Washington ? A few weeks ago in Paris I turned in a companion of 40 years’ standing for a handful of new euro bills and coins. It was hard saying goodbye amid the marble and expanse of the lobby of France’s central bank. But I could no longer delay saying adieu to the franc.

For all their differences, French and Americans usually agree on a few big things. One has been the importance of a national currency as barometer and catalyst of a nation’s health. Americans are absolutely Gaullist when it comes to honoring the monetary and symbolic value of the dollar. The greenback is a powerful ambassador and talisman.

When I first arrived in France as a student in 1961, Charles de Gaulle had recently willed a magnificently flamboyant and assertive new currency into existence and sparked one more national uproar. On my most recent visit I found the franc gone gently into that dark night, provoking not a whimper from the populace. Somewhere in the European experiment, money had become, well, just money for the French.

De Gaulle came to power to end France’s colonial era and the chronic instability of the Fourth Republic. The country’s exhaustion was symbolized by its inflated currency and grubby old aluminum coins. It took 500 francs to buy a dollar’s worth of goods. De Gaulle lopped off the two zeros, proclaimed a hard “new franc” and ordered up notes and coins that reflected his view of French history and glory.

Opponents of this nation-building refused at first to speak in “new francs.” Psychological resistance to de Gaulle’s high-handedness added to the confusion and stress of a monetary makeover undertaken as the country moved to the brink of civil war over Algeria.

France righted itself and embarked on a long period of prosperity underwritten by the European Common Market. Dashing monetary portraits of Napoleon entering battle gave way to brilliantly shaded bank notes honoring French writers, painters, scientists and other intellectuals. De Gaulle’s heirs made money, not war or history.

All that changed outwardly on Jan. 1 this year, when France, Germany, Italy, Spain and eight smaller members of the European Union adopted the technocratically engineered euro as a single currency. The franc, mark, lira and peseta were withdrawn from circulation. You now go to the Bank of France to exchange leftover francs for what Americans would call real spending money.

Technically my exchange went smoothly. Sentimentally, I found it difficult. Forking over Paul Cezanne and Antoine de Saint-Exupery for a deliberately anonymous collection of generic bridges and buildings chosen not to offend was dispiriting. I expected existential angoisse or nostalgie to be the mood of the moment in Paris.

Instead I discovered that today’s American (of a certain age) in Paris feels more sentiment about the demise of the franc than the French seem to feel. I could get no rise out of the bartenders, diplomats, bank tellers, shopkeepers and writers I interrogated on the subject. They wanted to talk about Enron, or Iraq, or the “Spider-Man” movie. Reflections on the withering of nationalism in Europe were not forthcoming.

Are they so deep in the forest of nation-renouncing that they cannot see it? Perhaps. Nationalism fed Europe’s destruction throughout the 20th century. It would be de Gaulle’s ultimate victory if he has made the French sufficiently secure in their nationalism for them to subordinate it.

The euro is, after all, a French invention. De Gaulle’s lifelong antagonist and rival for power, Francois Mitterrand, talked Germany’s Helmut Kohl into submerging the all-conquering mark into a broader currency in return for French support for German reunification in 1991.

The decadelong preparation for last January’s physical conversion, and the immediate convenience a single currency offers travelers and business, also explain its ready acceptance. My nostalgia quotient dipped significantly as I headed for the airport and a flight to Berlin, where I would not be standing in line losing money and time turning francs into marks.

In Berlin, Joschka Fischer, Germany’s effervescent foreign minister, surprised me by spontaneously bringing up the euro. “There is a silent revolution going on in Europe,” he said, pulling a 50-euro note from his wallet, “and here is its flag.” This summer will be decisive in the euro’s acceptance as vacationing Europeans travel across borders, he added. I meekly agreed that American travelers would also be happy with that experience.

Sorry Paul. Still love the paintings. A thousand regrets, Antoine. Still love “The Little Prince.” But now even in France time is money.