CHAPTER 14

IT TAKES A WOMAN TO CATCH A WOMAN

—1—

One day Ben was singing and an intellectual sort of chap in the next room piped up to tell him that his voice sounded “like two skeletons dancing on a tin roof and a pregnant bullfrog singing jazz.”

I was reminded of this the next night when I got home and found him there. He wasn’t singing, yet; he was just dying to explode about his adventure of the day.

“I been out with the sweetest little woman ya ever saw! An’ she talks English!” he declared enthusiastically.

“No lovin’ party to-night?” I inquired.

“Sure!” he exclaimed as if I had insulted him. “I’m tellin’ ya: this captain knew all the tricks an’ she didn’t skip any on my account! Boy, that captain made me forget home, mother, religion and all the wars that ever was fought! Why, Leony, that captain....”

“Hey! Hey! Just a minute!” I cried. “What were you telling me about staying clear of men like that?”

“Huh?”

“What’s this captain stuff. How the devil could you have a lovin’ party with a captain?... You’re drunk!”

“The hell I am!... I was in bed with the prettiest little captain you ever saw, not more’n two hours ago! Whatta ya think o’ that?”

“I think you’re drunk!” And he was slightly so.

“It’s a fact,” he insisted.

I had to laugh. The big blister preaching sermons to me about letting ladybirds get fresh and then he turns around and boasts about being in bed with a captain!

“I met her in a gin mill,” he continued, after a moment, “an’ she looked at me an’ gave me just one look—that was all this baby needed. I had her number pronto and in fifteen minutes’ time and three drinks we was on our way to heaven! She told me she came from Salisbury and I says I hail from New York—and she said she liked big men—and, well, I did the rest.”

“She?” I stopped in my undressing long enough to ask. “Where do you get that ‘she’ stuff? I thought your playmate was a captain.”

“She is!” he insisted. “She’s a captain in the Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps, and she comes from Salisbury—wherever the hell that is—somewhere in England.”

The light fell upon me and I exclaimed, “Oh—she’s a W.A.A.C. captain?”

“Say!” he bawls out. “What’d ya think I mean—an artillery captain? Ya dumb little runt!”

But I laughed at him. The idea of a buck private making love to a captain just struck me funny. He didn’t mind, though, and the first thing I knew he was launching into song—and what a song! Except for the first verse, it was the dirtiest, rottenest thing I’d heard yet. It was so bad I couldn’t even think it in shorthand!

“Where in the name of God did you pick that up?” I inquired between about the fifth and sixth verses.

“Captain taught me,” he replied glibly. “That’s called The Salisbury Maiden, an’ it’s a damned fine song, if I do say so myself.”

I let him finish it, but managed to get him undressed enough to roll into bed by the time he had ended that rotten ballad: and it was a wonder to me the man next door didn’t pipe up with another wise crack about my partner’s voice. When he sang, your stomach turned over and your heart played leap frog with your throat and you saw little purple stars in the pink firmament about you. The two skeletons and the pregnant frog didn’t begin to parallel the noise Ben made when he felt the lyric urge.

He picked up a couple of other dirty ditties that I refused to have anything to do with. One of them was that Cafusalem—The Harlot of Jerusalem: he said he learned it from an Australian in a house of ill fame. The other was a Limey marching song that starts off “Eyes right! Legs up tight!” My shorthand won’t stand those, either.

—2—

Ben’s singing occurred after my return from a large evening at Madame Gedouin’s, with whom I had made slight progress: Ada was beginning to act interested. She said I was such a nice boy and so attentive and gallant to her that she really would have to be nice to me and see that I had a good time.

I was not sure what she meant but she was the kind of a woman who means about umpsteen times what she says: I mean that the things she said always suggested a lot more: she didn’t denote an awful lot in her speech, but she sure did connote a mouthful.

Next day I was going shopping with her. But before I met her, I decided to play safe and buy myself a couple of cast-iron brassières: made out of canvas or flannel or something. I was glad I had sort of a boyish figure and was kinda flat chested. It’d be rather funny for a wild woman to start going over you and bump into anything like that.... I heard two soldiers talking about some kind of a contrivance that was used by women perverts. Now a woman like that wouldn’t feel worried at all in my predicament. However, I preferred to be myself. Nothing like that for me!

Ben was talking in his sleep. He was courting that captain again. I wished he were going into the lioness’ den instead of me.

—3—

Well, I went shopping in the afternoon with Madame Ada Gedouin, and I must say that that woman knew how to spend money. She didn’t curb her tastes and fancies at all, and unless she got darned big checks from New York, the Captain was right.... She was a gay companion, though. Men turned around to look at her and I’ll bet more than one of them envied me. And me nothing but a poor enlisted man! Why, it was almost a crime for a gink like me to promenade down the boulevards with a woman that was as pretty and richly dressed as the Madame! I wanted to run every time we passed an M.P.

Apparently business went on here in spite of the war. It was only at night that you could see the difference, for then there were no lights and the houses were all boarded up and shuttered to prevent any light from escaping. In the daytime the shops were open and doing a lively business, too, with all those Americans there ready and willing to buy this and that to send home to the “little woman.”

This afternoon, after we finished our tour of the stores, I felt it my duty to take my companion somewhere to eat and when I suggested it, she admitted that she was about famished. “You’re a dear sweet boy,” she told me. “And I’ll let you take me to Cuvier’s.”

Not knowing where this guy Cuvier tended bar, I had to ask for directions, which she gave, with that silvery little laugh, much as if I were some child whose innocence and ignorance were in inverse proportion to its age.

Well, Cuvier’s proved to be something more or less special, but the major-domo, or whatever he was, very quickly found a secluded table for us and I extended myself in trying to please milady’s palate. And everything I’d do or say, she’d come out with that “dear sweet boy” stuff and I felt like two cents. Enough of anything like that is too much to begin with.

Before the repast was finished we had consumed several shallow glasses of very stimulating wine, and the Madame had reached the point where she punctuated her flatteries by caresses and chummy little pats and finger kisses. If I hadn’t had the wine, I’d have felt uncomfortable.

