Rebecca laughed. She liked Biro.

He bent his head and kissed her.

She was only half surprised. She had sensed that he was attracted to her. What surprised her was how excited she felt to be kissed. She kissed him back eagerly.

Then she drew back. She put her hands on his chest and pushed him away a little. She studied him in the lamplight. No man of fifty looked like Adonis, but Frederik had a face that suggested intelligence and compassion and the ability to smile wryly at life's ironies. He had gray hair cut short and blue eyes. He was wearing a dark-blue coat and a bright red scarf, conservatism with a touch of gaiety.

She said: "Why did you get divorced?"

"I had an affair, and my wife left me. Feel free to condemn me."

"No," she said. "I've made mistakes."

"I regretted it, when it was too late."

"Children?"

"Two, grown up. They have forgiven me. Marta has remarried, but I'm still single. What's your story?"

"I divorced my first husband when I discovered he worked for the Stasi. My second husband was injured escaping over the Berlin Wall. He was in a wheelchair, but we were happy together for twenty years. He died a year ago."

"My word, you're about due for some good luck."

"Perhaps I am. Would you walk me to the hotel entrance, please?"

They crossed the road. On the corner of the block, where the streetlights were less glaring, she kissed him again. She enjoyed it even more this time, and pressed her body against his.

"Spend the night with me," he said.

She was sorely tempted. "No," she said. "It's too soon. I hardly know you."

"But you're going home tomorrow."

"I know."

"We may never meet again."

"I'm sure we will."

"We could go to my apartment. Or I'll come to your room."

"No, though I'm flattered by your persistence. Good night."

"Good night, then."

She turned away.

He said: "I travel often to Bonn. I'll be there in ten days' time."

She turned back, smiling.

He said: "Will you have dinner with me?"

"I'd love to," she said. "Call me."

"Okay."

She walked into the hotel lobby, smiling.