“I imagine they’ll be very interesting,” Ethel said aloud.
The Harlequin smiled as she heard the words. “My Columbine!” she exclaimed. She stepped close to Ethel and peered into her face. “I’ve been seeking you,” she proclaimed.
“Zounds and bloody fish hooks!” The pirate said as she seized Barbara’s arm. “A demure Quaker maid! Shall I take you captive?” She bowed low before her. “Before some nasty man beats me to it?” she added in a lower voice.
Barbara turned helplessly to Ethel and met her challenging smile. “Harlequin says they have a quiet apartment near,” Ethel told her. “Shall we get out of the crowd and rest a little?”
“With exotic wines to fire your pulse,” the pirate whispered to Barbara as she hesitated. “Or must I capture you and hold you against the world?” Her fingers tightened gently on Barbara’s arm.
“We’ll go if you like,” Ethel said eagerly to Barbara. “After all, we have a couple of hours to kill before our appointment... and I could stand to rest my feet a little.”
“So could I,” Barbara told her truthfully.
“Let’s go then.” Ethel smiled understandingly at the Harlequin and took her arm.
Barbara and the pirate followed them a few blocks down Rampart to the entrance of a modest apartment building. There was a stuffy lobby and a curving flight of stairs.
The pirate continued to squeeze Barbara’s arm and remain silent as they mounted the stairs behind Ethel and the Harlequin who kept up a low-toned conversation.
The Harlequin opened a door with a latchkey, and they were ushered into a cool and comfortable apartment.
The pirate released Barbara’s arm and patted her shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable, you adorable thing,” she breathed. “I’ll help Johnny get the wine.”
Barbara sank into a leather chair as the hostesses disappeared into another room. Ethel dropped to a couch and sighed with relief. She smiled obliquely at Barbara. “Mark it down to experience,” she said softly, to her unspoken question.
The Harlequin returned with a decanter of wine then, and Ethel had no opportunity to explain her cryptic remark.
“Frankie is taking off her mask and sash,” she said to Barbara. “Don’t be impatient... she’s wild about you.”
She set the decanter down and poured four glasses of wine while Barbara tried, vainly, to understand her words. On the surface it was merely a happily informal acquaintanceship formed under the laxity of the Mardi Gras spirit.
But she sensed a deeper mystery about the two girls. An indefinable something which seemed to set them apart from anyone she had ever known before. There was something more than a gay comradeship in their actions and speech.
She sipped her wine thoughtfully as she sought to analyze a queer emotion which gripped her. In one sense it was fear... though it really wasn’t fear. An emotion which tingled through her body and set her nerves on fire.
Johnny sat on the couch with Ethel. She had thrown aside her mask and her features were coarser than Barbara had expected them to be.
Then the pirate returned and drew a chair up close to hers. So close that their knees touched as she sat down with a glass of wine. Her mask had hidden high cheek bones and long eyelashes. Her lips were very full and a little smile lurked about them as she leaned forward.
“Take off your mask, honey,” she said softly. “I’ll bet the rest of your face is just as sweet as the sample I can see.”
“It’s tied at the back,” Barbara told her simply.
“Drink the rest of your wine, and I’ll untie it.”
Barbara drank the remainder of the wine and leaned her head forward.
The other’s fingers fumbled at the back of her head. “My name’s Frankie,” a husky voice said in her ear. The mask slipped loose and she felt Frankie’s full lips brush over her hair. “You’re adorable,” the husky voice said.
Barbara avoided looking at her. “The wine was very nice,” she said sedately.
“Let me get you some more.” Frankie arose quickly and refilled her glass. Barbara drank half of it before taking it from her lips. It was heavy and sweet. Slow fire seemed to creep through her veins as she lowered the glass.
She stole a glance at Ethel and was surprised to see that she and Johnny were sitting very close together on the couch. Their arms were thrown familiarly about each other’s shoulders, and they talked in low tones with snatches of covert laughter.
She blinked her eyes uncertainly as she watched them. Things were getting a bit hazy, and she wasn’t sure she was seeing everything as it was.
She drank the rest of the wine and smiled vaguely at Frankie. The erstwhile pirate was leaning forward eagerly, her black eyes shining with slumbrous passion.
“You... have an awfully nice place here,” Barbara essayed haltingly. She had never tasted wine before, and this second glass had made her voice sound thick.
“Do you like it?” Frankie asked eagerly. “Let me show you the rest of it.” Her eyes studied Barbara calculatingly as she arose to pour her a third glass of wine.
“I... I don’t think I should drink any more,” Barbara protested weakly. She stood up and swayed, holding tightly to the back of the chair. “I... I feel sort of funny now,” she confessed.
“Go ahead and drink it.” Frankie’s firm arm was comfortingly about her waist as she proffered the drink.
“Sure. Go ahead.” Ethel’s laughing voice came from the couch. “Suppose you do get a little tight? What’s the harm? Frankie and Johnny are perfect ladies.” She giggled and Johnny joined in with a deeper note of mirth.
“All right,” Barbara said recklessly. She drank the third glass of wine and dropped the empty goblet to the floor. “I... I want to drink of life... like that,” she said fiercely. “Drain its sweetness and fling the husk away!” Her voice rose shakily. It sounded like a very good speech.
“Atagirl,” Ethel applauded. “Don’t let ’em get you down, Babs.” She laughed uproariously at her own wit.
Frankie smiled at Barbara with genuine warmth. “Let me show you the rest of our apartment,” she urged. Her arm tightened tentatively about Barbara’s waist.
“All right. But don’t hold me so tight,” Barbara said querulously. “I’m all right. I can stan’ up.” She tugged at Frankie’s arm and pulled it from her waist.
Frankie smiled and caught her elbow as she staggered and almost fell. “Come on,” she said huskily, leading her from the room.
“This is the bedroom,” she said slowly. Barbara gazed wonderingly as the room seemed to swing about in circles. Her wavering gaze fell upon a huge bed and remained fixed there. She moved toward it uncertainly.
“Wanta lie down,” she muttered.
“Sure. Just relax and rest a little.” Frankie’s voice was low and persuasive. She helped Barbara reach the bed. “Just lie down,” she said tenderly. “You can stay here as long as you want to.”
Barbara relaxed gratefully on the bed. The wine seemed to have left her body in a state of suspended animation. Her limbs seemed disjointed... not a part of her at all. She closed her eyes as Frankie leaned over her.
“You sweet kid. You’re so darned cute in that costume I don’t see how I can keep my hands off you.” Frankie’s voice was hoarse. She leaned down to let her lips caress the base of Barbara’s neck.
Barbara moved restlessly and pushed Frankie’s face away. She wondered, feebly, what sort of game this was. She was vaguely irritated by Frankie’s sentimentality.
“Go ’way,” she muttered. “I don’t know you very well.”
“Don’t push me away, honey. You’ll break my heart,” Frankie breathed passionately.