Anyway, as we were coming out of the place, I spied a familiar figure about ten yards away and promptly had shivers of apprehension—for the sight of Jay-Jay didn’t make me feel very calm, even after the other night.

At just that moment the Madame breathed another one of those little ecstasies and gave my cheek not only a pat but also a very sweet kiss.... The shock was so great that I had all I could do to keep from stumbling. I managed somehow to bear up—even clutched her hand more tightly and stamped a vigorous kiss upon it by way of my other hand. Then I looked up, as if I had not seen Jay-Jay before—and the son-of-a-gun was right in our way, cap off, as if he expected me to stop and introduce him to this stunning creature. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so damned nervy about it, I might have taken the trouble, but I didn’t. I just saluted sharply and said “Hello, Lieutenant.” The Madame favored him with a disdainful glance and we marched past him and into a cab, from the depths of which I peeked out to see him still standing stupidly in the middle of the pavement, looking as if he expected the world to fall on him in just a minute.

He apparently didn’t know whether he was going or coming!... Now, if Leon would just keep himself out of sight, perhaps I’d have peace for a while.

Back at Madame’s apartment, she busied herself about the place, telling the maid to do this and that and about a million other things, while I just plumped myself down and almost went to sleep.

About eight o’clock a frock-coated Frenchman with a kaiserish mustache and a two-point beard dropped in, and I was introduced to him. He was some kind of minister or other in the French government. He spoke to me in English and I answered in my own language. The Madame brought in some champagne and Whiskers had several. They began to chatter away in French, only now and then turning a few commonplace remarks in English upon me.

Since they didn’t expect me to understand or talk French, I just kept quiet and listened. As far as I could make out, they didn’t really have much to say to each other: they just talked a hell of a lot, but in the end it seemed to be agreed that the Madame would be delighted to meet him somewhere in Fontainebleau at eleven. I didn’t know whether she meant eleven that night or next day, but I decided to stick around as long as she let me.

The Frenchman finally left and she returned to me. “O—I am so tired!” she exclaimed, arranging the pillows on the divan and motioning to me to come over. “Shopping invariably wears me to a frazzle.... Now, you sit right there like a nice boy and let your grandmother lie across your lap ... like this.”

Which was a very nice position—at least, it must have been comfortable for her, with a whole stack of pillows under her head. She closed her eyes and threw her arm over my shoulder.... Then she began to play her fingers about the back of my neck and in my hair.... I thought turn about ought to be fair play, so I tickled her neck and ran my fingers lightly up and down her spine—or at least, where her spine ought to be.... She surely was a marvelously constructed piece of anatomy!

Now and then she crooned some damned fool thing to me.... I rubbed her temples.... She kissed the palms of my hands and called me a “little jewel.”

After a while she began asking questions, in a sort of lazy, unconcerned manner, about my work, about General Backett, my sister, Captain Winstead....

“You rather like the Captain, n’est-ce pas?” I said.

“I think he is too dear to be true,” she said, and it sounded very genuine to me. “He is very charming, and very clever.... Your sister never need envy anyone else.”

“I think he’s a peach of a fellow,” I said, trying to sound sort of fraternal about it. “He’s been very good to me since I came to Paris ... and I certainly owe him something for introducing me to you and your circle of jolly friends.”

“Oh—you dear kid.” And she laid herself snugly against me, then pulled my face down to be kissed. “You’re the most comfortable and attentive thing to have about.... Do come often and stay late.”

... Yet, somehow or other she succeeded in separating me from that divan a half hour before eleven!

I found myself at home, waiting for Ben to come—probably with all sheets in the wind.

—4—

Saw my Captain next day at noon and told him about the Frenchman. He knew about him already. “She’s been playing around with him for several weeks,” he told me. “However, keep your eyes open—you may hear her pass on some remark that old Poiquerre makes.”

So I called up the Madame that evening and asked if she minded my dropping in. “The Captain is still busy and I’m at a loss to know what to do with myself.”

“Didn’t I tell you to come any time and stay late,” she replied laughingly. “Do come over—by all means, you charming baby.”

I hung up without much respect for the telephone. All this sweet flattery and cooing condescension wasn’t getting me anywhere.... But I went over and there was a little crowd there, dancing and talking about everything from military tactics to the Legion of Honor and funerals.

I found myself paired off with a little blond girl by the name of Germaine. She was jolly and talkative and not quite so beaucoup pashe as most of Madame’s friends. We had a pleasant time of it, and she complimented me upon my dancing and even went so far as to tell Madame she “really should dance with him. He’s marvelous, Ada!”

So Ada and I danced—very nicely, too, and afterwards she pressed my arm and told me it was “divine!—I’m afraid the captain was right in what he said about ‘these quiet little devils.’... Some woman will love you to shreds if you aren’t careful.” And she laughed that enchanting silvery chuckle that I’d been simply fascinated by time and again.

When the party broke up, I contrived to hang around for a little while. She came back to me tucking a piece of paper into her bosom with a laughing deprecation anent “these lovesick boys who insist upon writing what they fear to say!” But I had my doubts about the contents of that note, although my doubts arose from no actual reasons except suspicion.

I made a list of all the people who were there that night to show to the Captain. I had decided to keep my eyes open whenever any one of them was present again.

Next day the Captain would be back on duty by special invitation. Madame Gedouin was taking a party down in the country for bathing.

Which got a laugh out of one little lady. We couldn’t use the old familiar excuse this time—but it’d take more than a team of horses and a couple of tanks to get this chicken into any bathing suit! What a farce that would be!... I hoped the Captain didn’t begin entertaining any funny ideas—but this was one case where it couldn’t be helped. As Ben would say, “Here’s one poor fish that don’t like the water.”

—5—

If the Captain hadn’t been so insistent, I would have found some excuse for staying away from that bathing party, but he refused to listen to any excuses and kept repeating his demand that I do everything possible to pick up the information that was so desired. So I went.

