“At the club, dear, we got to chatting about Paris and Parisian life and present day manners and things like that-a bit frankly. Suddenly, he said, 'Do you happen to be free tomorrow evening, sir?' There was something odd about the way he said it, and he smiled in a peculiar way. So I replied, 'yes.' 'I don't suppose you're easily shocked?' he went on. I reassured him on that point, and he continued, 'In that case I can promise you won't be bored, and you'll have an opportunity for seeing for yourself that our English ways have progressed a good deal since the era of Queen Victoria.' We arranged to meet the next day, Marcia dearest, and he said to me, 'The party begins at nine. But I want you to have dinner with me first. You will, of course, be my guest for the whole evening. Over dinner I'll give you a few necessary explanations.' Then, Marcia, in a very pointed way, he added, 'Don't go wearing yourself out today. Go to bed early.' I was a little surprised at that, but I only asked if I should be dressed formally. He said I was only to suit myself, that I wouldn't be judged by what I wore. Next day we met at 7:30 in a fashionable West End restaurant. I'd taken his advice, my darling, and my curiosity as you can imagine was at a feverish pitch. He had taken a quiet table and began at once with his explanations, as he had promised.”
Marcia, lazily reclining against the loveseat's padded back, smiled encouragingly, lit another cigarette, and watched him, her eyes admiring the jut of his jaw, the fine distinction of his strong features. The sound of his voice, vibrant and masterful, especially delighted her, for she knew he could make that voice persuasively gentle, cajoling, and beguiling.
She was magnificently at ease in the negligee. One would never have said of this woman, so poised and assured, that she could be a bride of a few hours who was soon to know the ordeal of initiation into conjugal rights.
“Do go on, Max. It's very interesting already. You're a wonderfully realistic storyteller and remember, I had a course in physiology at school, so I'm not unacquainted with the facts of life. Only, I don't know how men regard them and talk about them. That's why I want you, my husband, who has every right over me, physiologically as well as psychologically, darling,” and her lips formed a tempting promise of delight, “to indoctrinate me.”
“Very well, my dearest, I'll hold nothing back, then. But-” he too now smiled meaningfully as he studied her beautiful face, so like a cameo, “but, I warn you-in giving my imagination free reign verbally, you may have to, later on, pay the penalty for over-exciting me, for you know very well that in your negligee you're already maddening enough.”
Now a lovely pink tint stained her cheeks, but her smile deepened as she retorted, “I expect to take the conditional consequences, Max. So go ahead.”
“Very well, then. With that warning delivered, I say no more. Now, then, back to my friend. 'Our society,' he told me, 'consists of three young couples, a young woman who's been divorced from her husband, and two bachelors. I am one of the latter. We are all people of some social status, not Bohemians as you might find in Soho.' I told him I was sure of that. He waved it aside with an impatient smile, and went on. 'One of the husbands has a title, actually. We meet once a week in a house belonging to one of these young couples, a very cozy, charming house, only a few yards from Mermn street. We spend the evening — not playing bridge, as might many of your countrymen at such a gathering-but celebrating a private little feast of gallantry. This is no very exceptional pastime among the bright young things, but what makes it all the more amusing with us is that we are careful to observe a strict code of rules.' Well, Marcia, you can imagine that by now this somewhat vague discussion and the suspense he'd created overnight for me, had impressed me greatly.”
“Indeed, yes, darling. I myself am impressed already. And what then?”
“All right, you minx, don't interrupt me or you'll make me self-conscious.”
“If I interrupt, my love,” she told him gravely, but with mocking delight in her lovely eyes, “it will be rather to make you conscious of, not yourself, but me!”
His eyes widened at the exquisite implication latent in those deep green eyes.
He took her hand and held it to his heart. Then he went on. “My friend then said, 'Yes, a strict code of rules. There are other places in London where proceedings are far more casual, where there's no fixed rule about who comes and who doesn't. Comparative strangers are made welcome, and it's by no means rare for the guests not to know what they are in for. It is hoped the drinks will get them into the right mood. These improvised meetings are sometimes quite successful. I'm not pretending, my dear Mr. Phillips, to set myself up as critic, but with us, you see, the observance of certain regular rules and the fact that the participants are always the same, serve to create a greater sense of intimacy and a far more heady atmosphere. So, at least, I can't help feeling. But there is one thing that especially concerns the two bachelors. The basis of our meetings being that the guests must come in pairs, the two bachelors, of which, as I told you already, I am one, have to undertake to provide two young women. Our young divorcee, when she's there-for she travels a great deal- counts as one of these. One more, then, must be provided by hook or by crook. Sometimes I myself undertake the responsibility, sometimes my colleague does, just as convenience dictates. The young divorcee is paired off with either of us, according to circumstance and ad libbing. When she's away, each of us has to find a substitute. I always add that such substitutes are usually chosen from among four or five girls who are quite well known to all of us and are well aware of what's in the wind and do not require asking twice, even on short notice. We keep clear of outsiders. So far, so good-nothing very complicated about that, is there?' I agreed with him.
“He went on, Marcia, as follows, 'But there is nothing improvised when it comes to our actual meetings. A game without rules has no excitement, don't you think? It's a sort of much ado about nothing. We have a number of systems, each with its own peculiar charms and on these we ring the changes, Mr. Phillips. Tonight, for example, we follow one of the simplest of the lot. As we go in, you'll see a small table by the door, and on it two wooden bowls, each containing numbers 1–5. Each member on arrival draws a number. The men from the bowl on the left, the women from the bowl on the right. The lady and gentleman holding the same number, during the course of the evening, will be expected to have a private interview of very sentimental nature.' ”
Marcia's eyes were very bright, and her superb breasts swelled voluminously. She had taken Max's hand and was holding it ardently, her eyes never leaving his.
He took a puff of his cigarette and resumed: “My friend smiled and added, 'Not at once however. The first hour of our meetings is devoted to drinks and conversation, to set the scene, as it were, to establish a mood of perfect trust, friendship and intimacy. Not until the master of ceremonies gives the word-and a different person performs this function at each meeting-do the guests look at their numbers. I should have said, by the way, that one is not supposed to know what number is his until the proper moment arrives, and till then each one is completely in the dark. It is a set rule that each person, when the draw is made, shall put the number into his pocket or her handbag without so much as glancing at it. It makes it much more thrilling to wonder for a whole hour which of these ladies present is to fall to one's lot. The ladies especially have a very charming way of looking around the room with ill-disguised curiosity.'