I slipped into one of the antique galleries: de Pouilly’s. Over the years I’d made friends with the owners of many of these stores. They knew me as selective and willing to pay well for what I wanted. In return, I expected them to keep quiet about my visits and to let me . . . wander ... in their shops. The whole Quarter was rabbit-warrened. You might enter an unpretentious storefront, only to discover a maze of rooms that led you through any number of connected buildings. I doubt there was anyone who knew all the twists and turns in these places.