I dropped into the Madame’s and had lunch with her before the other members of the party arrived. While she was getting ready to depart I wandered around the apartment, ostensibly surveying the many trick decorations and objets d’art, but actually studying every wall and floor for possible evidences of something secret or suspicious. But there was nothing of the kind and I finally accepted her invitation to come into her boudoir, where her maid was helping her put the finishing touches to her toilette.... I began to suspect that the Madame was trying to torment or tempt me, and there was a bare possibility that my reluctance to make any real kind of love to her had aroused her interest. Sometimes it must be true that lack of evidence of desire engenders desire: I mean if a woman thinks a man doesn’t want her, very often she will go out of her way to make him want her.... At least, so I gathered from personal experiences that I had heard.

Anyway, I sat there beside her dressing table and watched the dressing proceed, the while she chattered gayly about this and that and every other thing of little or much importance.... Finally, before she had quite finished, the first of the visitors arrived and I adjourned to the reception room, where I found my friend Germaine and a bespectacled American major who very apparently didn’t relish the idea of being introduced to an enlisted man.... Then Captain Winstead breezed in and smoothed the air a little by his friendliness to me.... In the space of fifteen minutes the entire party was assembled, ten in all, and we set off for the country in two cars, one an American service car and the other of French make and belonging to one of the ladies.

Madame Gedouin promised that we should see a most charming place and that we all would have a delightful evening, and I had to admit that I was glad I came, because this country estate, about twenty-five miles from the center of the city, was really the most comfortable and inviting place I’d seen in France. The Madame told us about its owner, an official in the French government.... If it hadn’t been for the prospect of the bathing, I should have enjoyed myself immensely.

As soon as we had been served with refreshments, the Madame suggested that everyone find a place to change clothes. “And let’s be off while the sun shines.”

“Everyone going in?” I asked.

“All but Marie,” she replied. “She’s too French. I think that swimming is more appreciated by Americans than by any other race the world over. Every healthy American loves swimming.”

“Here’s one that don’t,” I told her.

“You little prevaricator!” she exclaimed. “Run right along and slip into your suit.”

“I didn’t bring one,” I confessed.

“You didn’t?” She sounded as if she really felt bad about it. “Well, we’ll see if we can’t find one that will fit you. You’re so petit, I imagine you could wear a girl’s suit.”

“Absolutely not!” I declared. “My mother didn’t raise me to be laughed at.”

“Why, you dear sweet kid,” she laughed, “I have to laugh at you all the time: you’re so terribly unique!”

“Virtue in all things,” I told her, smiling. “But swimming isn’t one of my points of virtue—I regret to say. I never liked the water and I was actually uneasy on the trip coming over, because I really can’t swim a stroke.”

“I’d love to teach you—I think that would be just loads of fun.... And it isn’t every man I’d bother that much about, you know.”

I laughed and let her kiss me, but remained firm in my stand. “You chase along and have your fun,” I insisted. “I’ll toddle about and feast my eyes upon the sights.”

She finally gave up trying and flew upstairs to change. But I had no sooner ducked her than the Captain appeared and I had to go through it all again.

“Mrs. Gedouin might not like it if you don’t go in after coming on the party,” he argued.

“Can’t help that,” I replied. “I’ve explained it to her and I don’t think she minds terribly.... Anyway, if Marie can do her swimming on the bank, I guess I can, too.”

“Well—of course—a woman might have a legitimate excuse, you know.”

I laughed at that and told him, “I haven’t any excuse like that, but I’ve got one that’s just as good: I just don’t swim, that’s all!... Don’t worry about me—I’ll square myself with the Madame.”

“Oh—it’s not a matter of life and death,” he reassured me laughingly. “Just seems sort of odd for a healthy little devil like you to hate the water.”

“I guess so,” I agreed smilingly. “But then the Madame says that’s what she likes about me: I’m so ‘terribly unique’!”

“Cut yourself a piece of cake!” he retorted cheerfully and emphasized his jolliness by slapping me on the back with such force that I coughed and spluttered and almost fell over.... I watched him depart: he was handsome, even in a bathing suit. My God, wasn’t there anything wrong with that man? No man could be as perfect as he seemed to be—and if he could, he surely wouldn’t fall in love with a little insignificant thing like me. Maybe that was the flaw—if he were perfect, he wouldn’t do it. Also maybe he hadn’t done it. Maybe I was kidding myself.

When the party went down over the hill to the pool, I wandered along and dropped easily into a conversation with the other noncombatant, Marie. We didn’t have much to say to each other, but we managed to pass the time in comments upon the dexterity of this one or the diving of that, and an interesting discussion of the surroundings which ended in Marie’s informing me that it had cost M. Dagnier a pretty fortune to keep this estate intact during the war, because there were so many purposes to which it could be turned due to its nearness to Paris and its many other obvious advantages.

It was at this point that someone asked me for a cigarette and I discovered that I had left mine in my tunic, in the house. “But I’ll go get them,” I offered.

“Oh—don’t bother,” said the young lady. “Ada has gone to the house and doubtless she will bring some back with her.”

Nevertheless, I went to get my own and when I had gone but a few steps the Captain called out, “I don’t like your cheap cigarettes, Canwick. Bring down the pack that’s in my pocket, will you?”

I proceeded to the house and entered as quietly as possible, found my blouse and extracted my cigarettes, then continued upstairs to get the Captain’s. I had no idea which room he had used and while I stood silently debating with myself at the top of the stairs, I became conscious of a very rapid and strange dialogue going on somewhere near at hand. My ears caught words that were unmistakably German and I distinguished one of the voices by its silvery tinkle. I tried to place the sounds, but could not and, fearing to make a noise if I tried to get nearer, I satisfied myself by attempting to catch the content of their conversation. I caught such words as “papers,” “numbers,” “army corps,” “aviation” and “money,” but the rest was an indistinguishable blur of sounds. Then I heard what sounded like someone moving and I ducked quickly into the first door I came to.

I held my breath and listened again. The voices were even plainer here and I guessed that they must be in the very next room to the one I was in. I heard the Madame tell her companion that “the money will be safe in the apartment” and then something about “a chaplain on Tuesday.”

