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.