The Romances Of Blanche La Mare

CHAPTER FOUR

But to return to the earlier history of Blanche La Mare, so scandalously interrupted by the Baron and his boys.

I will skip all further details of my life in London till the Herbert Restall Company got away on tour. We were to open at Oxford and the “train call” was for Paddington, 11:30 of one memorable Sunday morning. I turned up early, unaccompanied, for Madame Karl had gone out to supper the night before, and had not returned-perhaps as a little revenge for my absences.

Still, I was not the first on the platform, and I soon got to learn that the habit of theatrical companies was to arrive very early at the station, and exhibit their best frocks. I had my best frock on, and I'm certain it was the best in the company. Herbert Restall cast an admiring glance at me when he arrived. He did not speak to me, and I noted the reason, his wife, an angular lady past fifty, and of forbidding and none-conformist type of countenance, followed him everywhere.

We had a special train from platform number three, and I was engaged in looking for it, when Annesley appeared.

“Madame Karl is so sorry she couldn't get back,” he apologized, “but her cousin was ill, and-.”

“Never mind the explanations,” I cut him short. “I hope you both enjoyed yourselves.”

To judge from the lines under his eyes, he had.

He found me the train, and he found me also the acting manager, who was engaged in gumming labels on the carriage windows; labels indicative of the compartments to be occupied by various members of the company. Thanks also to Annesley's introduction, I was not put to travel with the chorus ladies, but with the two “Sisters Knock,” the dancers, to whom also Annesley introduced me, and we all repaired to the bar together, in which pleasant spot were assembled the majority of the company, some seventy all told.

To Annesley's introduction I owed a pleasant journey, for the two sisters Knock turned out jolly companions, and very soon threw off any reserve. We stelled into our corners; I produced my cigarette case, and conversation very soon became not only general, but free.

They were neither of them girls who made the slightest pretence of being moral; they took it for granted that I was the same. They were pretty girls, hopelessly uneducated and common, but possessing a certain subtle gaminerie that gave them an odd charm of manner. They were dancers, wherefore it is not necessary to do more than state that their figures were excellent. They were absurdly alike, in face, figure, eyes, hair and everything and by dressing alike, down to the very smallest detail, they made it very difficult for anyone but their most intimate friends to tell the difference. Once, when I knew them better, I ventured to remonstrate with them on this point.

“You must at least make a point of helping people to decide between you.” I said. But the eldest Miss Knock, who was generally the spokeswoman of the two, was not at all of my way of thinking. “My dear stupid little darling,” she opined, “That's exactly why we keep the deception up. We don't want people to know the difference. Now, barring that Maud's got a bit of a mole on her left hip which I haven't, we're just about as alike as two peas.”

She helped herself out of a generously sized flask, passed it round, and settled down to be confidential.

Then she went on to tell me how useful it was when either she or her sister had an engagement with a man that they couldn't keep. It appeared that no man could tell them apart, even in bed, and even, when quite undressed, and in a strong light. All that Maud had to do when her sister sent her in her place was to put a bit of gold beater's skin over the tell tale mole, and things were all Sir Garnet. In fact Maud once went to Paris for a week with a new mash of Mabel's, while Mabel stopped at home to see after a rich American whom she had just picked up. If it hadn't been for that convenient sister she would have had to forego either the American or the other boy, which would have meant a loss of money. Mabel was the best talker of the two, and it was generally she who first attracted the men, but which sister the men got afterwards, when matters had been arranged, was simply a matter of chance. The girls went shares in all they got, and they did very well. Likewise to mention a very intimate matter, it came in particularly useful when one of two happened to be incapacitated from love by the presence of her monthly periods. The other simply filled the vacancy Mabel collared quite a sum of money on one occasion, it appeared, by wagering with a rich young sportsman that she would take fifteen men twice each, during a night of eight hours, and come every time. Now she was game for fifteen, being a girl of exceptionally amorous and capable temperament, but double that amount was naturally beyond her. So the arrangement was made that the tourney was to take place in her own flat, and that she was to be left alone for a while between each insertion.

Of course you can guess that sister Maud, of the existence of whom the men where unaware, stepped into the gap on alternate occasions, and the deed was triumphantly accomplished and the money won, two hundred and fifty pounds, quiet a nice little doucer for the two.