Their voices became inaudible then. A motor started up somewhere outside and I decided that the best thing I could do was take advantage of the noise to make my exit. I got downstairs and out of the house without anyone seeing me, and when I appeared again at Marie’s side, with a cigarette hanging from the corner of my mouth, the Captain piped up to ask if I had brought his smokes.

“How the devil did I know where your clothes were!” I retorted. “You’ll have to get along with one of my cheap fags.”

He came up to get one and, although he continued the joke of bawling me out, I knew that he understood the slight wink that I gave him. He lit his cigarette from mine and observed to Marie, “Don’t ever have anything to do with these enlisted men, Mam’selle.... If this fellow didn’t have a perfectly marvelous sister I wouldn’t even smoke one of his cigarettes.” With which he returned to his place near the diving board to continue his engaging chatter with the others, and a moment later the Madame reappeared, with cigarettes, matches, and a huge cocktail shaker, the top of which contained four small cups which were promptly appropriated. “I thought something like this would help the gayety of nations,” she remarked cheerily, as the Captain took the shaker and began a Pipes-of-Pan dance with it.

When he came back to her, he observed lightly, “The perfect hostess always does the right thing at the right moment!... If this continues, I shall fall under the spell and propose to you myself!”

“Ou la la!” cried the Madame. “After all these years of yearning, I am to be rewarded?” She laughed with him as she filled his cup.

“May I never feel worse!” offered the Captain, raising the cup to his lips.

“Which might mean either of two very different things,” laughed his companion. “Don’t commit yourself, even in jest.”

“But I do!” he insisted. “I mean that if I never feel worse than I do now, I shall have an exceedingly happy life.”

The Madame turned to me to say, “You see what you are coming to, my young gallant?”

I forced a smile and replied that “after all, he does intrigue you.... I’m willing to come to that myself.”

She glanced questioningly at me, as if she could not decide whether I was jealous of the Captain or just indulging in a flirtatious remark for her benefit. She dropped a hand upon my head and rumpled my hair as she said, with a light little laugh, “You need not envy him in that respect, mon enfant.”

“Encore?” inquired the Captain, holding out the cup again and remarking further, as she filled it, “I might have known he would succumb to your enchantments, Circe.”

“The truth has eluded you again, my dear Captain,” she replied. “The pleasure of succumbing seems to be all mine.”

“So?” exclaimed my friend in mock surprise. “Well, I will confess, Madame: I warned him to beware—and besides he is naturally bashful.... Why, do you know, Madame, they had to tie his grandfather in bed on his wedding night!... You see, it is inherent.”

“You sinner!” the Madame called after his departing laughter.

“It’s nice to hear yourself so frankly dissected,” I observed, when she turned her attention again to me and my hair.

“Mon enfant,” she said, leaning over to place a kiss in my ear, and handing me the cocktail shaker, “hold this while grandma takes one more dip, then she’ll find something more interesting for you to hold.”... Another tinkling laugh and away she went, leaving me to pour out a drink for Marie, and a moment later several for the Major and Germaine.

The Madame didn’t stay in very long and when she came back, dripping and shivering, she took my hand and said, “Come along, little one... We must find something for your idle hands to do.”

“The devil’s supposed to do that,” I said, but I arose and followed her to the house, where she led the way upstairs and into the very room whence I had heard the conversation in German.

“Just one more minute and I’ll be with you,” she told me as she took a towel and a kimono and stepped into a dressing closet.... And she wasn’t gone more than a minute, either. I don’t see how she could remove her bathing suit and dry herself in such a short time. However, there she was—and no bones about it. She gave me a fervent kiss in passing and then asked me to hand her the chemise which lay on the chair beside me. She put it on, without getting up from the seat on which she had settled. “Now that long affair, please, baby,” she went on, and I passed her the brassière. “You might assist me, honey,” she suggested; so I went over and hooked the brassière—but when that was done she threw her arms up and around my neck and pulled my head over her shoulder so she could kiss me.... I began to get a different view of things right then, for that one embrace was so mad, so fervent, that I understood immediately that she meant business.... I felt rather panicky, but I stubbornly stuck it out, and when she released me, I offered to help with her hose and shoes.... Between the operations there had to be a certain amount of caresses, but I managed to keep busy, even going so far as to help with her hair, for which I was rewarded by a terrific kiss and the following testimony as to my character: “You’re the dearest, sweetest, darlingest man I’ve ever known!”

“Rather a large order,” I reminded her.

“But you are, honey!” She busied her gaze with the mirror as she continued, “You see, I get so sick of being nice to old men and middle-aged men and men who have lost all the touches of youth!... Sometimes I feel as if I had never had any youth myself ... as if I had always been grown-up and in the company of grown-ups.... You can understand, can’t you? You understand everything, I believe.”

“The Captain isn’t an old man,” I observed maliciously.

“Captain Winstead?” she exclaimed with a laugh. “No—he’s not so old, but loving him would be just like loving a matinée idol. He’s clever, dashing, fascinating, everything desirable—and that’s just why I am not interested in him. You can’t trust a man who is too perfect.... But, you are just ideal, you darling boy!... And you’ve been so nice, so attentive, so deferential and considerate ... well, it’s a relief, to say the least.”

It seemed to me that her ardor had cooled. Perhaps she thought she had said too much. At any rate, the dressing was finished without any amorous threats that I could fear, and by the time the others began drifting in from the pool, we were ready to appear below. She was putting the finishing touches on her face when the sounds of their coming reached us, and she hurriedly completed the task while I jumped to obey her “Find me a cigarette, like a good boy.”

Well, that was just the beginning of an interesting evening. Madame was, I guessed, a special friend of this M. Dagnier, for she seemed to have carte blanche possession of the place. There were only two servants in the house, and only one of these was a house servant, but we had a very complete dinner, minus the service. And M. Dagnier’s wine cellar certainly suffered from the repeated assaults made upon it.... Altogether it was a very jolly time and everyone enjoyed it to the extent of their capacity.

