The Altar of Venus

Chapter VI

Without further hesitation with a matter of fact directness which indicated perfect familiarity with the task in hand, she twisted about on the sofa and the next instant her face was between Irma's legs. With my gaze now on Luiclle's bobbing head, then on Irma's face as she surrendered her body to the intimate caress, I watched the realization of the act following every graduation of its effects upon Irma in her facial expressions. When I saw her hands suddenly dart to Lucille's head and perceived in her eyes that intent strained look which proceeds orgasm I was almost on the verge of spon-taneaus ejaculation myself. When the tensed thighs relaxed their pressure upon the child's face and the hands withdrew from her head she sat up, reached for a towel and wiped off her lips. Irma lay with her head thrown back and eyes closed for a few moments and then with a lanquished movement drew the kimona about her naked legs. With a sly glance toward me she placed an arm about Lucille and drew her face down, whispering something in her ear.

Lucille slipped off the sofa and approached

me. Before I had time to guess her intent, she stripped open the front of my trousers, withdrew my cock and standing between my knees, began to masturbate me. As the tide rose in response to her soft manipulation I made no effort to restrain it and sending the impending crisis, she cupped one hand over the head, and the other slowly drew out the semen. It spurted into her hand, tricking between her fingers in milky jets. When it was all out she wiped her fingers and then with professional seriousness, performed a like service for me.

"She's a perfect little jewel, isn't she?" said Irma, her eyes on me, a quizzical smile on her lips.

"She's a treasure!" I agreed fervently "I'd like to adopt her permanently."

"Well, we'll keep her here tonight, anyway. I want another session or two with her yet tonight myself." responded Irma.

We lounged there for an hour talking, joking and sipping burgundy while Lucille, over her first feeling of restraint, entertained us with accounts of her adventures with u rich ladies". We induced her to remove her pajamas and show us some of the positions and methods she was familiar with.

"Doesn't doing such things make you feel

funny down here?" I asked, placing my hand over her little cunt.

"Certainment! Sometimes the ladies do it to me, too!"

"Ah! How do they do it, darling?"

"Viola! With their tongues! With their fingers!"

"Does it feel nice?"

"Yes! It feels good down there, and all down inside my- legs! Sometimes I do it to myself, too!"

"Show us how, darling!"

"With my finger! Like this … !" Suiting action to word, she pushed away the hand with which I was caressing her, spread her legs apart and placed the tip of a little forefinger on her clitoris, rubbing it with a circular motion.

She realized the exhibition with such an entire lack of self-consciousness, and in such a natural, matter of fact way, that Irma and I were both convulsed with laughter.

"Come on; let's all go to bed. You can show us some more there", exclaimed Irma when we had recovered our composure.

Carrying Lucille in my arms, I followed Irma to the bedroom. They proceeded to make themselves comfortable on the big bed where I joined them as soon as I had undressed.

Despite the outlet to my passion which Lucille's slim little fingers had afforded but a short hour previously the sight and contact of the two naked females soon restored my virility, and wakened new temptation. I pressed up against Irma but when she felt my cock touch her bare flesh she jerked away.

"The way you are now," she exclaimed, "you'll go off before you've had it inside half a minute and I don't want you to. You've got to hold yourself! The way I feel tonight, 1 want a good long one, two or three hours, anyway!"

"But Irma, dear, I'll hold back as long as I can!"

"If you'd do like I tell you, you could hold back still longer and it would feel twice as good. But you won't do it, you wait just so long and then you let go!"

"But sometimes I can't keep from it!"

"That's just imagination. You don't try. If you'd stop moving it at the right time and be still you could be with a hard-on all night, and we'd have lots more fun."

"Yes, but when I get to a certain point I can't help but move it!"

"I'll fix you so you won't move it!" she exclaimed suddenly.

Jumping- from the bed, she ran out in the room, to return a moment later with some twisted

silk ropes she had pulled from a set of portieres in the drawing room.

"What are you going to do with those?"

"I'm going to tie you up with them."

"Tie me up?"

"Yes! Tie you up!"

"Go ahead!" I replied, much amused.