I believe it was a delightful ceremony. The young man who made the bet brought fourteen of his friends, and they was Sandhurst boys in the very pink of health and physical strength, and right lustily they accomplished their task.

The whole affair was very well managed, I gathered from Mabel's narrative. The boy who proposed the bet was rich, and he presented the performers with a supper amply calculated to in every way feed their lust. Likewise a sideboard groaned with good things to eat and drink to sustain the men and the greatly daring girl during the night.

The first supper was decorous enough, for Mabel refused any early advances on the part of the men. A few bawdy toasts were drank, and Mabel was made to swear a solemn oath that she would not lie about coming. Supper over, the devoted girl retired to her room, which led out of the dining room, and returned stark naked. And a pretty sight she must have been, exciting indeed to the eyes of those randy young men. I have often seen her naked in the dressing room, for she was one of those girls who have no scruples about exposing herself naked to the gaze of others of the same sex, and I always admired her.

The men drew lots for order of performing, the proposer of the bet, however, reserving to himself the third turn, which he reckoned would be the best. That settled, Mabel let the way in to the bedroom, arranged herself on the luxurious bed, and called to the first man to come on and do his damndest. He stripped, a muscular young giant of nineteen, blushing a little at the unaccustomed publicity of his act, and was into her without further ado. He had given but three or four vigorous thrusts when the dear girl cried out that she had come and forced him to get off her. There was no doubt about the coming; the hero of the wager introduced his finger into the well greased aperture, and abundantly satisfied himself. Then arose a difficulty. Mabel asserted that the act of her coming constituted the completion of the fuck, but the only half satisfied young man naturally asserted that he had an equal right to finish his share of the business. After some argument the poor girl had to agree that he had, and, though she offered to suck him instead, he remounted, and finished, making her come once more before it was done.

The assembly filed out into the next room, leaving Mabel alone. She was to ring a handbell when next prepared.

Of course Maud, her patch of gold beater's skin concealing the mole, was produced out of a cupboard, whence she had viewed the proceedings and gathered all the conversation, so that she should not be found forgetful of any subject that might have been broached. The men were not a little astonished to hear the bell go almost immediately after their departure, and then were still more astonished to witness the vigorous lust that the pseudo-Mabel displayed.

It was only a question of a few frantic strokes and the second hero and Maud united their spending and obviously completed the fuck.

She went back into the dining room with them to take a little refreshment. “Maud,” so Mabel told me, “was ever the drinking one of the two.” She then retired, and in five more minutes the bell rang for the third man who quite unexpecting so speedy a gratification of his lusts had not begun to undress.

And so the game went on, first Mabel and then Maud rising to the occasion, till all the men had had their first go within less than two hours from the start.

After that Mabel-she did practically all the talking-bargained for a couple of hours sleep, which was granted her. At the end of the two hours, she was awakened- Maud, poor thing, had had to put up with the narrow limits of an armchair in the cupboard all that time, and the contest began anew. The girls worked so well that there were but two fucks to be completed when there still remained two hours of the allotted time to run. At that juncture Maud nearly failed. Instead of profiting by the time limit to have a good rest, she pronounced herself ready directly after Mabel had taken the twenty-eighth cock.

When her young man had finished, and he was not unreasonably quick about it, he asked her if she had complied with the regulations. She, being a straight-forward girl, was bound to reply that she had not. The question then arose whether the man who just finished, being incapable of immediate continuance, another might take his place. Maud protested that she could do it, if only the man was not in such a hurry. Eventually it took four of them, one after the other, each working their hardest, while Maud herself made herself naughty by imagining the depraved things, before the blessed dew anointed the lips of her cunt.

It was perhaps bad policy, but Mabel could not resist the opportunity for working a considerable surprise. Almost directly after the fatigued Maud had washed herself and retired into the cupboard, she walked out into the sitting room, quaffed a glass of champagne, and announced herself ready for the last man. He mounted her there and then in the room and they came together in about two minutes.

Then the check was handed over, and so ended a surprising evening.

When we arrived at Oxford I was undecided where to stay; being quite in ignorance of theatrical tours and living arrangements, I had intended to go to a hotel. Certainly my salary was only thirty-five shillings a week, but I had a little spare cash. The genial sisters Knock, however, quickly disabused me of that. “Come and stop with us, old dear,” they said, “don't go putting up at hotels and making folks think you're a tart before they can prove it.”-and I went.

