“Do you bathe, too.”
“It’s out of the question, a man’s undressing takes so much trouble.”
“But we have still two hours before us, in which we need not fear any interruption.”
This reply gave me a foretaste of the bliss I had to gain, but I did not wish to expose myself to an illness by going into the water in my present state. I noticed a summer-house at a little distance, and feeling sure that M. Tronchin had left the door open, I took the two girls on my arm and led them there without giving them any hint of my intentions. The summer-house was scented with vases of pot-pourri and adorned with engravings; but, best of all, there was a large couch which seemed made for repose and pleasure. I sat down on it between my two sweethearts, and as I caressed them I told them I was going to shew them something they had never seen before, and without more ado I displayed to their gaze the principal agent in the preservation of the human race. They got up to admire it, and taking a hand of each one I procured them some enjoyment, but in the middle of their labours an abundant flow of liquid threw them into the greatest astonishment.
“That,” said I, “is the Word which makes men.”
“It’s beautiful!” cried Helen, laughing at the term “word.”
“I have a word too,” said Hedvig, “and I will shew it to you if you will wait a minute.”
“Come, Hedvig, and I will save you the trouble of making it yourself, and will do it better.”
“I daresay, but I have never done it with a man.”
“No more have I,” said Helen.