"I can't leave that picture lying around, Alain. It's all I've had of my son for a long time. But I'll bring it to the chateau tonight after dinner, at eight o'clock, and you can look at it and see if it helps you to remember."
"Very well. I'll be there," Paul said.
The man moved towards him as though to kiss him, but as Paul drew back in repulsion the man dropped his arms to his side and stood there looking at him. "I suppose it is too much to ask that you should know me all at once; but when we have lived together for a little while I am sure things will be different."
"Bring me the picture," Paul cried in a choking voice.
"Very well, Alain," the man said. "I will leave you now but I will see you at the chateau this evening." And he turned and started up the mountain and in a moment disappeared in a clump of trees.
When he was out of sight Paul bent down and fastened on his skis. His lips were pale and tightly closed and he did not say a word. Flip put on her skis and silently followed him down the mountain.
When they got to the gate house Paul said, "Don't tell my father."
"What are you going to do, Paul?"
"I don't know. But I know I can't tell my father."
"Why not?"