The rooms were rather a shock. Small and meanly furnished-the mural decorations consisted of a religious tract and lithographs, and the landlady was as dirty as she was familiar. But the sisters seemed to think they were in clover. “Old Ma Osborne's a bit of all right,” explained one of the, “doesn't mind who we have in, or what we do, and that's saying something in a place like Oxford.”

When the question of dinner was mooted, old Ma Osborne grinned, “Well me dears,” she said, “I haven't worried about getting you any dinners, because knowing you like and your habits, I've took the liberty of telling Lord Hingley of the house, which is Christ Church College; me dear, that he might be at liberty to call. And Lord Hingley, me dears, will see as how you have a better dinner than I might be able to offer to you her.”

I was inclined to be annoyed, but held my peace.

Maud Knock (the one with the mole) became business-like at once.

“Many thanks, I'm sure Mrs. Osborne,” she said, “but who is Lord Hingley, he's not on my visiting list?”

“Is he all right?” chipped in the moleless sister, “none of your courtesy title paupers, eh, what?”

“All right; that I would say he is. Ten thousand a year he has, as I should know, dearies, my husband being his scout for night on two years in college, and as generous a gentleman as ever was.”

The sisters Knock nodded assent, and Ma Osborne retired beaming.

The highly recommended Lord Hingley presently made his appearance accompanied by his friend, Mrs. Charles Latimer; apparently they had only reckoned on two, and I saw breakers ahead, for, without conceit, I knew well enough that neither of the sisters could hold a candle to me in looks, or in any sort of attraction.

We were conveyed in cabs to Mr. Latimer's room. Mr. Latimer was a rich young gentleman, son of the famous brewer of that name, and he occupied the most elegant apartments. He was plain but well groomed, and very well dressed. Despite his origin he was a gentleman. Lord Hingley was nice looking, if rather stupid, and obviously rather too fond of drink. They were both scrupulously polite to us girls. We had a most admirable dinner, cooked and served in a style which would not have disgraced a smart west end restaurant, and we all of us drank rather too much champagne, to say nothing of subsequent liquors.

Still nothing happened, and the men made no attempt at love-making. The sisters obliged at the piano, so did I, and after I had done so, Lard Hingley contrived to get me alone in a corner.

“I say,” he stammered, “you're a lady, aren't you?”

“I'm certainly not a man.”

“But, don't joke; you aren't like the others how did you come to be living with Maud and Mabel?”

“Because they are my friends.”

The poor boy became very nervous, so I explained.

“I am a lady by birth, but who I am and how I came to be here, I don't care to have anybody know. If I told you my father's name, you would probably know,” that was a good bluff, considering the name was the same as my stage name-poor old Pop La Mare- “so don't ask.”

But he squeezed my hand; not as a man would squeeze the hand of a chorus girl tart, and I knew that he was in love, the first young man or title who had loved me. He likewise made an appointment for the following day, to meet at the Queen's Restaurant for lunch, subsequently a drive, and a hasty little dinner at his own rooms to follow-(he lived out of college).

I went down to the theatre on the following morning-the first time I had entered a theatre as a member of a theatrical company, and that early as I was, several of the girls were there before me, and the best places in the dressing room, which was to contain six of us girls, were taken.

There were the twin sisters Knock, Lily Legrand, a show lady of more of less mature age, but undeniable charm of figure, and little Bertha Vere, Restalal's mistress, who was not, however, allowed any special privileges in the company because of her relationship to the “Guvnor.” I had to hang my clothes up in the middle of the room, and do without a looking glass. My brand new make up box occasioned great joy among the other girls, who all appeared to have come with the tiniest remnants of the necessary powders and pigments.

My first day in Oxford, also my first day on tour was fairly uneventful. I went out to lunch with my lordling friend, but he treated me with extreme courtesy, to say nothing of a very good lunch. I found out afterwards that Oxford boys, while always delighted to get to know any actress on the road, yet expect little in return for their hospitality. My young man did not even attempt to kiss me, though we sat for a long time in his rooms after lunch-I think that he was even rather shocked that I smoked.

When I got back to my lodging I found the sisters Knock there, back also from a luncheon party. They had brought on my letters from the theatre. One of them was from the poet, and a distinctly improper nature. Its pretty indelicate imagery, and a most sensual drawing by an artist friend which was enclosed, brought so much moisture on my legs that I had to get upstairs and wash before I dared face the semi-public undressing of the theatre dressing room.

