"I don't know," Flip said. "It seems to me you would." Paul knocked all the logs out of place with the poker and had to take the tongs to put them back. "He's so hideous, Flip. Like a snake. Or a rat. And Flip. If I were really his son and he'd spent all that time looking for me, it would be because he loved me, wouldn't it? And I didn't feel that he loved me at all. If only he'd had that picture with him. If only I could get it without going to the chateau to meet him tonight." They sat looking into the fire. A log broke in half and fell, sending up a shower of sparks, and suddenly Flip thought of something that made a prickly feeling begin at the base of her spine and go all the way up her back. At last she said, "I know how you can get the picture without having to go to the chateau." "How?" Paul asked eagerly. "I'll go." "Don't be a little idiot," Paul said. "As if I'd let you. Anyhow he wouldn't give it to you." "I could pretend I was you." "I wouldn't let you." "I could wear your ski clothes." "They wouldn't fit you." "They'd fit well enough," Flip said. "I'm not so much shorter than you. And I could put my hair under your cap and in the dark he wouldn't be able to tell the difference." Paul put his head down on his knees. "I won't let you do that." "If you go," Flip said, "I'm afraid he'll never let you come back. He doesn't want me." "Wouldn't you be afraid to go?" "Yes," Flip admitted. "I would be. But I'd be more afraid to have you go than I would be to go myself." "No," Paul said firmly. "It's wonderful of you to think of it. But it is impossible." And Flip knew there was no use arguing with him. Thérèse came in and stood arms akimbo in the doorway, announcing, "lunch is on the table and it's good onion soup so come and eat it while it's hot." "I'm not hungry," Paul whispered. "I'm not either," Flip whispered back. "But we've got to pretend we are. Does Ariel like onion soup?" "Ariel likes anything." "Well, that's all right, then," Flip said. 7 A wind came up during the afternoon and by dinner time it was howling about the gate house. Flip had thought up a scheme in which in spite of Paul's opposition, she would be the one to make the trip to the chateau. But it was so daring, so dangerous, that whenever she thought of it she began to shiver. Her shivers started somewhere deep inside of her, the way she thought a tidal wave must start deep inside of the ocean, and then it seemed to break over her like a wave. Gloria said that when you shivered like that when you weren't cold it meant that somebody was walking over the place your grave was going to be. They sat by the fire, Flip and Paul, huddled there all afternoon, scarcely saying a word, listening to the wind rise. Fortunately Georges Laurens was absorbed in his work and their silence did not penetrate his concentration any more than their conversation would have. "If he'd just leave the picture for me," Paul said.