She snapped a biscuit in two but didn't eat it. "Comforting?"

"Away from the war."

She smiled, meeting his eyes. "But I wasn't involved in the war, Herr Cramer."

"No, of course not ..."

There were heavy footsteps from the room above, then the rhythmic thud of a hammer. She shook her head. "I'm afraid that has become my war now, that and the plumbing."

He glanced at the bare whitewashed walls, the bay windows and the angular staircase. "Still, it's a lovely old house. Do you plan to stay long?"

She shrugged. "I suppose it all depends on you."

"Me?"

"Well, it's you and your people that are making this war . . . and consequently spoiling my career."

"But that's unfair, madame. We are not the only ones responsible. There's England, too, you know."

She looked suddenly serious. "Your people took my luggage, which I would very much liked returned."

He put his teacup down. "Ah, so now we get to the heart of the matter. I came here today anticipating a pleasant discussion about Paris, while you were intending to file a complaint."

"The luggage was confiscated last August by agents of your government. Repeated letters have produced nothing."

He smiled. "I'm afraid this is not exactly my province."

"Then I suggest you make it your province, because my furs alone are worth at least fifty thousand francs. And there was jewelry."

Cramer's hands were long and slender, the nails immaculate. "I will see what I can do," he said. "The war does tend to complicate such matters—"

"Well, you know, the French would have never allowed anything like this to happen."

"Ah, but the French know how to treat a beautiful lady. I doubt, however, that they are treating the British officers with outstanding kindness."

"The British that I saw were treated very well."

"Even by their colleagues in the French military?" He realized he was being unsubtle, but he had limited time and if there was any future in the woman he needed to know as quickly as possible.

She began toying with crumbs on the tablecloth, wedging them into tiny fortifications. "I think there is something you don't understand, Herr Cramer. I went to Paris for six weeks to collect my possessions. Naturally I met a few people, old friends, maybe a new friend. But mainly I went to collect my things."

"But surely you must have observed something of the local situation, something, for example, of the morale."

She smiled again. "Actually I was really much too concerned about my luggage to observe much of anything. I am, you see, a practical person. Possessions are important to me ... of course there are bad feelings. War brings out bad feelings, doesn't it?"

"Even among the Allies?"

She nodded, watching for those children on the white path. "I suppose so."

"And the civilians, how are they holding up?"