And finally the theme became suspicion. Bouchardon had gotten up from his chair and moved to the window. For a moment he appeared to be watching something below—a passing barge? A tree in the breeze? Wind breaking on water?

Then, rather dramatically—he was French, after all—spinning around to face her again: "Tell me how you felt when you first became aware that you were under suspicion of being a German spy?"

She felt her shoulders rising for another shrug, lips parting to say that she didn't understand. "How I felt?"

"Yes. How did you feel when you first learned that you were suspected of collaborating with the enemy?"

"I suppose I . . ." She shook her head.

"Well, come now. What was it? Anger? Fear? Anxiety? What?"

"Anxiety . . . ?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that."

"I said anxiety."

"About what people would say? Friends and so forth?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"So you were anxious about your social standing. You have just learned that you are suspected of being a spy, and you're anxious about your social standing." He turned back to the window, tapped a nail against the glass. "Be honest with me, madame. Wouldn't you agree that our river is far more beautiful than the Rhine?"

She looked at her hands. Somehow that handkerchief had knotted itself around her fingers like a tourniquet, leaving the joints white. "Please?"

"The river, madame. The Seine. Wouldn't you agree that it's far more beautiful than the Rhine?"

"Yes, oh yes . . ."

"Even at its worst, far more beautiful?"

"Yes."

Then suddenly turning again, voice rising: "Where do you think you are, madame? Just where in the world do you think you are?"

She watched his face blur through tears. "Here."

"That's right. You are here. Now, you say you were worried about your precious reputation when you realized that they thought you were a spy. And is that why you went to see von Kalle in Madrid? In order to save your reputation?"

She had managed to loosen the handkerchief from her fingers ... a small victory. "I had been advised that if I were to secure information on von Kalle it would end all the suspicion against me."

"And who exactly advised you of this? Martial Cazeaux?"

"Yes."

"So the consul in Vigo advised you that if you were to spy successfully on von Kalle, all official doubts concerning your loyalty to France would end. Now is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And you believed this man?"

"I had no reason not to . . ."

"What about your companion, Nicholas Gray? Did you not admit just the other day that he had had doubts about the consul's advice? Indeed, he had even tried to keep you from seeing von Kalle."

"I thought at the time that Nicholas had other reasons for wanting me to stay away from Madrid."

"So you ignored your companion Nicholas Gray, and proceeded to von Kalle on the consul's advice, correct?"

"Yes."