He seemed perfectly at home here, but something about him made her think he was not a native. He had gone native but France was not where he was born,...she was fairly certain."And here we are, Rue de Cerisoles, as promised. Your shop should be on the other side of the street. I will be in that cafe," he pointed to one a little farther down on the Champs Elysées, "in about an hour, I have to go and take care of a couple of things while I am on this side of town. Here is the number to my cell.. "We don't have a key or a combination," said HL. "I think we should call Mr Potter." Good idea," I said. And did so.Mr Potter told me that as far as he knew it was in the library, because Lady Anne, we had now discovered that it was short for Angelica, had told him so. No, he didn't have a key or a combination. Odd.We sat there. I rang for Mrs Johnson. No, she had no idea, in fact she said, she didn't even know there was a safe. Strange.But she would bring us some tea. Not strange, just. More

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