Off and on during the evening, I found myself alone with the hostess and I did my duty—in so far as it was possible to do it. I suppose she wondered why I made no serious advances to her: I’m sure she thought I was infatuated, and the combination of the two things had obviously aroused her interest, for she made no bones about liking me.... It seemed awfully funny. Now and then I felt like some kind of an unworthy thing: I mean, she really was so nice, so generous and so utterly sincere to me, that it didn’t seem honest or right for me to deceive her this way. I think she was telling the truth when she said I was a tremendous relief from the men she had had to play with. But she was an enemy and her operations might be taking the lives of countless thousands of American boys and men, so, of course, when I remembered this point, I had no compunction about deceiving her.

We got back to Paris about midnight. Everyone was feeling happy and I expected the Madame to invite them all in for a few good night drinks, but she didn’t.... I was dropped at the barracks door, without having had a chance to report my discovery to the Captain.

—6—

Captain Winstead sent an orderly over in the morning to tell me that he would meet me at one o’clock and take me out to see General Backett, so I told Ben I had to take an officer out to see the General and that he did not need bother about going out unless he wanted to.

“I guess the Gen’ll get along just as well without my good wishes,” was his reply, so at one I met the Captain and we talked as we rode along across the city.

He listened intently to my account of the conversation which I overheard yesterday afternoon, and when I had finished he said, “I don’t recall ever seeing any chaplain with her, but he might very easily see her every week or every few days without arousing any suspicions. However, we’ll manage somehow to keep track of the Madame all day Tuesday and see if any chaplain shows up.... As far as that German goes, it only serves to strengthen our suspicions: we can’t take her on suspicion, because that would definitely sacrifice the chance of getting the other party and tracing the line of information—and, after all, that’s what we want. The Madame is just one cog in a machine, and we want to wreck the machine itself....”

“I’ll keep at it,” I assured him.

“By all means,” he continued. “She’s interested in you now and I think you can get away with murder because she has put you down as being perfectly harmless and very innocent. You play your part to perfection.” He drove on in silence until we were almost at the gates of the hospital, then he remarked, quite suddenly, “Why didn’t you tell me you can speak and read German?”

“How should I know you’d be interested?”

“Quite right,” he admitted quickly. “Only it just occurs to me that you’re wasting your time working for General Backett. We could use you in our line very well. Speaking both French and German as fluently as you do is no mean accomplishment, I can tell you.”

“Oh—I use both of them now and then,” I told him. “Not long ago we inspected a prison camp and I talked with several Deutschers for the General, and we’re always bumping into Frenchmen who can’t speak English worth a nickel.”

“Yes, but we could use you,” he insisted. “After we see how this affair turns out, I’ll see about getting you shifted to Paris Intelligence. I’d like to have you around, anyway. And besides, the work would be easy and interesting.”

I didn’t say anything: what could be sweeter than having to work with him all the time?... But it would take a very influential Captain to persuade the General that such a transfer would be for the best interests of the service.

When we were shown into the General’s room, the Captain introduced himself at once and said, “I just wanted to meet you, General, and say that I hope you will not consider this Paris stay as a leave-of-absence for Sergeant Canwick, because I have put him to work in a very important case and it would hardly be fair to him to have it count as a leave.”

“He’ll get a vacation some day,” replied the General.

“I’m sure he will earn it,” declared the Captain. “I hope you don’t mind my making use of his services while you are resting up.”

The General chuckled good-naturedly. “Perhaps you are doing him a good turn, Captain. A busy man doesn’t get into trouble, you know.” He looked at me then and added, “It wouldn’t do any harm to put Garlotz to work, too. He’s looking a little the worse for wear. I should have known enough not to turn a man like him loose in Paris.”

“He’s having the time of his life, sir,” I hastened to assure him, for Ben’s sake. “He won’t get into any trouble, I’m sure.”

“All right,” he assented. “I’ll be out of here before long now, so you will all do best to make hay while the sun shines.” He looked at me again, and asked, “Where’s our mascot to-day?”

I told him Esky was at home with Ben.

“By George, I never thought I’d get so used to a dog that I’d really miss him when he fails to appear.”

Thus the talk drifted away from anything very interesting and the two officers discussed various subjects of common interest to them, while I just sat and waited for the Captain to disengage himself.... When we finally got back to our barracks, it was after four o’clock. We arranged to meet next day and I promised to do my damnedest with the Madame.

So that night I went up there and found the Madame alone. She suggested that we take a long walk for our health and this we did—so long in fact that when we returned, she almost immediately declared her intention of retiring and added, “But I don’t mind if you stay and keep me company for a while.”

I stayed. She went to bed and I went in and lay on the bed beside her.... Finally she dozed off, only to awaken a few minutes later with a start.... “You can just as well stay here to-night, cher enfant—if you’ll be good.”

But I didn’t want to stay there, and I told her, as I kissed her good night, that “I might be good if I stayed here, but I’ll probably be better if I go home.”

She laughed and made me kiss her again.... She wanted me to stay.... But Leona wasn’t going to stay with any woman unless she had to—and there was nothing to be gained by staying that night: there was no one else there except the maid.... I finally got away, but not without an argument which ended abruptly when she suddenly exclaimed that she was ashamed for making such a fool of herself over a mere boy. When she thought of that, she regained control of herself and of the situation, for she dismissed me with a laugh and kiss and told me to “let me see you again to-morrow.”

So I went home and found Ben trying to read a French newspaper upside down.... He did look kinda peaked, now that the General mentioned it. Perhaps ten thousand women were too much for the bull of the boulevards after all!

—7—

I stayed almost all the next night at Madame’s, because she had a party on, and two of the guests passed out and had to be put to bed. One of them was a Major from Chaumont and the other a Captain who was liaison officer between the French and American commands north of Paris. There was much discussion of military affairs during the evening and there seemed to be no question about big things scheduled for the first week of September. The Allies had something big under way, and I caught the Madame paying close attention to some of the information that was being thrown about so freely.

