They had supper and afterward went back to Sorel’s apartment in the beautiful rue
Maurice-Barres, overlooking the corner where it became the Bois de Boulogne. Philippe
Sorel was a skillful lover, surprisingly considerate and unselfish. Sorel had expected
nothing from Noelle but her beauty, and he was astonished by her versatility in bed.
“Christ!” he said. “You’re fantastic. Where did you learn all that?”
Noelle thought about it a moment. It was really not a question of learning. It was a
matter of feeling. To her a man’s body was an instrument to be played on, to explore to its
innermost depths, finding the responsive chords and building upon them, using her own
body to help create exquisite harmonies.
“I was born with it,” she said simply.
Her fingertips began to lightly play around his lips, quick little butterfly touches, and
then moved down to his chest and stomach. She saw him starting to grow hard and erect
again. She arose and went into the bathroom and returned a moment later and slid his hard
penis into her mouth. Her mouth was hot, filled with warm water.
“Oh, Christ,” he said.
They spent the entire night making love, and in the morning, Sorel invited Noelle to
move in with him.
Noelle lived with Philippe Sorel for six months. She was neither happy nor unhappy.
She knew that her being there made Sorel ecstatically happy, but this did not matter in the
slightest to Noelle. She regarded herself as simply a student, determined to learn
something new every day. He was a school that she was attending, a small part in her large
plan. To Noelle there was nothing personal in their relationship, for she gave nothing of
herself. She had made that mistake twice, and she would never make it again. There was
room for only one man in Noelle’s thoughts and that was Larry Douglas. Noelle would
pass the place des Victoires or a park or restaurant where Larry had taken her, and she
would feel the hatred well up within her, choking her, so it became difficult to breathe, and
there was something else mixed in with the hatred, something Noelle could not put a name
to.
Two months after moving in with Sorel, Noelle received a call from Christian Barbet.
“I have another report for you,” the little detective said.
“Is he all right?” Noelle asked quickly.
Again Barbet was filled with that sense of uneasiness. “Yes,” he said.
Noelle’s voice was filled with relief. “I’ll be right down.”
The report was divided into two parts. The first dealt with Larry Douglas’ military
career. He had shot down five German planes and was the first American to become an
Ace in the war. He had been promoted to Captain. The second part of the report interested
her more. He had become very popular in London’s wartime social life and had become
engaged to the daughter of a British Admiral. There followed a list of girls that Larry was