you for speaking,” he said, equally politely. His glance rested on the man who had moved to the front of the hall to join them, a man in dress clothes. “Ah! Dr. Howard’s guest, I presume.”
“
Oui, Monsieur le Doyen
,” Louis replied with a smile.
“Then we shall see you at the Rare Books reception in a little while,” said Dr. Rubin. “Monsieur — ?”
“Dessant,” said Louis.
“Ah. As in the cigarette?”
Louis smiled at the time-worn question. “
Oui
, as in the cigarette.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Dessant,” said Dr. Rubin, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “
À toute à l’heure
.”
“
À toute à l’heure
,” Louis replied, as he and Bishou left.
In the corridor, Louis said, “They know the cigarette, that is all, isn’t it?”
“You aren’t a major factor in their world,” Bishou replied.
“And here you are, straddling both. Your dress-bag is in my car.”
They walked out, together, to the university car park. Louis opened the trunk of the white Mercedes and pulled out Bishou’s dress-bag. They returned to the lecture building, where Bishou made her way to the ladies’ room. There, in the empty bathroom, she changed to the blue dress, put on her shoes, and applied evening makeup.
Bishou stepped out of the bathroom and saw Louis’s eyes widen. She hadn’t realized how much the elegant dress transformed her. “Could you hook this for me?”
“With pleasure.” His hands were sure as he fastened the dress hooks. She felt his fingers touch the bare skin of her back before he finished his task. He slid his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him, and murmured in her ear, “You are quite beautiful.”
“Only in your eyes,” she said softly. She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck.
Chapter 5
They walked to the parking area. Bishou placed her clothing bag in the trunk of the open white car. She looked up in time to see Louis eyeing another car in the same lot. The car had government seals. “We might see people I know,” Louis said, his voice sounding restrained.
“Such as?”
“My parole officer.”
“Oh, really.” What could she say to that?
“Mm, oui. I will probably introduce you to him, you know. Be warned.”
“
Bien
, we are ready,” Bishou replied. She took his arm as they re-entered university grounds and made their way to the library.
The library doors were open. Well-dressed students were standing by, ushering or directing nicely dressed visitors to the Clemenceau Rare Books Room. Bishou clasped Louis’s elbow as if this were the most normal thing in the world, and they walked toward the Rare Books Room.
It was a large room crowded with people, certainly more than a Rare Books librarian would see on an ordinary working day. They could see a refreshments table, with stewards pouring wine, as they entered the door of the room. There were two or three groups of people, talking. Glass cases on tables displayed some of the library’s existing treasures. Thirty or forty people milled around in this room, elegantly dressed, a striking contrast to the usual student garb one expected to see.
Bishou glanced at her companion, and thought:
He’s perfect. Here’s where he would be under normal conditions, at an elite reception.
Louis gazed at the people in the room, looking somehow inscrutable and urbane, the perfect escort.
Louis murmured, “Shall we get some wine?”
“Yes, let’s.”
They walked together to the refreshment table, where a steward poured wine. Louis snagged a stem of red wine for himself, and gave her the white.
On the other side of the room, Bishou noticed the Library Society chairwoman, Mme. Cantrell, making eye contact with her. “I think we need to speak to one of Denise’s friends.”
“Certainly, if you say so.” Louis accompanied her to the little crowd around the assertive chairwoman.
“Bishou,” said Mme. Cantrell, when they were close enough, “no wonder Mme. Campard
“
Oui, Monsieur le Doyen
,” Louis replied with a smile.
“Then we shall see you at the Rare Books reception in a little while,” said Dr. Rubin. “Monsieur — ?”
“Dessant,” said Louis.
“Ah. As in the cigarette?”
Louis smiled at the time-worn question. “
Oui
, as in the cigarette.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Dessant,” said Dr. Rubin, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “
À toute à l’heure
.”
“
À toute à l’heure
,” Louis replied, as he and Bishou left.
In the corridor, Louis said, “They know the cigarette, that is all, isn’t it?”
“You aren’t a major factor in their world,” Bishou replied.
“And here you are, straddling both. Your dress-bag is in my car.”
They walked out, together, to the university car park. Louis opened the trunk of the white Mercedes and pulled out Bishou’s dress-bag. They returned to the lecture building, where Bishou made her way to the ladies’ room. There, in the empty bathroom, she changed to the blue dress, put on her shoes, and applied evening makeup.
Bishou stepped out of the bathroom and saw Louis’s eyes widen. She hadn’t realized how much the elegant dress transformed her. “Could you hook this for me?”
“With pleasure.” His hands were sure as he fastened the dress hooks. She felt his fingers touch the bare skin of her back before he finished his task. He slid his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him, and murmured in her ear, “You are quite beautiful.”
“Only in your eyes,” she said softly. She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck.
Chapter 5
They walked to the parking area. Bishou placed her clothing bag in the trunk of the open white car. She looked up in time to see Louis eyeing another car in the same lot. The car had government seals. “We might see people I know,” Louis said, his voice sounding restrained.
“Such as?”
“My parole officer.”
“Oh, really.” What could she say to that?
“Mm, oui. I will probably introduce you to him, you know. Be warned.”
“
Bien
, we are ready,” Bishou replied. She took his arm as they re-entered university grounds and made their way to the library.
The library doors were open. Well-dressed students were standing by, ushering or directing nicely dressed visitors to the Clemenceau Rare Books Room. Bishou clasped Louis’s elbow as if this were the most normal thing in the world, and they walked toward the Rare Books Room.
It was a large room crowded with people, certainly more than a Rare Books librarian would see on an ordinary working day. They could see a refreshments table, with stewards pouring wine, as they entered the door of the room. There were two or three groups of people, talking. Glass cases on tables displayed some of the library’s existing treasures. Thirty or forty people milled around in this room, elegantly dressed, a striking contrast to the usual student garb one expected to see.
Bishou glanced at her companion, and thought:
He’s perfect. Here’s where he would be under normal conditions, at an elite reception.
Louis gazed at the people in the room, looking somehow inscrutable and urbane, the perfect escort.
Louis murmured, “Shall we get some wine?”
“Yes, let’s.”
They walked together to the refreshment table, where a steward poured wine. Louis snagged a stem of red wine for himself, and gave her the white.
On the other side of the room, Bishou noticed the Library Society chairwoman, Mme. Cantrell, making eye contact with her. “I think we need to speak to one of Denise’s friends.”
“Certainly, if you say so.” Louis accompanied her to the little crowd around the assertive chairwoman.
“Bishou,” said Mme. Cantrell, when they were close enough, “no wonder Mme. Campard
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