As the majority of the company had appeared in “The Drum Major” before, we had no dress rehearsal, and I had not even seen my costumes till I got to the theatre than night. “The Drum Major” was a tights play and all the girls in our room wore those fascinating garments. I was rather anxious to see how the legs of the other girls looked. Mine I knew, were all right, a little on the small side perhaps, but quite perfectly modelled. I could submit to the difficult task of inserting a three penny piece between my naked thighs when placed together, and keeping it there. I had also silk tights, a present from Mr. Annesley, who had informed me that the management considered cotton good enough for the chorus. He had found out the color of my dresses, and had these made for me.

The girls in the room displayed little delicacy. Maud undressed stark naked, and walked about the room rubbing herself down with a towel. Pier figure was good. Shapely legs, if perhaps a little too muscular to satisfy the artist who takes his ideal from the ancient Greek statues, but that was the fault of her dancing training. A firm, rather brownish skin, but without wrinkles, she wore no corsets, and round breasts with scarlet nipples. Her arms were also muscular, and she had the hair under her armpits shaved off, though a great abundance of dark luxurious curled round the lips of her cunt and blossomed up on to her stomach.

Lilly Legrand kept her vest on while putting on her tights, not omitting, however, to show the hair on the lower portion of her body, and the sexual organ underneath. Mabel Knocked stripped boldly to the buff, and displayed a figure which was almost an exact counterpart of her sister's, but she was more modest, and turned her back on us while she hurriedly slipped into her tights. Little Bertha, Restall's mistress, was far more discreet, and got into her leg attire under cover of other garments. The reason for that was, I afterward discovered, that she padded. I was also as modest as might be, and immediately aroused the suspicion of the eldest Knock girl that I had come to the theatre with my pads on, a common enough practice with some chorus girls who are ashamed of letting their companion tarts know that nature had not been altogether kind to them. She took me by surprise, and ran her hand all over my legs. “Genuine,” she pronounced, with a laugh, and Bertha looked envious.

I was one of the officers. It was a military play, and I had practically to open the show with five others, headed by our captain, a very dapper little lady who was the principal boy of the play. When I first walked on to the stage, I could hardly see for fear (luckily I was placed last). I felt practically naked and the music surged in my ears and it was only when I heard the other girls break into the surging melody of the song that I regained enough self-possession to join them. However, in half an hour I was all right, and got the brace of lines allotted to me off swimmingly.

The piece went well; Restall was in great form, and was ably backed up by his leading lady, a well known exponent of soubrette parts. In the third act he was at his very best, but I had an awkward moment when he selected me as the other half of an impromptu gag scene. To his great surprise, I answered him back and got a big laugh for myself. When the show was over, and he had taken numerous calls, he stopped me on the stage. “Clever little girl,” was the comment, “we'll do that again tomorrow. Come up to my room when your dressed, and we'll have a little drink and a little rehearsal.”

I was naturally elated, but the other girls laughed and more than hinted that I was wanted for something very different from a business chat.

However, he began in a business like manner enough, complimented me on the way I had made his gag go, and in his quiet, incisive, clever way, suggested the necessary outlines of the working up.

Then he asked me to sit down, gave me a whiskey and soda, and I noticed that his eye was devouring my charms with a hungry gleam. He began to let his conversation get rather frisky, and then boldly praised various portions of my body, my legs, my waist, and my breasts even. I finished my drink quickly and got up to go, but as I rose he followed me and clasped me in his arms before I had moved a step. I felt a passionate kiss on my throat, and his hand pressed roughly against the lower part of my stomach.

I protested and struggled for I had no wish to make myself cheap in his eyes by an easy surrender. However, nothing was of any avail. He did not prolong the struggle, but calmly locked the door and proceeded to talk the matter over.

His arguments were pretty matter of fact. He was altogether carried away by my beauty he said, and was mad to enjoy me. What harm was done, he argued, and he added that he could be a very good friend to me.

