you?' then she embraced me; but seeing my blushes and perceiving that I was trembling all over, no doubt she dared not push matters further, as she said: 'Come, try that on yourself,' I tried the drawers on. They were too large and too long for me. That gave her a pretext for passing her hands up my thighs in order to pull them up. For a moment her hand remained motionless, or I should say rather that it moved up and down gently so that it seemed as if it were trembling.
“Finally, when she had well kissed me, caressed me, and felt me all over, 'Oh!' she said, 'I think they will fit beautifully. In fact I am sure.'
“Then she dressed me herself, caressing me the while as (before. At last, just before I left, she whispered in my ear:
“'Do not forget that next Sunday you will spend all day with me, that we will take a bath together, and that we dine and go to the theatre together. Mind you, dress yourself prettily. I shall call for you in the afternoon about two o'clock.'“
“But, Sunday is tomorrow!”
“Well, she will not find me at the shop, that's all!”
“How is it you did not breathe a word of all this business?”
“So many things have happened to me during the last few days that I have not even thought of the Comtesse. What a disappointment for her!” and with these words the little romp clapped her hands.
A thought suddenly struck me.
“Would you be afraid if a woman made love to you?”
“I! What should I be afraid of?”
“I don't know.”
“No; especially if I am forewarned and I know what it is. Come, you have formed some plan?”
“I? No, I confess, however, that I should feel amused to see how a woman sets about it, to make love to another woman.”
“Just, as if you hadn't seen that already, you wicked man!”
“No, I once saw some girls playing at that sort of thing for the sake of money; but you know, it was not the real thing.”
“Well, that is a pity.”
“Perhaps it would be possible to renew your acquaintance with her?”
“How?”
“Do you know her address?”
“No.”
“But you were at her house.”
“The carriage took me there, but I did not notice the street or number.”
“If such is the case let us say no more about it. You will find some other lady-love, perhaps more than one-I feel certain.”
“Well, now when I come to think of it, you are not jealous, sir?”
“Of a woman, why should I be jealous of a woman? She will only excite your amorous desires, and I shall get a much better reception when I come to satisfy them.”
“But if it were a man?”
“Ah!” said I, in as serious a tone as I could; “that's another matter. If you deceived me with a man, I should kill you!”
“I am glad to hear that. I was getting afraid that you did not love me.”
“Do not love you? You will see!” Luckily it was easy for me to give her proofs of my love. I took her in my arms and put her on the bed. In a moment we lay stark naked side by side.
I had forgotten till then to pull aside the curtain which hid the looking glass, I slipped the cord and it came into view.
Violette uttered an exclamation of joy.
“Ah!” said she, “how charming. We shall be able to see ourselves in the glass.”
“Yes; as long as you can look on.”
“I bet you I will look to the very end.”
“I bet you cannot.”
I began operations by imprinting a long kiss on that part called the Mount of Venus.
“Ah!” said she, “you will not be able to see anything now.”
“You will use your eyes for both of us, and I will guess as much as I can.”
I then used my tongue as I had done before.
“Ah!” she said, “I know what you are doing; but the sensation is even better than the other day. Oh! where do you put your tongue now? The sensation is so delightful, I think I shall die!… Good gracious!… No! no! I will not yield! I will resist!… I will… Ah I am vanquished!… My dear love, my eyes are closing up… I cannot see anything. I die!”
Nights follow one another without being alike for lovers only, but as the description of this one might seem the exact reproduction of the preceding one, I shall beg leave of the reader to say nothing further about it.
The next day about twelve o'clock, I was drawing a sketch of Violette from memory, when there came a ring at the bell, and my servant said the Comtesse de Mainfoy wished to see me. I had a foreboding.
“Usher her in,” I said to my man, and going to the door of the dining room, I led the way to my bedroom, which served me also for a study and a studio.
She seemed at first a little embarrassed, took an armchair and after some hesitation lifted her veil. She was a tall young woman of about eight and twenty, with magnificent curls flowing over her shoulders; her eyebrows, eyelashes and eyes were jet black, her nose straight, her lips as red as coral, with a rather heavy chin. Her breasts and hips were not so well developed as one might have expected from her height.
Perceiving that I awaited an explanation of her visit:
“Sir,” she said, “you will perhaps think it rather strange that I should call on you; but you alone can give me the information I seek.”
I bowed assent.
“I am too happy, Madame, to be able to do anything for you.”
“Sir, there was at the milliner's who lives on the ground floor of this house, a young girl who goes by the name of Violette.”
“Just so, Madame.”
“She disappeared three days ago. When I enquired of her young friends and the mistress of the house, they one and all replied that they could not say what had become of her. But when I applied to the master and said that I felt much interested in the child; in fact, to a degree that I should employ the police to look for her, he said that he had good reasons for believing that if I applied to you, I could procure the information I require. I trust therefore, you will kindly inform me of her whereabouts.”
“I have no reason whatever for keeping the child out of the way, especially as you wish her well; but I was wrong no doubt in keeping her from M. Beruchet, who had unscrewed the bolt of her bedroom so as to be able to enter at any time for his own purposes. At two o'clock in the morning the child came here for protection, and I took her in, that's all.”
“What! is she here?” cried the Comtesse.
“Not here, Madame; that was impossible. But I had my own bachelor's rooms where I took her.”
“Will you kindly let me have the address?”
“With the greatest of pleasure, Madame. Violette has often spoken of you.”
“She spoke to you about me?”
“Yes, Madame. She said how good you had been to her; and at the very time when the poor child needs protection so much, I should be sorry to deprive her of yours.”
“I can can only thank you heartily, and say how happy I am, sir, that the poor child, not having applied to me, should have sought refuge with you.”
Thereupon I wrote the address: “Rue Neuve Saint Augustin; first floor; the folding doors of green velvet. From me-” and I signed: Christian.
I was not known by any other name in the house.
