtfully at his friend.

“I guess you know what you want,” he said.

“She wasn’t too pleased.”

“I don’t suppose she was.”

“She called me a lot of names.” Marc sighed, then shrugged. “However, I’m used to that.”

“I’d imagine you are.”

“Let’s go to Père Lachaise,” said Marc.

It was such a perfect afternoon. The weather was still pleasantly warm. The leaves were on the trees. But there were hints of gold in some of them, and now and then, as a light gust of wind made them tremble, a few leaves floated down to the ground.

The two men, Aunt Éloïse and Marie shared the Blanchard carriage. Gérard and his wife were meeting them at the cemetery.

But it wasn’t Gérard and his wife they found waiting for them.

“She couldn’t come,” Gérard explained. “The children needed her. So I have brought a friend of mine instead. May I present Rémy Monnier.”

He was a well-dressed man of about thirty. Medium height. Alert hazel eyes. Hair cropped very short, rapidly balding. But there was a brisk, almost dynamic energy about him that was quite impressive. He seemed like a man who shaved close and knew all the markets.

He bowed in a friendly way to them all, and immediately paid his addresses to Aunt Éloïse, as good manners demanded.

Meanwhile, Gérard was murmuring to Marie.

“Rémy is a very good man. The family’s rich, but he has several brothers. So he’s determined to make a fortune of his own. And he will. He’s in banking, has a huge talent for finance. And he’s not Jewish.” He nodded. “I think you’ll like him.”

Marie said nothing.

“Oh,” Gérard continued, “and he knows his wines. Collects pictures, too. Old Masters mostly. Loves the opera. Very cultivated. God knows what he’s read.”

“Poetry?” she asked, not that she cared.

“Probably. All sorts of stuff.”

Marie gazed at the banker. Not that she knew about such things, but she imagined that Rémy Monnier was also an accomplished lover. He would have seen to that.

It was pleasant enough visiting the famous cemetery. They showed Hadley the monument to Abelard and Héloïse. They found the grave of Chopin, and of Balzac, with its impressive if rather conventional bust. They saw graves of Napoléon’s marshals and they went to the Mur des Fédérés, where Aunt Éloïse explained the tragedy of the last days of the Commune to Hadley.

The banker came and made himself agreeable to her as they walked along. He asked her about how she had passed her summer, spoke interestingly about the château of Fontainebleau, which he knew well. They talked about the grape harvest.