So I stayed, on the pretext of helping take care of the indisposed officers, and even went so far as to plead sleepiness myself. But nothing untoward happened, so far as I could see, although the Madame and the maid were up and around until very late and I’m quite sure that I heard the maid go into the room where the Major was sleeping, while the Madame was playing with me on the divan in the reception room.

But you can’t hang anyone on suspicion.

—8—

Another night at Madame’s and I had my first glimpse of her when she was under the influence of liquor. She got mad at me for some reason or other—I guess it was because I wouldn’t manifest any evidences of a desire to love her. So she proceeded to drink up everything in sight, and she had a remarkable capacity, I must say, although she finally began to show the effects. She didn’t pass out, but she did go to sleep for a little while and when she awoke, she must have thought I had gone for she burst into some of the choicest German profanity I ever hope to hear, but the maid came running in at once and contrived to let her see that I was still there.

She just laughed, however, and declared, “I wouldn’t exchange my baby sergeant for ten generals!”

But before she could begin “loving me to shreds” as she had promised earlier in the evening, I hastened to tell her I was feeling kinda unstable and wanted to go home.

She really thought I was the funniest young kid she ever met: no doubt I was, but not in the way she thought.

—9—

The next day was a busy one. I mean, quite a lot had happened in the matter of France and America versus Madame Ada Gedouin.

In the first place, I went over to her apartment just after noon and parked myself for the day. About two o’clock she decided that we’d better go out for a stroll and a peep in some of the shops, so we set off, after she told the maid she might go out also.

We went to a dozen places and were gone altogether about two hours. When we returned the maid was there, but I wandered into the boudoir with the Madame and made myself useful. She sat down before her dressing table and I stood behind her, playing with the curls at the nape of her neck and talking of this and that.... I saw a long envelope on the corner of the table and I knew at once that it had been put there since we left the apartment, for I had been in there before we went out and there had been no envelope there then.... I didn’t show, by even so much as a second glance at it, that I had noticed the envelope especially, but the Madame finally picked it up and said something about the maid collecting a loan for her. Whereupon she opened the packet and removed its contents. All I could see was that it was paper money of large denominations; she folded them quickly and tucked the batch into her hand bag, handing me the envelope and saying, “Be a good boy and put that in the fireplace in the other room.”

I went into the other room and called back, “Shall I burn it up? There’s nothing else here to burn.”

“You may as well,” she replied and I drew a piece of note paper from my pocket, crumpled it in my hand and touched a match to it. The envelope went into my breeches, inside, because I didn’t have time to fold it and put it in one of the buttoned pockets.

When I went back to the boudoir I asked her why she burned everything up, even in hot weather. “Why don’t you have a wastebasket instead of a fireplace?” I asked.

“I’ve always loathed the sight of a wastebasket,” she replied. “Besides the fireplace is handy and the ashes are so much less for the maid to carry out than papers would be....”

“You’re very considerate of others, aren’t you?” I observed, placing my hands on her shoulders and leaning over for a kiss.

“I’m too considerate sometimes,” she murmured into my ear. And she made that kiss speak worlds and worlds. Then she pushed me away and laughed, not too pleasantly, as she said, “Dammit, young one, you’re making me perfectly miserable!... Sometimes I wish Captain Winstead had wished you upon someone else.”

“Would you rather I didn’t come?” I asked quickly, trying to sound very hurt.

“God, no, honey!” she answered, and her voice was thrillingly vibrant. “I wish you would come and stay—and I mustn’t be wishing such things!”

“Why not?” I inquired ingeniously. “They say if you wish hard enough, anything will come true.”

She turned to me then and took my hand, saying, “Such wishing isn’t good for me.... And what I would wish could never possibly come true.” She turned back to the dressing table with a flourish and raised her voice to say, “Don’t bother me, now, little one. You know you get me all upset.... I think you derive some diabolical delight from tormenting me.”

I laughed and let it go at that, and the rest of the afternoon and evening passed without anything further of great interest, although during the evening, when several of her friends dropped in to talk and drink, I caught her more than once studying me in an interested but detached sort of way. I really felt a little uncomfortable and began to wonder if she suspected anything, or if the maid had seen me stick that envelope down my breeches.

Later, when I was about to leave, she asked me if I were never going to please her by staying there instead of traveling the long distance across the river to my barracks. “You’ll be leaving Paris some day soon, my dear, and perhaps we might never meet again—who can tell?”

All I could do was squeeze her hand and blink my eyes. For the life of me, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was really so sincere, and her position must have been anything but comfortable there in an enemy city. She was a spy, of course, but one couldn’t help but admire a woman as remarkable as she was. Nor could you blame her for being so brazen about a pleasure which she thought would be genuine—she dealt in counterfeit interest and love and passion so much that it seemed a shame that she could not consummate just once at least her desire for something she really wanted.

I knew it wasn’t a very nice thing to think about, but if Leon showed his face in Paris while I was there, his dear sweet sister would do something that seemed utterly impossible for her or anyone else like her to do.... I guess this job was getting under my skin. I wasn’t built for being hard-boiled.

—10—

The Captain got the envelope and examined it carefully under a microscope. There were faint finger imprints on it and it would be photographed and the prints compared with those in the police archives. He said, “If they aren’t the Madame’s—and I doubt if they are, since she hardly touched the envelope—then they may check with someone whom the police already know.”

“How about the chaplain?” I asked him, remembering that I had been with the Madame practically all day and that his operatives were supposed to keep an eye on the place every minute of the day and night.

“Business picks up,” he replied cryptically.

“What do you mean?”

“Well—the maid was shadowed. She met an army chaplain whose name is Keith and who comes from Louisville, Kentucky. We don’t know what passed between them, but it is possible that the money came from that chaplain.... I wasn’t going to tell you the whole story until we finish, but you may as well know it, I suppose.”

I couldn’t help feeling an aching hurt, but I didn’t say anything.