Of course, in the end I surrendered, and then came a very improper piece of business. Restall's costume necessitated skin tights, without any trunks, and, in case of any untoward swelling, he had his penis bound down to his stomach. So, when he had slipped off his tights, this curious arrangement met my astonished eyes-and he made me undo the wrapping till a fine stalwart member sprang from its bounds. I was surprised at its size, and condition, for Kestall was a man of over fifty who had lived every day of his life. His position had brought him into contact with thousands of girls who were only too ready to submit to overtures, and, if rumor was to be trusted, he had availed himself of every opportunity. Also he was a drunkard; I don't suppose he had gone to bed sober any night for the last twenty-five years.

When once we got to business I was randy enough. There was no sofa, and the floor looked rather dirty, so he had me straddle-wise across his knees, forcing me down on to him till I had his penis within me right up to its hairy hilt. He grabbed me frightfully tight to him and fucked me quite brutally, but there was something in his savagery which delighted me. When it was over he drained a tremendously stiff whiskey and soda and then sat back in the only big chair in the room. “Well, you'd better be back to your room,” he said after a minute, “the girl's will be suspicious.”

“I thought as much,” I answered rather angrily, “you've had all you want from me, and want to get rid of me.”

He became quite tender on the instant, and assured me that he meant nothing of the kind, only was nervous lest I should be suspected of over familiarity with him. In fact he became so tenderly solicitous that he took me in his arms and kissed me-became naughty again, and the dirty beast fucked me again.

Nothing much of great interest happened during our three day's stay at Oxford-we were only allowed half a week by the University authorities, in accordance with the wise regulation that more than three days of the society of any particular set of musical comedy sirens is bad for the peace of mind of the undergraduates. I went out to all meals, some with my lordling, and some with the friends of Miss Sarel, the leading lady, who had graciously deigned to take me up. She was a bright, pretty little thing, quite passably clever, of a naughty temperament, and very much on the make as the theatrical saying goes; she came out of Oxford with one or two valuable presents in the jewelry line.

I was always stared at in the street, but the stare was not the sensual glance of the man about town who feels his cock raised at the appearance of an attractive female, but the simple admiration of a healthy young mind. Not that everything of a sensual nature was absent from our little stay, to say nothing of that already recounted scene in Restall's dressing room, for I experienced the beginning of a love affair. One night the Sisters Knock brought home the tenor of the company to supper. Jean Messel was a strikingly handsome man, about thirty-five or so, I supposed, whose dark features betrayed a foreign origin. He had often eyed me at the theatre, but we had never spoken till this party. On this occasion, however, he found courage to press my hand, and, later, to snatch a kiss. That kiss set me on fire. I had known well enough before, the delights of a sensual feeling, but never a sensual feeling coupled with love. I dreamed of him all night, and the next morning when we met at the station, and exchanged some common-place greeting, I experienced the sensation known as blushing all over, and was almost too timid to speak I did not continue in lodgings with Sisters Knock. Some little unpleasantness over my intimacy with the young Lord had arisen, to say nothing of my obvious attraction for Jean Messel; so at our next stop, which was Manchester, I chummed with a Miss Letty Ross, who played the third principal part. Miss Ross had many acquaintances among the wealthy manufacturers of the north, fat, jolly, middle-aged men, with any amount of money, which they enjoyed spending, and a great deal of which found its way into the pockets of the pretty little tarts of the various wandering companies. They wanted very little for their money, and I was glad of it, for my passion for the tenor produced a longing in my heart to remain quite chaste. Still one cannot exactly accept a diamond bangle for nothing, and more than once little Blanche suffered herself to be extended on the sofa of a hotel private room, and her dainty clothes elevated till the exposure of her naked charms caused some great Lancashire cock to crow lustily with anticipation. How hard they fucked, those north country merchants, and what quantities of sperm they spent, but they enlarged hearts. At that time I grew very ^pent quantities of money, too, bless their frightened of getting in the family way; those lusty devils were just the sort of men to get me caught, and I could not help a reciprocal spend when they came. However, Letty gave me some pills to take before my courses became due, and I escaped.

At Edinburgh, we boldly went to one of the best hotels, trusting to our fortune to find a mug to settle our bills, and sure enough we did find one, in the guise of a well known whiskey distiller. He was staying in the same hotel and took on- the two of us, first Letty and then myself. I was not jealous, for it gave me a rest, and I was really sweet to him on my nights. He swore his cock had never, never felt such pleasure. He was nearly sixty, but he had never been sucked off, so I cleaned his cock up one night, and taught him that. He nearly went off his head with joy.

