“Who sent you?”
“Jeanette’s brother.”
“Come in.” She opened the door wider and Noelle stepped into a reception hall done
in the style of the 1800’s. There was a large Baccarat chandelier hanging from the ceiling,
several more scattered around the hall, and through an open door, Noelle could see a
sitting room filled with antique furniture and a staircase leading upstairs. On a beautiful
inlaid table were copies of Figaro and L’Echo de Paris. “Wait here. I’ll find out if
Madame Delys has time to see you now.”
“Thank you,” Noelle said. She set her suitcase down and walked over to a large
mirror on the wall. Her clothes were wrinkled from the train ride, and she suddenly
regretted her impulsiveness in coming here before freshening up. It was important to make
a good impression. Still, as she examined herself, she knew that she looked beautiful. She
knew this without conceit, accepting her beauty as an asset, to be used like any other asset.
Noelle turned as she saw a girl in the mirror coming down the stairs. The girl had a good
figure and a pretty face, and was dressed in a long brown skirt and a high-necked blouse.
Obviously the quality of models here was high. She gave Noelle a brief smile and went
into the drawing room. A moment later Madame Delys entered the room. She was in her
forties and was short and dumpy with cold, calculating eyes. She was dressed in a gown
that Noelle estimated must have cost at least two thousand francs.
“Regina tells me that you are looking for a job,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Noelle replied.
“Where are you from?”
“Marseille.”
Madame Delys snorted. “The playpen of drunken sailors.”
Noelle’s face fell.
Madame Delys patted her on the shoulder. “It does not matter, my dear. How old are
you?”
“Eighteen.”
Madame Delys nodded. “That is good. I think my customers will like you. Do you
have any family in Paris?”
“No.”
“Excellent. Are you prepared to start work right away?”
“Oh, yes,” Noelle assured her eagerly.
From upstairs came the sound of laughter and a moment later a red-heade