The Doctor found Josephine in her boudoir, voluptuously reclining upon a damask ottoman, and languidly turning over the leaves of a splendid portfolio of engravings.
'Ah, my dear Doc,' she exclaimed, using a familiar abbreviation of Doctor, 'I am devilish glad to see you, for I am bored to death with ennui. Heigho!'
'And if I may presume to inquire, Josey,' said the Doctor—'what have you there to engage your attention?'
'Oh, views from nature,' she laughingly replied, handing him the portfolio for his inspection.
Turning over the leaves, the Doctor found, somewhat to his astonishment, that the engravings were of rather an obscene character, consisting principally of nude male figures;—and upon these specimens of a perverted art had she been feasting her impure imagination. The time had been, when the Doctor would have turned with pain and disgust from such an evidence of depravity; but he had lately become so habituated to vice, that he merely smiled in playful reproach, and leisurely examined the pictures.
'I commend your taste,' said he, at length. 'Our preferences are both strictly classical; you dote upon the Apollo Belvedere, while in you I worship a Venus.'
'Yes—you are my Apollo,' she rejoined, with a glance of passion, encircling him with her arms.
Dinner was magnificently served in an apartment whose splendor could scarce have been surpassed in a kingly palace.
They dined alone; for Mrs. Franklin was invisible—and so, also, was the comely young footman!