Join the Dots…

From Blushes 34 ‘Nineteen,’ said Madame Lamartre. ‘What? No, certainly not.’ She examined perfect crimson fingernails as the voice over the telephone continued, more apologetic now. Hearing him out and then, crisply, in her only slightly accented English, ‘Well, I cannot speak for other establishments, Mr Spencer,’ but we do not play with any of that business here. If I say 19 that is what she is.’ More apologies came over the line. As well they might. Madame Lamartre was not short of clients, she didn’t need this particular Englishman. Whereas quite probably he did need her. If he wanted… she allowed herself to be mollified. English gentlemen could be charming, flattering even, or some of them at least. And this Mr Spencer was now very keen for an appointment. Well, he had apologised. ‘We can say 3 o’clock then, if you wish. No, not at all. She will be ready for you.’ The house was in the Rue d...