opened by Gautier. He wore a flowered dressing gown.
“Come in,” he said.
Noelle walked into the apartment. Her eye was untrained, but she sensed that it was
done in beautiful taste and that the objets d’art were valuable.
“Sorry I’m not dressed,” Gautier apologized. “I’ve been on the telephone.”
Noelle’s eyes locked onto his. “It will not be necessary for you to be dressed.” She
moved over to the couch and sat down.
Gautier smiled. “That was the feeling I had, Miss Page. But I’m curious about
something. Why me? You’re engaged to a man who is famous and wealthy. I am sure that
if you are looking for some extracurricular activities, you could find men more attractive
than I, and certainly richer and younger. What is it you want from me?”
“I want you to teach me to act,” Noelle said.
Armand Gautier looked at her a moment, then sighed. “You disappoint me. I
expected something more original.”
“Your business is working with actors.”
“With actors, not amateurs. Have you ever acted?”
“No. But you will teach me.” She took off her hat and her gloves. “Where is your
bedroom?” she asked.
Gautier hesitated. His life was full of beautiful women wanting to be in the theater, or
wanting a bigger part, or the lead in a new play, or a larger dressing room. They were all a
pain. He knew that he would be