Free Missing Person by Patrick Modiano, Daniel Weissbort

said.
    "And Denise?" she asked impatiently. "What happened to her?"
    "Well," I said, "I haven't seen her for a long while ..."
    "Oh..."
    She looked disappointed and shook her head as though realizing she should not say anything further about this "Denise."
    "Actually," I said, "you knew Denise a long time, didn't you?..."
    "Yes ... I knew her through Léon ..."
    "Léon?"
    "Léon Van Allen."
    "Of course," I said, responding to her tone of voice which was almost reproachful when the name "Léon" had not instantly evoked "Léon Van Allen" for me.
    "What's he doing, Léon Van Allen?" I asked.
    "Oh ... I've not had any news of him for two or three years ... He'd gone to Dutch Guyana, Paramaribo ... He started a dancing school there ..."
    "Dancing?"
    "Yes. Before he was a couturier, Léon danced ... Didn't you know that?"
    "Yes, I did. But I had forgotten."
    She threw herself back, leaning against the wall, and retied the belt of her dressing-gown.
    "And what about you? What have you been doing?"
    "Oh, me?... Nothing ..."
    "You no longer work at the Dominican Embassy?"
    "No."
    "Do you remember when you offered to get me a Dominican passport?... You used to say that one had to be ready in life and always have several passports, as a precaution..."
    This memory amused her. She gave a short laugh.
    "When did you last have any news of... Denise?" I asked her.
    "You'd left for Megève with her and she dropped me a line from there. Since then, nothing."
    She stared at me questioningly, but no doubt did not dare ask me directly. Who was this Denise? Had she played an important part in my life?
    "You see," I said, "there are times when I feel as though I'm in a complete fog ... There are gaps in my memory... Periods of depression ... So, since I was passing, I thought I'd come up ... to try to find the ... the ..."
    I was looking for the right word in vain, but it did not matter at all, since she smiled and this smile showed that my approach was no surprise to her.
    "You mean: to try to find the good times again."
    "Yes. That's it... The good times ..."
    She picked up a gilt box on a small low table at the end of the sofa and opened it. It was filled with cigarettes.
    "No thanks," I said.
    "You don't smoke any more? They're English cigarettes. I remember you used to smoke English cigarettes... Whenever the three of us met here, you, me and Denise, you used to bring me a bag full of packs of English cigarettes ..."
    "Yes, that's right..."
    "You could get as many as you wanted at the Dominican Legation..."
    I stretched my hand out to the gilt box and picked up a cigarette between thumb and forefinger. I put it apprehensively in my mouth. She handed me her lighter after having lit her own cigarette. I had to try several times before I managed to get a flame. I inhaled. At once, a very painful, smarting sensation made me cough.
    "I've lost the habit of it," I said.
    I did not know how to get rid of this cigarette and continued to hold it between thumb and forefinger while it burnt itself out.
    "So," I said, "you live in this apartment now?"
    "Yes. I moved in again when I had no more news of Denise... Anyway, she'd told me before she left, that I could take the apartment back..."
    "Before she left?"
    "Naturally... Before you left for Megève ..."
    She shrugged her shoulders, as though this must be obvious to me.
    "I have the feeling I was only in this apartment a short time..."
    "You stayed here several months with Denise ..
    "And you lived here before us?"
    She looked at me in amazement.
    "Of course I did, you know that... It was my apartment ... I lent it to Denise because I had to leave Paris ..."
    "Forgive me ... My mind was on something else."
    "It suited Denise here ... She had room for her dressmaking ..."
    A dressmaker?
    "I wonder why we left this apartment," I said.
    "Me too ..."
    Again the questioning look. But what could I say in explanation? I knew less than she did. I knew nothing about all this. I finally put my cigarette butt,