‘It gets you out of the freezing house where you are bored to death. And what’s more, you’re coming to admire your nephew, who will finally be speaking in public . . . Well, I was asked to fill in because the clubs are losing all their speakers because of the cold, but it’s a start.’

‘Have you not had enough of this stupidity? Do you know what they remind me of, these Communards of yours? They’re like animals who resist civilisation and who are just waiting for the right moment to come and knock down my door, steal my silver, piss in my sheets and burn down the building. They’re envious, those people, I find them appalling.’

Auguste heaved a sigh.

‘Still, the Commune stands for a little more than that, doesn’t it? Civic equality between men and women, equality before the law for children born in or out of wedlock, secular, compulsory schooling that is free for all, including for little girls, the establishment of crèches so women are able to go to work . . . Really, Aunt, you declare yourself a feminist . . . does that not mean anything to you?’

‘Contrary to what you might believe, I am not rooted in the past like your father. But you are young and you think you’ve invented everything when in fact the Commune is an old idea from 1848 and the same people are still running the show. Nobody has forgotten the progressive tax on private income and inheritance! All they need do now is add in the profits from our new public companies and the picture will be complete.’

‘Well, the schools have to be financed somehow, don’t they?’

‘Indeed, but not with my money! I’m barely managing to keep my head above water as it is.’

‘Money must flow freely in the veins of our society. And you, dear Aunt, are creating a clot!’

They both knew that to pursue the discussion further would only lead to argument. But that evening neither of them had the courage for it given their lack of sleep, the temperature that had plummeted to minus twelve degrees and the lack of food, so they fell silent.

Having come to the end of Boulevard Saint-Martin, they emerged onto the vast Place du Château-d’Eau, where a solitary gaslight flickered feebly, a spot of light amid the shadows. It was hard to believe that just four months earlier, that same square was being criss-crossed by carriages filled with people hurrying off in search of entertainment. They stood in respectful silence, much as you would at the bedside of a dying man; they felt profoundly angry at what the Prussians had done to their cherished city.

‘Where are you with your collection for the cannons?’ asked Auguste, gazing into the endless, black void.