— Indeed, she's my wife.
— But her husband was unknown.
— The reason for that was that I nearly always away on trip.
— And how is Mrs. de Sancy? the abbess inquired politely.
— Last time I saw her she was in fine health, Choisy said, laughing inwardly at the huge joke it all was.
That Mrs. de Sancy was a figment of Choisy's imagination. Before calling himself countess of Barres, he had been Mrs. de Sancy and had inhabited the Faubourg Saint Marceau under this personality and had led a joyous life, but he had given much to charity in order to allay the gossipers' evil tongues.
He did not, of course, tell the truth to the abbess, but, seeing that she was interested, he talked for a long while about his travels in Holland, in Berlin and in Venice, naturally hiding the ribald parts. The abbess listened with delight to Choisy's recital of his would-be adventures which opened up new horizons for her, penned up as she was between the four walls of the convent.
— You must be feeling sorry for us for the motionless trite life we are living, she told Choisy with a sigh.
— No, I don't, replied Choisy, and I must add that I even envy you. True, your universe is limited but you in particular have the responsibility over souls. Your task must be complicated at times. Have you ever had any difficult incident with your black sheep?
— I do my best to show them the right way, the abbess answered diplomatically.
Choisy was hoping she would have mentioned the case of Angela de la Grise, but however hard he tried to bring her into the conversation by a roundabout way, he failed to get any information about her and, as he was not supposed to know the people of the province around the convent, he did not insist-he retired to his room after having partaken of a proffered snack.
He did not go to bed, but instead, remained dressed and watchful. As soon as he heard no noise, he left his room silently and wandered along the corridors. But how was he to find where Angela de la Grise was?
He went so far as opening doors without a noise, but, among the prostrate bodies sound asleep, he could not make out the girl he was looking for.
Having decided to go back to his room disappointed he suddenly found a room from where a ray of light was filtering. Through the keyhole he saw a woman dressed in a night-gown who was kneeling by her bed.
Silently-but not silently enough-he opened the door. The woman stopped her prayer and opened her eyes wide with fright for a moment, then covered them with her hands and said in a trembling voice:
— Please don't hurt me! I knew you would be coming-I had a warning. I am in a state of sin. Dictate your orders.
Choisy came nearer. The sinner hid her face in her bed. Her nightgown revealed fleshy appetising shapes. Choisy yielded to the temptation of touching them with his hands and the body shuddered. With a light hand he discovered and even explored. Yes, he was really expected and it would have been offending Satan to leave this flesh in an uncontented state.
So he deftly took out his prick and applied it between the two orbs that faced him. He found the aperture, all moist and warm, and went in. It was the first time he had fucked a girl whose face was hidden in the bedsheets and whom he had not previously kissed. It was quite thrilling for him to act this part of the devil-for the girl thought he was being sent by Satan to punish her.
But actually, the girl seemed to enjoy her “punishment.” Choisy was excited by the odour of clean-laundered bed-sheets and the unperfumed body-odeur of the girl who was perspiring abundantly through fear and more and more through enjoyment.
After he had come twice, he went away silently and the girl remained kneeling, with her face still hidden and her backside “in the air.”
Choisy could not find his way back to his room, so he ended up in the stable where he slept the rest of the night, wondering whether the girl he had fucked was pretty or not, for he had not seen her face! He would probably never know.
When dawn came, he woke up Bouju who harnessed the horses, gave a large tip to the gardener and left the convent.
Choisy philosophically and wisely reflected that it was probably a good thing that he had failed to find Angela de la Grise, thus putting an end to his plan to abduct her. He estimated that the convent of Les Pres had given him a good enough souvenir that deserved a good place in his love annals.
Anyway, it was only a small sin. The charity of the flesh is a charity like the others and the charitable one is rewarded from the fact that love is accomplished with more frenetic passion by women who have been long deprived of it.
Choisy's adventure at the convent of Les Pres was far from being an exception. We know of the orgies organized by Casanova and the Cardinal of Bemis at the Carmelites of Murano, near Venice. Saint-Simon, in his Memoirs, tells that there was an open war between two aristocratic convents of Paris to decide which of the two would produce the girl who was to become the official mistress of the new nuncio. The prelates' choice fell upon a canoness of Remiremont. The same canoness was to become a few days later the mistress of the king Louis XIV for a few days. Public opinion took both these incidents in a different way. They approved of the nuncio's choice of the canoness, and would have thought it a scandal had he chosen for his mistress a woman who would not have belonged to the Church. But, for the king, it was feared that, a scandal would break out from his taking as his favourite a canoness. The religious point of view, like many others, differs according to the onlooker.
Choisy's point of view was elementary. He belonged, as we know, to the Church, and he took smilingly his pleasure where Providence-this religious aspect of destiny-showed it to him. Thus, for instance, he had gone to the convent of Les Pres with the intention of abducting the naive and lean Miss de la Grise. God preserved him from this ravishment for which he would have been indicted before the Supreme Court of Paris. But Providence was there to place in his path the good fortune of an undreamt of opportunity to satisfy his carnal hunger. The penitent was hiding her face but leaving the rest uncovered, appetising and comfortable. Choisy found how comfortable her shapes were by running his expert hands around them. He knew nothing of his partner, not even whether she was fair-haired, dark-haired or a red-head. But the enigma which he would never decipher made his pleasure more acute and he imparted a diabolical voluptuousness on this penitent who was offering to God what she thought men did not want any longer. That is generally the origin of penance. Choisy proved the contrary to her and made happy this woman about whom he knew nothing and whose face and smile he would never behold. And as he left her contented and sighing with bliss on her rough bed she wondered, intrigued rather than worried, whether she had been penetrated by the organ of a lover or the finger of God.
Did not the same thing happen to Miss de Montmorency-Boutteville, whom the duke of Chatillon abducted from the convent of Saint-Blaise to marry her, after having taken on the spot an installment on a wedding-night? Then, six months later, after he was killed in one of the battles waged at that time between princes, wasn't it the same thing that happened again at the convent of Chaumont where the widow who had entered this convent disconsolately, gave way to the duke of Nemours in her cell and became his ardent and romantic mistress?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Choisy arrived in Paris and took again possession of his house in the Faubourg Saint-Marceau, under the identity of Mrs. de Sancy. This house was soon open to former acquaintances who were not all unaware of Choisy's sexual mystifications, but who, amused by them, winked at them and kept mum.
It was now the beginning of autumn and people were beginning to come back to the capital from the now cold and humid countryside. And the military people also were resting and taking up their winter quarters in Paris, waiting for the resumption of operations in the spring.
Choisy was a perfect host-or rather hostess, since he was disguised as a woman. He always had good food, well prepared and plentiful. His wit was much appreciated in the conversations.
His revenue was eked out by his frequent winnings at cards. He was often lucky, and a brilliant strategist, but he never cheated, for that would not have been tolerated, even from Mrs. de Sancy.
He remained on excellent terms with the curate of the parish, being pious and also giving a lot to charity. He
