The Other Side of Midnight

"I am sorry, but the General is in conference. He cannot be disturbed."

She hesitated. "Could I call him back later?"

"He will be in conference all day. I suggest you write the General a letter stating your business."

Noelle sat there a moment contemplating the idea and an ironic smile touched her lips.

"Never mind," she said. "Just tell him I called."

One hour later her phone rang, and it was General Hans Scheider. "Forgive me," he apologized. "That idiot didn't give me your message until just now. I would have left word for them to put you through, but it never occurred to me that you would telephone."

"I'm the one who should apologize," Noelle said. "I know how busy you are."

"Please. What can I do for you?"

Noelle hesitated, choosing her words. "Do you remember what you said about us at dinner?"

There was a short pause, then "Yes."

"I've been thinking about you a great deal, Hans. I would like very much to see you."

"Will you have supper with me tonight?" There was a sudden eagerness in his voice.

"Not in Paris," Noelle replied. "If we're going to be together, I would like us to be away from here."

"Where?" General Scheider asked.

"I want it to be some place special. Do you know Etratat?"

"No."

"It's a lovely little village about a hundred and fifty kilometers from Paris, near Le Havre. There's a quiet old inn there."

"It sounds wonderful, Noelle. It's not easy for me to get away right now," he added apologetically. "I am in the middle of--"

"I understand," Noelle interrupted icily, "perhaps some other time."

&

nbsp; "Wait!" There was a long pause. "When could you get away?"

"Saturday night after the show."

"I will make arrangements," he said. "We can fly down--"

"Why don't we drive?" Noelle asked. "It's so pleasant."

"Whatever you like. I'll pick you up at the theater."

Noelle thought quickly. "I have to come home and change first. Pick me up at my apartment, would you?"

"As you wish, my liebchen. Until Saturday night."

Fifteen minutes later Noelle was speaking to the concierge. He listened as she talked, shaking his head in vigorous protest.

"No, no, no! I will tell our friend, Mademoiselle, but he will not do it. He would be a fool to! You might as well ask him to go down and apply for a job at Gestapo headquarters."

"It can't fail," Noelle assured him. "The best brain in France figured it out."