He noticed my change, however, and promptly explained it all away by saying, “We just wanted you to go ahead with the Madame as if nothing had happened and we thought you could do it better if you had no idea of what had happened. However, now that you know it, you’ve just got to act your part in spite of the knowledge. We can’t close in on her yet: we can’t take this chaplain in for questioning just yet, because we want to keep our eyes on him and see what he does with his days and nights. And meantime, you’ve got to go through with your part. You’re doing fine—better than anyone could have done with a woman like her. And sooner or later, we’ll nab her. It’s only a question of time now. So keep up the good work, and don’t let her get suspicious, for that would spoil the whole plan.”

So back to the Madame’s that night. Ben and I went to see the General late in the afternoon and then he dropped me at the Madame’s.

“Want me to call fer ya, General?” he mocked as I stepped out.

“After all, why not?” I replied. “Say, about ten o’clock to-night?”

Ben was surprised but he went through with it gamely. “All right, General, sir—only if I get in trouble fer runnin’ around in this car, you’ll have to take the blame, General, sir!”

I never expected him to show up, but he did just that and in typical Ben-like fashion, opening the door without knocking and walking right into one of the most mixed up lovin’ scenes that ever happened. The Madame and I had finally come to a show-down and I was having the time of my life trying to keep her away from the secret sections of my anatomy. God, how that woman could make love! I learned about women from her all right—but I couldn’t see any fun in it at all and was just about ready to start throwing things when Ben appeared. I mean, I had gone as far as I could, and I couldn’t go any further because if I had the Madame would have found out the truth and then she’d have been suspicious of my motives immediately—and then the Captain’s plans for a coup would be all ruined. And anyone who thinks it isn’t a delicate problem to keep a woman from finding out that you’re a woman and at the same time keep her from getting mad at you—well, a trial will illustrate how I felt.

She didn’t see Ben at first and he was treated to a choice line of endearing terms and brazen invitations. He stood dumfounded for a moment, as if he couldn’t quite get the drift of the situation, but when he started to tiptoe out again I yelled and the Madame saw him. And maybe she wasn’t mad!

She pulled herself together in just one movement and lit on him in a veritable fit of denunciations and deprecatory explosions. She didn’t give him a chance to explain his presence, and when she acted like that I couldn’t say anything because I was afraid she was near the limit as it was.

So I just let Ben take it while I slipped into my slicker and found my cap. When she pushed him out the door, I was right behind her, ready to hop after him.

She calmed down quickly and asked me again if I wouldn’t please her “just this once!”

But I hugged her and rubbed her neck and caressed her and kissed her and told her we’d better make it some other night. By that time I had managed to get around her and as soon as she let me go, I slid through the door and ran down the stairs, where I found Ben waiting in a dilapidated old taxi.

“General,” he saluted me, “your car.” But after we were seated and on our way, he turned to me in disgust. “Now, Leony, I’m gonna break yer head fer ya if ya don’t perk up and act like a man!” he declared earnestly. “What’ya suppose the Lord built ya that way for?... If I ever hear of ya throwin’ away a lovin’ party like that one again, I’m gonna step right in an’ take it away from ya!... Why, she’s the best lookin’ woman I’ve ever seen in my whole damned life! Are ya crazy?... I’d give ten years o’ my life to put my shoes under her bed just once!”

I got mad. “All right,” I told him. “To-morrow I’ll take you over there and you can help yourself. You’re welcome to all of her lovin’ you can get!”

He was quiet for a while then, but he finally burst out with “Here I am workin’ myself skinny tryin’ to satisfy these Parisian women, an’ you, ya little shrimp, actually run away from the best lookin’ and most deservin’ one in the whole pack! Ain’t ya ashamed of yourself?”

“I’ll take you over there to-morrow,” I promised.

All he would say after that was “Seems damned funny to me ... damned funny....”

Which was just two damns funnier than it seemed to me.

—11—

Well, I took Ben to the Madame’s on the pretext that he wanted to apologize for breaking in so unceremoniously last night. She accepted the apology graciously and I think she expected him to leave.

But Ben had no intention of leaving and, as I had told him I would leave them alone, I began to wonder how I could manage to get out without taking him with me. As a starter I turned on the phonograph and put on a peppy record. As the Madame likes to dance, I was not surprised when she submitted to Ben’s invitation to dance with him.

However, Ben wasn’t much when it came to tripping the light fantastic and the Madame could not be blamed for suggesting that they call it enough after but a few steps.

“What’s the matter?” inquired Ben, naturally suspicious and belligerent.

The Madame laughed and told him that she “never could dance very well with big men.... I don’t like such tremendously big men half as much as I do little fellows like the sergeant.”

If she had said anything but that, the evening might have gone along without any exceptional disturbances, but the declaration of preference was to Ben like the proverbial red flag to the bull, and he arose to the occasion promptly to demand, “What the devil’s the matter with these Parisian dames?... Don’t like beeg men!... Huh! When a woman says that to me I just make up my mind that if she an’ I ever get alone together, I’ll make her like me or mangle her!”

“Ou la la!” laughed the Madame. “A genuine cave man, eh?... Such a droll friend for Sergeant Canwick!” And she laughed again.

Well, I knew Ben was going to get rough, regardless of my presence, and I was wondering how in the devil I could get him out of there, because I’d be in a pretty pickle if the Madame got all torn up, and with me standing right there. I mean, she’d naturally expect me to act like a man and crown Ben or something—but I could just see myself trying to crown that big blister.

Ben was starting to amble across to the divan on which she was sitting when we were all startled and relieved by a knock on the door.

“Berta!” the Madame called, and the maid promptly appeared, answered the knock and announced that Major Fergus and a friend were there.

Just the mention of a major was enough to quiet my bulldozing friend. He retired to a secluded corner where he would not have to face the officer and I took advantage of the moment to tell the Madame I had to step out for ten or fifteen minutes.

“Is your battling friend staying?” she inquired with a very wise smile.

“Oh—he’ll be all right,” I told her. “And I’ll be right back anyway.” She laughed and I hurried past the major and his mademoiselle and went out for the air.

I thought I walked around for at least a half hour, but when I came back to the house I realized that I hadn’t been gone more than fifteen or twenty minutes. I made as little noise as possible ascending the stairs and when I stopped in front of her door, unmistakable sounds of a struggle and argument came to my ears. It sounded desperate and I was on the point of knocking, when I heard the Madame suddenly laugh. Then she said, “All right, you wild man—but let’s have a little champagne first to help matters along.”