She pushed me down on the bed, obediently, I extended my arms and legs. First, she knotted the silk cord around one of my wrists and tied it to one of the corner posts of the heavy bedstead, repeating the process on the opposite side with my other wrist. Then she fastened my ankles in a similar fashion to the foot of the bed. When she had finished the job to her satisfaction, I found myself spread-eagled out in a position far from dignified but I consoled myself with the reflection that a gooii stout jerk would break the cords and release me at any desired moment. For the present I was content to let her go ahead with her play.

She surveyed her handiwork speculatively for a moment, and then began to laugh.

"Now I've got you just the way I want you, and this time, when you start squirting it will be when I want you to!" ^

During the tying-up process my cock had wilted, and now, pointing at it she addressed Lucille who up to this moment had stood by, an interested spectator, only.

"Make the lazy thing stand up, darling!"

Sitting down on the edge of the bed near me, Lucille extended her hand and her fingers closed around the object referred to. A few movements of her wrist sufficed to restore its rigidity whereupon Irma, to my disgust, halted the pleasant manipulation. Accommodating herself on the opposite side of the bed, she began to discourse on the advantages of self-control, and the art of prolonging erotic pleasures, punctuating her remarks at intervals by reaching over and pumping my cock. It was a tantalizing situation in which I found myself-straddled out on my back, my arms and legs tightly secured, my cock pointing toward the ceiling and throbbing im-potently under the provocations of the "two females, who vtook turns in toying and teasing it.

But this was nothing in comparison with what was yet to come.

At Irma's suggestion Lucille got up on the bed and seated herself astride my chest, her knees doubled under her on either side of me and her cleft within a few inches of my face. The sight of this tempting morsel so close to my lips, the feel of her bottom on my chest and the pressure of her thighs combined to aggravate my condition.

"Now you can pay her back for what she did to me!" insinuated Irma.

More than willing, I raised my head, Lucille edged up closer, and in a few seconds my tongue was between the two little naked converging lips. I located a tiny clitoris without difficultty, and quickly demonstrate^ the fact that little clitorises are as responsive to an active tongue as big ones., And while Lucille was twitching and quivering with her genitals planted firmly over my mouth, Irma intermittenly pumped my cock, working it vigorously for a few seconds, then releasing it to throb helplessly in solitary abandon Lucille suddenly inclined herself forward, and I left her thighs clenching themselves tightly about me. She clung to me rigidly for a moment and then jerked away. She had received her compensation.

The taste and humidity of her genitals remained on my lips, augmenting my own excitation. Irma's hand was clasped about my cock, but she was not moving it. I raised my lips in an endeavor to obtain sufficient friction to release the pent up tide, but she divided the purpose, laughed, and withdrew her hand. Hungrily, my eyes devoured the lascivious spectacle of her nudity, and as they rested inevitably upon the most intimate of her charms, she murmured teasingly:

"You've seen hers, and now you want to see mine, too, eh? Viola! I'll let you look!"

And mounting on the bed, the exhuberant Russian placed herself on her hands and knees directly over my face. With all the desperation of Tantalus, grasping for water just beyond his reach, I strained my neck in an effort to reach her cunt with my tongue.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, "You're not satisfied with seeing it! Now you want to lick it! Well, lick it, then!"

And she sat down on my chest, as Lucille had done. And, as I had done with Lucille I did with her. I licked and sucked until she too had orgasm, and bathed my lips and cheeks with her offering to Venus.

This was the final straw and I decided that it was time for me to get a little satisfaction myself. I pulled tentatively at the cords and when they failed to give I jerked at them with all my strength. To my surprise I was unable to break them and after a few more efforts while Irma and Lucille looked on laughing I discovered that I was trussed up far mare efficiently than I had first imagined.

Irma assured me that she didn't propose to free me for "hours and hours yet" and that I might as well make up my mind to stand it.

In part, she made good her threat, and during two solid hours, or more, I was subjected to such tantalizing manipulations and treated to such spectacles as nearly set me frantic. While I lay there alternately swearing and coaxing, she and Lucille diverted themselves in my sight by running the gamut from Lesbian and Sapphic embraces, to mutual mastubation, pausing between whiles to sit on the edge of the couch, and tease me with naughty words and actions.

