He answered not, but sought to burn the skin of my neck and bosom by those Prometheus rays.
Now, in the morning I got a note from Henry, and I had been thinking of the dear boy every minute. I was longing for him; my heart, my senses were crying for him.
I forgot Bernhardt; I forgot all around me. With my fancies focussed on my lover, I leaned back in my armchair, gazing at the rising moon. My word, at that moment I was lost to everything.
I half-awoke from my dream when I heard Bernhardt rise. A moment later I felt his eyes prowling over my body. Then a shadow darkened my face and Bernhardt said with a strange quaver in his voice:
"Cherchez la femme. You are the woman, Louise, you and none else."
And wild, forbidden kisses burned on my face, on my neck, on my breasts. Both hands claimed a lover's liberties.
I was taken completely unawares; in my mind of minds I was in the Countess's pavilion, receiving Henry's caresses. All sense of location had vanished. And, thinking of my lover, I clasped both arms about Bernhardt's neck and drew him to me. We kissed like mad. The love feast for Henry became Bernhardt's in the twinkling of an eye.
Whether he felt like a thief, I don't know; for my part my senses responded to Henry, not to his substitute.
How long this embrace lasted, I don't know. Somebody, or some noise, caused us to separate.
I fled and locked myself in my room.