On the Saturday night after an uncommonly good supper, and too many liquors, the old man falteringly asked if we two would mind his coming to bed with both of us. He had done so well during the week that we had not the heart to say no. We arranged for him to come to our bedroom in half an hour, when we should be undressed, but our door was barely closed behind us when in he slipped blushing like a school boy detected in a fault, and begging that he might be allowed to undress us himself.

He went for me first; I was wearing a three quarter length frock that night, and the dear old gentleman got excited over it. I didn't raise a hand to help him myself, and he stripped me right to the buff. After he got out of my bodice, and the skirt, his frenzied cock was nearly bursting his trousers, and when he had got me down to my drawers and vest, the poor panting things had to be released. I gave it just one pat with my hand and the spend flew all over me, covering my body right up to my neck, some of it even struck me in the face. He was disconsolate, and Letty was angry, said it was unfair to start so soon. But Blanche was equal to the occasion. I sponged my face clean, did the same to his cock, told Letty to tongue his mouth, and we very soon had him stiff. Then he finished my undressing, till I sat in all my naked beauty on the bed before him. He was so randy again that he would have liked to fuck me again, then and there, but Letty naturally interfered. There was such a beautiful fire in the room that we both lay naked on the bed while our old friend tore off his clothes as if he was undressing for a swimming race against time. Funnily enough though I often slept with Letty, not till that moment had I the least physical desire for her, but the filthiness of the whole scene overpowered me. I rolled over on the top of her, feverishly fingered her pretty body and covered her lips with hot kisses which she returned in no half hearted spirit. In a trice I had a finger up her cunt, so that ingress was barred to the old man. Next moment, however he was up me from behind, his arms gripping both our bodies, and he came in me while my lips were glued to Letty's and all my lust was for her. Still he must have had a good fuck, for I was wriggling my stomach against hers like a fury. Even when he had finished I was filthily randy that I drew my finger, all covered with spend from Letty's cunt and made him lick it clean, an innovation in sin which he thoroughly enjoyed.

Subsequently he fucked Letty and myself once more and that finished him. He shambled back to his bedroom, while Letty and I, after a hot bath together had one delicious bout of mutual cunt sucking, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.

Next morning when the bill was presented, our old friend had something of a shock, but he could not, after the events of the previous night, make any complaint.

I fancy the one hundred and two whiskies and sodas worried him. Of course, we didn't give it away that we had had all our friends in during the day time, while he was at his business, and he thoroughly believed we had slipped all that intolerable deal of liquor down our own fairy throats. He paid us the compliment of remarking that there wasn't a bonnie lassie from Maidenkirk to John of Groats could have done the like.

All this time I barely had an opportunity of seeing my dark-eyed Jean Messel. His wife, who figured in the bills as Miss Henden, became suspicious and never let him out of her sight. She wasn't a bad little woman, and on the stage she looked very nice, but what a fake. To begin with, she wore lifters to give her an added inch in height. Then she wore low cut shoes displaying a nice curved pad where her instep should have been. When she went on the stage her legs were entirely encased in shapes, and even in ordinary walking dress, she sported hip pads. Her bust, well, one night I got wet coming to the theatre and wanted a change of stockings, every available stocking had that woman stuffed into her bodice. She even padded her arms, for she wore tightly fitting, transparent sleeves, and the flesh colored pads, that showed through, had the appearance of the most fascinating rounded arms. Her neck and shoulders she enameled. She wore yards of false hair, and what she had of her own was dyed. Her teeth, I need scarcely add, were removable at desire. Some of the girls used to question whether she had a false cunt or not.

One night Jean and I got a chance of a walk home from the theatre together, while she was at home ill. We came by a short cut through a mean street, lit only by an occasional lamp, and towered over my gaunt, stark walls. We were quite alone, for it was late and very dark, and the neighborhood had a dangerous reputation. There was no noise, save a faint flip flop of water and presently we came to a place where the rives was lazily licking a flight of stone steps. It was an eerie place, and I started nervously, brushing my shoulder against my companion. The next moment his arms were gripping me to him, and my lips had sought his. I was willing enough to have let him have me, there and then, but presently he pushed me from him.

“Little Darling,” he said, “next week my wife will not be with us. Shall we live in the same house?”

I said, “Yes,” with a kiss; and he saw me to my hotel door, and we parted.