About twelve o'clock, it became apparent that Lucille was exhausted, and Irma considerately carried her to an adjoining room, making her comfortable for the night. The younster had conscientiously lent her little body to every caprice of her hosts, and had well earned whatever recompense awaited her on the morrow.

Returning to where I was still stretched out on the bed Irma stood looking down at me a moment.

"Now see if what I told you isn't true!" she said.

She got upon the couch, and placed herself on knees astride my body. First came the contact of soft hair as she nestled down upon me, then the warm, humid constriction of her genitals as she sank down upon and received the scepter of life between her thighs. Once, trice, thrice I perceived a muscular contraction,, is though something inside was convulsively gripping and

squeezing the sensative gland. Then without conscious volition on my part, the semen was suddenly leaping forth to the grateful pressure. Jet followed jet, while she sat there immoible, her eyes fixed intently on my face. Not until the flood had spent its force was she caught in the current of its contagion. Then, raising and lowering herself on the impaling shaft with frantic energy, she gasped:

"Didn't I, ah! . . . tell you it was, oh! . . . better this way … oh! … oh! . . . o-o-o-oh!"

The fly in the otherwise delicious "ointment" was this: My little Russian sweetheart was a drug addict.

My lack of experience in such things prevented me from recognizing this circumstance during the first week we were together. She was young, possessed of great vitality and as yet her physical health had not been undermined. After I had gotten an inkling of the truth she discontinued all effort to conceal the addiction from me and tried to persuade me to experiment with narcotics, ridiculing my objections. So persistent were her efforts to conceive me that knowing her determined character, I was uneasy. I began to understand her phenominal sexual prowess, and the sudden furious accesses of lubricity Which took possession of her, body and soul, at frequent intervals. I began to fear that I was

permitting myself, unconsciously, to drift into swirling currents which eventually I would find myself incapable of resisting, I enjoyed all these things, but I wished to remian master of my vices and not become subservient to them.

One night we lay in bed examining a collection of naughty pictures among which was one of a woman on her hands and knees receivinjg the emblem of masculine virility in her bottom. Whenever Irma saw anything in pictures which struck her fancy she always wanted to put it into immediate practise. When her eyes lit on this picture, she exclaimed:

"There is something I've always had a temptation to try! And now is as good a time as ever!"

"All right, dear!" I agreed.

She slipped out of bed, got a small jar of pomade and spread some of its contents over my cock. Then, raising her night robe, and adopting the posture shown in the picture which had inspired this idea, she kneeled down, resting on her forearms. Obligingly, I knelt behind her, and placing the head of my cock against her bottom tried to insert it. I could tell from the way she flinched that the pressure hurt her. But she was determined so I continued until I had suceeded in getting the head inside. Palpably the unaccustomed distension of delicate membranes was painful to her, and though she suffered a partial intromission valiantly she made no effort to get it further in. For my part, kneeling there behind her, more interested in her reactions than in my own, I became aware of rhythmical contractions which followed each other at short intervals and which were of sufficient intensity to generate reciprocal echos in my own organism. The repeated muscular contractions about the head of my cock, quite contrary to my own inclinations, were bringing me rapidly to orgasm, and when I finally let go, Irma moaned, squirmed and gasped under the slight friction that I was unable to resist imparting during the fast few moments. When it was over and I had withdrawn my cock she insisted that though painful, the experiment had been productive of exquisite sensations.

As we lay for a while discussing the subject, I jokingly observed that if she wanted it that way she should look for a Turk, or an Arab. I heard that men of these races are formed rather different than Caucasians in that their cocks, though longer, are much more slender. In fact, this condition is referred to by writers as being one reason. for their sodomitic tendencies and their inclination for boys in preference to women for sexual gratification. "Women for babies, boys for pleasure" is an axiom among these men. Due to the peculiarly slender formation of their

cocks, the female organs do not provide enough constriction for maximum pleasure, and when dealing with them for purposes other than pro-creative, they prefer the back door to the one originally intended. It seems odd if the condition is racial as alleged, that Mother Nature did not compensate the unusual proportions of their cocks with corresponding dimensions in the cunts of their females.