Well, if that’s the way she felt about it, it was none of my business, so I removed myself to the air again. I don’t know why, but I actually felt disappointed. I never really believed the Madame would give in like that to just any man who fought hard enough to overpower her. I was disgusted with her, I guess.

Fifteen minutes later I returned again—and all was so very quiet that I concluded my presence would be rather superfluous. So out to the air again.

When I returned the next time, about twenty minutes later, I walked boldly up to the door and knocked. The Madame herself let me in. She smiled queerly at me, and I could not meet her eyes. I glanced around the room and spotted Ben stretched out on the divan, apparently sleeping the sleep of the righteous.... I couldn’t figure it out.

When she noted my bewilderment, she laughed lightly and said, “Your friend, the giant, is like all giants, little one: he met his Jack.”

“Meaning?”

“He can’t stand his liquor.”

That seemed funny, but I didn’t say anything and when she said, “Come in the other room and we’ll have some wine,” I followed her dumbly and drank the wine she offered me.

Aside from the fact that her hair was somewhat mussed and her neck showed several red streaks and unnatural marks, she didn’t look as if she had undergone any titanic struggle—or anything else titanic. I was beginning to wonder just what the devil had happened. I mean, I couldn’t quite figure out what Ben had taken while I was taking the air.

But the Madame interrupted my wonderings to suggest that I take my friend out for a little walk and come back later. “He’s in a stupor now and I don’t feel comfortable with a man like that around. He’ll be all right in a little while.”

So I roused Ben as best I could—which was not very much. He didn’t pay any attention to my shaking and pulling and commanding. But when the Madame began slapping his face and jerking his head back and forth, he opened his eyes and began to come to life. The Madame dropped out of sight and I had no difficulty in getting him out of the place. We walked around for ten or fifteen minutes, Ben’s head clearing a little with every step, and I finally decided that he was presentable again, so we returned to the apartment ... and found the door locked, and there was no answer to my knocking. Ben was all for breaking down the heavy old door, but I dissuaded him and finally got him out and into a rat-trap of a taxi that must have been one of those that helped save Paris a couple of years before.

As we bounced away toward the barracks, I asked him what had happened and “Are you satisfied now?”

For answer he called me seven different kinds of an unmentionable progeny.

So I asked him again, and added, “What became of the major and where did the maid go to?”

“The maple leaf only stayed a few minutes, him an’ his broad.”

“And the maid?”

“She came in and said she was supposed to meet some guy named Keith an’ the boss told her to bring us some champagne before she went.”

“And then what happened?” For an innocent girl my curiosity about such situations was unspeakable.

“Why—she gave me a big goblet o’ champagne an’ I downs it at a gulp.... It tasted damn funny but she had me all worked up so I couldn’t think straight anyway, the little b——!”

“What you kicking about?” I asked in surprise. It didn’t seem to me that a man should talk that way about a woman after she’s been good to him.

“Kickin’ about?” he demanded. “An’ you bouncin’ in about two minutes later! That’s what I’m kickin’ about!”

“You’re crazy,” I told him. “I stayed away almost an hour. What were you doing all that time?”

“Oh—fer Christ’s sake!” He was mad—at me, I assumed, but I was wrong. “What a dumb b—— I am!”

So I didn’t know yet what had happened.

—12—

This affair was ended, in so far as I was concerned. The General came out of the hospital finally, full of pep and ambition and said he wanted to leave Paris next morning. “We’ve had a good rest and now we’ll get back to the business of winning the war,” he told me. “There’s much to do right around here, but I want to get away from the city for a while, so we’ll drop down to Le Mans and Orléans and then come back here in a week or so.”

I reported this to the Captain at once. He was keenly disappointed. Also confessed about taking Ben over, and about the maid and the man named Keith. He blamed me for taking Ben, and also for not hanging around so I could follow the maid when she went out to meet the chaplain.... “However,” he said, “you’ve helped a lot, and I’m going to see about having you transferred, after the General has cleaned up some of his work.” He made me promise to look him up as soon as I got back to Paris.

Upon his suggestion I called upon the Madame to say good-by. She welcomed me as usual but rebuked me for bringing “that woman-eating animal to see me.”

I told her I was sorry. That I didn’t think he would act like that.

“Don’t worry, youngster,” she informed me. “Ada doesn’t give in to any man unless she wants to—and, to be frank with you, there’s only one man in Paris whom I would favor in that way....”

“Yes?”

“... and he is here at this minute,” she finished, ending with that funny little laugh.

“You’re a good joker,” I replied with a smile.

“No, I’m not joking, little one,” she insisted. “I know what you think—or, at least, I assume I know. But you have the wrong conception entirely.... I believe in being free and generous and in having a good time with my friends ... but of all the men whom you have met here, there’s not one who can boast of a real conquest here.... You see ... oh, there are many things you can’t understand, youngster.... And now you’re leaving.” She caressed my cheeks with her lips and fingers, and continued, pleasantly and sincerely, “I’ll miss you, cher enfant.... It’s been so nice, having you around.... Promise grandma you’ll be a good boy and stay away from the mademoiselles until you come back to me?”

“I promise faithfully,” I told her.

She kissed me with a smothering fervor, and as she closed the door behind me, murmured, “Hurry back, youngster, like a good boy!”

I forgot to ask her why she wouldn’t let us in last night, when we came back; but I assumed it was on account of Ben.... Well, I did feel sorry for her. She was perfectly able to take care of herself, but sooner or later she’d be caught and then—well, they shot Mata Hari. It didn’t seem that any good could come from killing a woman who was as game, as clever, as altogether interesting as she was.... You see, I loathed having to put up with her caresses and her kisses, but I could understand how a man must feel, if she liked him ... and I couldn’t help liking her and feeling sorry for her.... However, there was a war on: at least, so I’d heard, and to-morrow it was back to the grind for us.