The luncheon engagement went off on schedule and there was a lot of drinking and talking, but I didn’t drink much and there wasn’t a great deal that I could talk about, so I just played the bashful boy and let the Captain do the vocal work.
Our hostess did ask me if I was enjoying my stay in Paris, to which I replied, as sincerely as possible, “I’ve really enjoyed meeting you and your friends far more than anything else.”
“Isn’t that sweet of you?” she said. “You do say the nicest things. I’m afraid you are understudying that gallant gentleman across from me,” indicating the Captain. “Is that not so, Captain?”
“Not a very good example,” laughed the Captain.
“Well—” she went on, smiling at us in turn, “I feel it my duty to say that if he follows in your footsteps in this city, he won’t for long be the sweet innocent boy that he is now.... You know, Sergeant, the Captain is really notorious.... He’s responsible for more than half the female suicides in the Seine!”
“Barking dogs seldom bite,” I observed, with a smile, although I didn’t feel like smiling. “Perhaps the Captain doesn’t do as much damage as it seems he should.... Some of the greatest swordsmen very seldom really fight, you know.”
“Bravo!” exclaimed the Madame. “I guess you’re not as innocent as you look. Perhaps we’d better wait until you have demonstrated before we reach any conclusions. Yes, Captain?”
“It’s these quiet little devils who are the real devils,” declared my companion, winking at me. “I can think of any number of men who are perfectly devastating in a drawing-room but——”
“Yes...?” she encouraged him, laughing that tinkling silver laugh that was so delightful.
“Why—in a boudoir, it’s a different matter,” the Captain finished lamely.