Paris had fallen. It was unthinkable. It was terrifying. The weather continued to show its allegiance to the city’s citizens by offering an equally cold reception to the German troops. The streets appeared bereft with their shops boarded up, a diminished population shuffling along the boulevards, and cafés closed due to food and staff shortages. Rain began to fall more heavily as Matilde Pascale left Lombard’s Auctioneers. For five years she had researched and catalogued collectables there and had never tired of the sweet smell of aged wooden frames or timeworn jewellery. Not that she had any choice now. The auction house had closed for the foreseeable future, yet another victim of the invasion. Turning for one last look, she flicked up the collar of her jacket.
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