To my surprise, Irma took my joking comments seriously, and waxed enthusiastic over the idea of having one of those long, slender cocks incerted in. her bottom. She immediately began to speculate as to the possibility of securing an Arab for the purpose. Then another thought occurred to her and she proposed the substitution of a small boy-one whose cock had not yet attained proportions.

Supposing that the idea would be forgotten by the next day I said nor more, and soon thereafter dropped off to sleep.

But to waste no time in superfluous details, it was not forgotten and two days later when I returned to the villa after a ramble through the streets I found her engaged in bathing another street urchin, this time of masculine sex. This brazen little vagrant entirely unabashed at his nakedness, with his small cock sticking straight gut under her fingering, was boasting about how many girls he had fucked.

As was her custom Irma pepped herself up for the occasion with an injection which she vainly tried to get me to share, and then, while I lolled in an easy chair in the capacity of an audience she removed her panties, twisted her kimona about her waist, and laid face down on the bed. The youngster following instructions, clambered up on top of her. His cock, after a few aimless movements between the cheeks of her bottom, was finally taken in her fingers, and started in the right direction. It went in all right without any difficulty, and, up to the hilt. Irma's frantic movements her flushed cheeks her distended eyes, to say nothing of audible indications of pleasure were sufficient to indicate that the experiment, this time, was an unqualified success.

When we retired that night Irma presented me with a box of cigarettes of Chinese manufacture, and wanted me to try them immediately. I smoked two of them, one after the other, and observed a peculiar, pungent flavor, entirely different from that of any cigarettes I had ever smoked before. Even as I was speculating on their odd taste, a feeling of languidness began to steal over me. I tried to fight it off, but in a few minutes, physical sensations began to dissolve in nothingness. I did not lose conscious-

ness; my brain and thoughts remained active, but my body seemed to have gone. I had no hands or arms or legs or in fact any corporeal body. The only physical sense which remained was that of hearing. This seemed to have become strangely acute, I could see nothing, I felt nothing but the tick of a clock on an adjacent bureau resounded like the measured blows of a hammer on a blacksmith's anvil.

Across my thoughts raced the recollection of the girl in the moving picture who had been drugged. I knew that the strange tasting cigarettes I had smoked were responsible for my condition, but it caused me no preoccupation. To the contrary I seemed to be floating in an atmosphere of superlative tranquility-a nebulous state of perfect contentment, and the sensation was delicious beyond description.

The floating drifting impression continued for some time and then gradually and peacefully, I lost consciousness.

The next thing I knew, I was awakening from a refreshing slumber, which had imbued me with rare strength, and a feeling of inexpressible vigor. My cock was standing up with a firmness and rigidity surpassing anything I had ever experienced, and felt as though it were twice normal size. I was lying on the silken covers of a luxurious couch, my limbs covered with a

robe of some material so fine in texture that its contact with my naked flesh was lik^ an exquisite caress. The sense of feeling had returned to me, and I marvelled at the softness of the bed and the beauty of the garment which was draped about my body. I lay for a while in a state of blissful lassitude then stirring myself I looked about me. The surroundings were entirely unfamiliar. Never had I gazed on such wonderous and majestic architecture nor such a medley of beautiful colors as met my vision. By what agical means had I been transported to this enchanted palace? Light was filtering in through stained glass of a hundred different hues and colors, and to my ears there came the saound of soft strange music, something like the muted strains of a mighty organ, but sweeter, richer, than anything I had ever heard before.

Suddenly I became aware of a figure standing near one of the massive pillars of alabaster, which supported the dome of this vast room. It was the figure of a little girl. She was dressed in a long gown of dark red color which, draped loosely about her fell almost to her little sandal clad feet. Her hair black as night, hung about her neck and shoulders in a cascade of soft curls. She was ravishingly, seductively beautiful.

