He fell back in near stupor, lying supine for quite some time. He was sweaty and had slick places between his legs and in the hair of his chest. While he recuperated, Florentine washed him with lukewarm, scented water and dried him with warmed towels.
Finally they were able to get up, and sat down in the other room at a table which was laden with the choicest food. They both did great honor to their late supper.
“Do you know, my beauty, that you belong to those quiet waters that are so deep and dangerous?”
“Why?” the young woman asked innocently.
“Why? Because you, my dear masked lady, have taught me in one evening more than I could ever dream of, and I am afraid that from now on a simple coupling and the enjoyment of caressing beautiful legs is no longer enough for me. And that almost makes me feel sad!”
“Really? I don't understand…”
“Yes, you do! But… if you don't regret anything, then I can only be happy. Is there, however, any chance that we will ever do it… ah… the other way?”
“I do not want to give you a flat 'no' to that question, because that depends entirely upon the future. I do not want to sound egotistical, but the chances are slim. You see, this way there are very few consequences… for me.”
“I see,” Maxium said smilingly. “This way we will never have a chance to get a little heir, But tell me, my darling, if you want to continue seeing me, is there ever a chance that I will see you without your mask?”
“That is the one and only thing, Maxim, that you should not ask of me. I am afraid that we would never meet again.”
“I don't insist upon it, darling Evergreen, though I must admit that it is slightly embarrassing.”
“Only a little bit!”
“Oh, you little dictator. Your will be done.” And he bowed mockingly in her direction. “But tell me darling, who painted those voluptuous pictures in your little waiting room? And who was the sculptor? And who made those perfect etchings?”
“I have no idea. I told Felicitas what I wanted, and she saw to it that the room was decorated.”
“Felicitas, the Negro woman?”
“Yes.”
“I would love to own a similar collection.”
“Maybe she is willing to help you.” The answer was properly evasive.
“Oh, you suspicious creature. Are you afraid that I weald try and uncover your identity through the painter and sculptors? Be sure that one of these days it may happen. The Topinambours club is terribly upset that two of their members have had a secret rendezvous, and they have made up their minds that they are going to find out who the lady in question really is.”
“Two rendezvous? I assure you, Maxim, that I have never…”
“I know, darling, because the other one is as dark as you are blonde. And this daughter of the land of Spain calls herself Pomegranate Flower. That nickname would never do for you, darling. But you cannot deny that you don't know about whom I am talking. Poor Count de Paliseul is terribly unhappy. He has heard not a single word from his sphinx for days; he has almost stopped eating and drinking.”
“He does look a little bit depressed lately.”
“Do you know him?”
“I have seen him riding in the Bois de Boulogne now and then,” she evaded the question.
“The poor man. Can't you do anything for him? I am sure that his love must be a good friend of yours. Can't you put in a good word for him? Tell Lady Pomegranate Flower to have pity on him.”
“I am sorry, I cannot do that. But if I were him, I would forget about the entire episode.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because I happen to know that the affair is over, and that he did not live up to Pomegranate's expectations.”
“Does she have a waiting room like yours?”
“Not as far as I know. Moreover, it is not up to me to tell about her. I know that she would never talk about me. I am only doing your friend de Paliseul a favor, because neither you, nor he, nor your entire club will ever find out about our identities.”
“My dearest Evergreen, how about going to bed together for a good night's rest?”
“Oh, no, my friend. It is too late, and I would miss the last train.”
“What? You are leaving in the middle of the night?”
“Yes.”
“Do you live far away from Paris?”
“I live in Paris, in Rome, in Chicago, in Timbuktu. Darling, don't try to find out.”
“You are right, my love. I don't like it, but I am afraid that I have to live with it. When shall I see you again?”
“In about a week.”
“Oh, please, darling, can't you be more specific. I hate to share the fate of my poor friend de Paliseul.”
“You don't have to worry, and to prove it to you, expect a message for Thursday.”
“It's a date!” Thursday then!” Maxim kissed his lovely lady, Florentine pulled the bell cord and Felicitas promptly appeared. De Berny was now more than ever intent upon finding out his love's identity.
“Dear Miss Felicitas,” he said, pressing five gold pieces in her hand, “would you do me the favor of telling me where I can buy an album with etchings like the one I leafed through in Madame's little waiting room?”
“I am sorry, my lord, I can't,” Felicitas answered. “But I will be more than happy to get you one. And it is not necessary to pay me in advance. His Lordship is one of those gentlemen whose credit is good, and I am one of those servants who do not betray their mistresses.”
Maxim put the money which she handed him back in his purse, and he entered the equipage with Felicitas. After, it seemed, he had crisscrossed half of Paris, the coach stopped, he got out, and-much to his surprise — he was standing in front of the Club de Topinambours. The equipage was speeding away in the direction of the Champs Elysees.
Somebody tapped on his shoulder. It was de Paliseul and a priest.
“I see you had a date again?”
“Yes, I had a wonderful time.”
“Did you find out who she was?”
“No, and I don't think I will try!”
“I have told our fellow members that I will warn them as soon as I get my invitation. They will follow at a discreet distance, and then we will know who our paramours are.”
“I am afraid I have a sad message for you, my friend. It seems that your Pomegranate Flower was not pleased with your… ah… performance…” Maxim threw a glance in the direction of the priest.
“Excuse me,” de Paliseul said, “this is Father Lang from London. I was going to see to it that he could stay at my housekeeper's during his vacation in Paris. Unfortunately, she was indisposed. I have told him about our adventures. You do not have to keep secrets from him. And what do you mean, she was not pleased with my performance?” His face flushed red.
“I am sorry, my friend. I am merely a messenger, and I have been told by Lady Evergreen who is a very good friend of your lady love, to convey this message. It seems that the ladies know exactly what we are doing and what we are thinking. I have tried to unravel the secret and I have been unsuccessful. One thing, though-I am not going to endanger any future dates by prying into their secrets. After all, I have given my word of honor.”
De Paliseul was terribly upset. Maxim told him to go into the club and get good and drunk. He offered to take Father Lang to the home of his own housekeeper, the widow Lemaitre who, he was sure, would more than happy to have a boarder.
Father Lang was as pleased as de Paliseul was unhappy. He assured de Paliseul that he could fully understand the young man's feelings, thanked him for all the trouble he had gone through in his behalf, and he told Maxim that he was very grateful for helping a poor, stranded priest in the big city.
Maxim hailed a cab, and de Paliseul went poutingly into the Club de Topinambours. De Berny and Father Lang were soon on their way to the simple home of the widow Lemaitre.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Oh, your Reverence, it would be a great honor for me to have you as a guest in my humble home,” gushed the widow Lemaitre, after Maxim had posed the question. She fluttered her eyelashes, and produced a charming blush which would have done honor to a girl in her teens.