After a long silence, I finally asked her: ‘Didn’t you ever try to find out what had happened to him?’

‘No. And I never saw him again. Although … there was one time when I almost saw him.’

‘When was that?’

‘I don’t remember exactly. The girls must have been ten or twelve. I received a note at my atelier. I was working for Chanel. I’m not sure how he managed to find me there. I’d changed my surname …’

‘He knew that you worked in fashion. Maybe he called up all the fashion houses, asking for Madeleine.’

‘But we were all called Madeleine back then!’

‘Well, anyway, he looked for you and he found you. So what happened?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Tell me more.’

‘He wrote me a note because he was in Paris, saying he’d be happy to see me again. That was all, just a few lines, with the name of his hotel. After so many years of silence. I suppose I might have been thrilled, but I wasn’t. In fact, I was angry with him for suddenly reappearing like that. I had my own life by then: my job, my daughters. I’d got back on my feet. It wasn’t nice of him to do that. I decided I wouldn’t go. And I held firm, but …’

‘You went anyway?’

‘Yes. The desire was too strong. Besides, I needed to know why he’d left me the way he did. Not understanding had driven me crazy. So I went to his hotel …’

‘And?’

‘Nothing. He’d left that morning. And that was that. Fate hadn’t wanted us to meet again. It left me feeling helpless and confused again. I was obsessed by the idea of this meeting that almost happened.’

‘That’s terrible. He hadn’t left you a note, an address where you could reach him?’

‘No. Since I hadn’t gone to see him, I imagine he thought it better not to leave any trace behind.’

‘And that was all?’

‘Yes.’

‘You never tried to find him again?’

‘How?’

‘I don’t know. You could have looked for him on the internet. Facebook, for example … What’s his surname?’

‘Grimbert.’

‘Would you like me to try?’

‘Try what?’

‘To find him.’

‘…’

Madeleine made a movement with her head that I took for a nod of assent. I opened Facebook on my phone. I found a few Yves Grimberts, but only one appeared to be the same age as Madeleine. The investigation could hardly have been any faster. Modern technology must have put so many private detectives out of a job. The age of stake-outs is over. The man’s profile said that he lived in Los Angeles. I asked Madeleine if she wanted to see his photograph, and she nodded again. Without any sign of emotion, she said: ‘That’s him.’ She must have been in shock. She continued to stare at her first love before finally adding: ‘He hasn’t changed.’ I would never have dared use that line in a novel. I thought it was beautiful that she could say that about this man, almost sixty years after the last time she’d seen him. The power of a feeling is capable of stopping time.