As I gazed at her in rapt ecstasy, she smiled

and advanced slowly toward me. On she came until at last she reached the side of the couch. Still smiling, she extended her hand, and inserted it within the folds of the garment which covered my body. It went directly to my cock and closed about it. Her fingers toyed with it a moment, playing lightly over the throbbing flesh and then with a gentle clasp she commenced to work the foreskin up and down. A feeling of ineffable ecstasy permeated my being, and as its radiations intensified, I inclined my body toward her, placed an arm about her hips and drew her closer. She smiled again, and in her eyes was the understanding of age-old wisdom.

With one arm still about her hips I reached down, placing my hand on the bare flesh of her ankle, just under the edge of her robe. Inch by inch it crept upward over the soft curve of her leg, over a rounded knee, up the length of her thigh. And in the meanwhile, the play of her hand on my cock continued uninterrupted. I reached the juncture of her legs, and with blissful anticipation placed my hand over her cunt -or rather, where her cunt should have been, for instead of a warm, moist little cunt, it found a cock, small, but erect and hard! A beautiful little girl with a boy's cock!

This anomaly did not disturb me. I was in a state in which all was perfect. If she had a boy's cock, all right. I took it between my fingers, and began to work it in reciprocation of the caress with which I was being favored. Her robe interfered with my movements and I separated the folds so that the little cock stuck out between her.

As my own organism responded to her ministrations, and the culminating moment approached, the movement of her wrist increased in velocity. The music in the distance became louder. Something white and wet flashed out of the end of the little cock between my fingers-and in the same instant my own began to pour forth its tribute. The music increased to a roar, the vast room began to whirl, and quickly all was a maze of crashing confusion. When the pandemonium died away the wonderous room had disappeared. There was no beautiful little girl, with a boy's cock and yet, dimly, vaguely, I seemed still to be clutching that warm bit of flesh.

Gradually, the realization stole over me that I had, experienced a fantastic, but wierdly realistic dream. I opened my eyes and recognized the familiar surroundings. Irma was lying beside me, propped up on her elbow, watching my face intently. Her right hand was holding my cock still wet and dripping, and just begin-

ning to wilt down. When she saw that I was awake, she broke into hysterical laughter.

"What in the world are you trying to do with my finger?" . . . she exclaimed between spasms of laughter. "You've been squeezing and pulling at it until it's nearly disjointed!"

Dazedly, I glanced downward. I was still gripping the index finger of her left hand.

"You little devil!" I answered, releasing it, "what was that stuff you gave me to smoke?"

I was really indignant and as she resented my failure to conside her act a favor, she remained silent. And to this day I have no knowledge of the exact nature of the drug which was responsible for my visit to artificial realms of magniflcience and eroticism.

The parting of the ways drew near. In recognition of Irma's generosity, splendid hospitality, .and the many favors she had shown me, I did everything possible to make myself agreeable to her during the remainder of my stay, and we separated the best of friends.

I passed several days wandering about the streets, or comfortably lying on my bed reading naughty French novels and magazines, collected by the score from newstands and kiosks. One afternoon as I was lazily debating the advisability of commencing preparations for my return, my detective friend presented himself. We

chatted a bit and then, putting on my hat and coat, I accompanied him downstairs, intending to have a parting drink with him before saying good-bye. We seated ourselves at a table in front of a little cafe, and ordered our favorite liquors. In the process of consuming these, my companion suddenly leaned toward me and whispered:

"Glance over your left shoulder in a moment at the girl sitting at the table just behind you. HI tell you something about her after we get away from here/'

A moment later I glaced casually around. Sitting herself sipping some colored concoction through a straw was as neat a little Parisienne as I had seen during my stay in France. Apparently eighteen or nineteen yeas old, dressed in a very short skirt, her shapely legs clad in black silk hose, and wearing a blouse of white crepe-de-chene, so diaphanous that the pink, lace edged brassiere shielding her exhuberant bubbies was plainly visible, she formed a picture whose details registered themselved with lighting rapidy in one brief glance.

