"Where Michel?"Isabelle shrugged a rounded shoulder. "Madame, I don't know. He disappeared when the Allies liberated Marseille."I frowned. "Someone took him prisoner?""No," Isabelle said, shaking her head, "he packed his bags. He said he needed to lie low for a while, until the dust has settled." As if by magic, Isabelle produced a feather duster and waved it in the general direction of my dressing table. "I still call every day, to clean the dust.""Thank you, Isabelle."I paused and gazed at the German perfume bottles, aligned like miniature soldiers on my dressing table. Michel had taken a lover, no surprise there. However, his choice of a German bed mate did add to our complications."Michel fears reprisals," I said, weighing a perfume bottle in my right hand.Isabelle offered a shy nod. "Yes, madame.""He's been collaborating with the enemy?"Our maid bit her lower lip and averted her gaze. "It's not my place to say, madame."I glanced at the lacy underwear and said somewhat tartly, "Well, he sure as hell has been collaborating with someone."

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