Not wishing to be caught staring I turned away, and a few minutes later looked around again, this time concentrating my gaze on her face. It was entirely at variance with the extreme coquetry of her apparel, and the careless elevation of her

skirt, for her features were demure, modest, almost angelic in their pure beauty.

She was altogether too pretty not to awaken my instant admiration and after I had paid the account and we were of earshot I exclaimed:

"The cutest little trick I've seen since I've been here!"

My companion smiled cynically. "Cute is right! Entirely too cute. She's a crook."

"A crook?" I repeated, incredulously. "Yes, a crook. And a darn clever one." It seemed incredible and I could scarcely reconcile the facts as he related them with that demure sweet face and the modest downcast eyes I had seen at the little sidewalk cafe.

"And she r d have cleaned you of every franc you possess." he answered with a dry smile.

"I'm not so sure it wouldn't be worth, at that." I added, as I recalled the multiple and diverse charms of the exquisite little houri which were visible to t^e eye, and mentally conjured up naked visions of others hidden beneath the silken trappings.

"Ha!" retorted my companion, "That's the funny part of it. None of the birds she snares ever gets as much as a feel of it. She's really married to this fellow she works with, and completely infatuated with him. All the suckers get

for their money is to see her half naked for a few moments before the husband shows up. He's always right on time."

"How do they manage that?"

"Some system of signals probably. We'll get them sooner or later."

After I retired that night I lay awake for some time thinking of the girl. There was something about her which had touched a responsive chord in my being, and it was not to be suppressed even by the undisputable charges of my detective friend. And the more I thought about her, the stronger became my desire. I even studied the possibility of making her acquaintance and endeavoring to win her affection, but the idea was discarded with the recollection of my friend's statement to the effect that she was deeply enamoured with her accomplice. Finally just as I was dropping off to sleep, the germ of an idea came to me.

The next day I called on my friend and told him I had decided to remain in Paris a week or two longer.

"What's happened ? Something new in skirts ?" he asked, astutely.

"No . . . that is . . . well, I'll tell you . . : that girl we saw yesterday …"

"What!" he broke in, "A waste of time, son. You couldn't open her legs with five thousand francs. And it wouldn't be worth it, even if you could." he added, laughing.

"Wait a minute, now, before you start laughing. I've got a plan. It may open her legs, as you so crudely put it, without costing a single franc!"

"What is this plan?" he asked, cynically.

"Before I explain it, I want a little information."

"What do you want to know?" "Do you know where she takes these Lotharios for their cleaning?"

"She takes them to the apartment she and her husband occupy. They move right after each operation. We know their present location."

"Do you know whether there are any other people involved, that is, have they any confederates who participate in any way?"

"No; they work by themselves. They don't need any help the way they handle it."

"You said yesterday they probably have some system of signals that .enables the man to know the exact moment to come in. Do you think he is already in the building, or does he come in from the outside?"

"I can't answer that but one of the men who talked to us after deciding that he had been "framed" said that the fellow stepped into the

room with an overcoat on and a traveling bag in his hand, as though he had just returned from a journey."

"Do you know where she could be found, in case I wanted to get her attention as a prospective victim?"

"At any given moment, no, but she frequents cafes, in the neighborhood we were in yesterday. But why waste your time and risk your money on a wild goose chase? Aren't there enough pretty girls on the streets of Paris without wasting time on this particular little crook?"

"I'm" not interested in street chippies. See if you can't find out whether the husband secrets himself on the premises during the preliminaries or whether he comes in from outside. The practicability of the plan I have in mind depends mostly on this one detail. After you find out about it I'll explain everything.

"All right, I'll try, you're just wasting your time, son. Don't do anything foolish."

"I'll not make any move without consulting you first. If you think it imprudent I'll drop it. I'd have to have your co-operation anyway."

"Well, I'll be in to see you tomorrow evening, and let you know if I've been able to dig up anything.

I was waiting impatiently in the lobby the following evening when he arrived, and as we seat-

ed ourselves in a secluded corner, I handed him a cigar, lit one myself, and waited expectantly.

"I've got the information you wanted, son. The man comes in from the street. They either have their operations nicely timed, or else a signal of some kind is passed from the window, which by the way, fronts on the street. Their rooms are on the third floor."

"Fine!" I exclained, "Exactly what I was hoping! One more question and I'll tell you my scheme. Could you, on some pretent, arrest that chap and have him detained temporarily?"

"I could get an order to pick him up for investigation . . . but what good would it do?" he replied, doubtfully. "We have no kind of a case against him, and he would be out in a short while."

"Okay! Now I'll tell you what I have in mind. I propose to attract her attention with a display of money. If she rises to the bait, and does me the honor to accept me as a prospective victim, I'll play into her hands. Now here is where you come in. When the appointment is made you'll.be on the job and follow us at a discreet distance. When we enter the building you'll wait outside, and when hubby shows up, nab him and remove him quietly from the scene. And I'll guarantee that if I'm assured of an hour or two alone with this tricky Lorelei, safe from

the intrusion of wandering husbands, I'll have better success than my predecessors had. What about it? Will you help me?*'

"Your idea is good in theory, but it won't work in practice"

"Why won't it work?"

"Because she's too . clever. When her man fails to show up she'll know something has happened, and find a way to get rid of you.

"She won't dare make any racket and I won't be so easy to shake. Are you willing to help me give it a try?"

"Sure! I'll help you! Make a date with her, if you can, and keep me posted. It won't cost anything to try, I guess, though it will probably knock out chances of landing the birds by frightening them off."

"What's the difference," I rejoined, "your infernal bastile is full enough already."

Before he left that evening we perfected the details of the plot.

All the next day, I loitered around the cafe where we had seen her previously, carrying with me a flamboyant roll of money, small notes on the inside, a few more pretentious ones on the outside. But my virgil was in vain. In the evening my friend called me by phone, and I was obliged to report an Unsuccessful day.

"It's the neighborhood she hangs out in," he said encouragingly, "If you keep your eyes open you'll spot her."

It was not until mid-afternoon of the fourth day, that my patience was rewarded when suddenly, out of nowhere apparently, appeared the object of my search. She seated herself indolently at a table in front of a small cafe, and gave an order to the attendant.

Wih beating heart and studied nonchalance I followed her, accommodating myself at a nearby table. With but a casual glance in her direction I ordered a bottle of vin rouge, leaned back in my chair, and pretended to be watching the passers-by. When I had finished the wine, I summoned the waiter and asked for a second bottle. And at the same time I brought forth the "flash" roll from my pocket, peeled off one of the larger bills, and tendered it in payment. When he returned, I carelessly flipped a generous tip on the table, trusting that the damsel was observing my affluence and lavishness. A few moments later I glanced as though by accident in her direction. Our eyes met. She returned gaze for a few seconds, and then demurely lowered her vision. I straightened up, twisted my chair about slightly, and continued to eye her from time to time, endeavoring to indicate with my glances the admiration she had inspired^

For some minutes this little farce was kept up.

Finally she smiled at me-and there was an invitation in the smile.

I arose and approaching her table, begged her in my best French to permit me to join her. She consented modestly and was soon laughing delightedly at my efforts to pay her expressive compliments in French.

When we separated that afternoon, an appointment had been arranged for another meeting the following day.

For nearly a week our mid-afternoon meetings continued, and during this interval our friendship progressed rapidly. I missed no opportunities to convey an impression of prosperity and affluence, making many allusions to imaginary possessions, and business interests in England, and sighed regretfully over the fact that our acquaintance would be of short duration because of the urgency of my early return to London. And night by night, I reported the developments of the day to my companion in the conspiracy.

The sixth day she confided pensively that our visits were soon to terminate as she had just received a telegram from her husband announcing his return the following Saturday, and I knew that the moment had arived to speak my little piece. With all the passionate ardor I could summon, I exclaimed:

"Mon cherie, I just can't give you up without something to remember you by! You know I'm returning to England next week, and if your husband is going to be here, I will probably have to leave without seeing you. Darling, don't think me bold, but couldn't we go some places and have a day or two together, all by ourselves? Some nice quiet place, where we can be alone, and spend everything of the time just loving each other?"