Anonymous - The Altar of Venus

"Was that what you were thinking about, Gilbert?"

And then, little tapered fingers closed over the edge of her gown drew it around her naked body, veiling it forever from my view. A short lived romance was over, and as I look back over the span of years, it still seems more a dream th amp;n a reality.

In the early part of the year 1922 my grand-

mother died in Scotland leaving estate, bequests in money to various members of the family including myself, and shortly thereafter I received as my share the tidy sum of one thousand pounds sterling.

This unexpected acquisition of ready cash made possible the realization of a dream I had long entertained-a visit to Paris. My father tried to dissuade me, urging the desirability of investing the money in some manner calculated to assure my future. But as in the past, I paid little heed to his counsel and proceeded with my plans. I had heard and read of wonderous things to be seen, and enjoy in the French capi-tol, and was avid to experience its delights in person.

With two hundred and fifty pounds in my possession, I embarked for Paris. I had studied the French language in a desultory fashion and although I could not speak it with any degree of fluency I knew enough to understand and make myself understood.

The visitor in Paris with money to spend has no difficulty in discovering ways to spend it and people anxious to assist in the task. Indeed they seem to gravitate toward one as though literally endowed with some uncanny instinct for smelling money and had it not been for a most fortuituous accident, the relatively small amount

of money with which I was provided, would have been greedily snatched from me, without having sufficed to cover a fraction of the pro-grame I had outlined. The accident referred to, was the chance meeting of a British friend, some yeara older than I, and well versed in things Parisian. He was on the point of returning to England, but before departing he gave some pertinent advice about trusting myself to affable strangers, and introducing me to a member of the French Surete, or Secret Police, who, during his hours of leisure, which seemed to be plentiful, was disposed to act as a confidential guide and companion in consideration of a modest fee.

And a better guide it would not have been possible to find for not only did this man know every inch of Paris, but his presence assured me respect, and protection from impositions. He understood English fairly well, and we formed a sincere friendship.

In his company I began to learn something of the real Paris night life-not the flambouyant surface, with its imported American jazz orchestras, etc., but the secret undercurrent, which only the initiated could penetrate. My new companion was familiar with secret resort from the lowest and most abject dens of vice in sub-terranian cellars to luxurious temples located in

respectable appearing edifices, scattered through the city.

On the occasion of one such outing, I struck up an acquaintance with a well dressed cultured gentleman who like myself was unaccompanied. We had a few drinks together and the man, evidently taking a liking to me, invited me to accompany him the following evening to an exclusive club in which a motion picture was to be displayed. He had seen the picture once, but was so impressed with it, that he wished to see it a second time. I was much interested, for I had not as yet had an opportunity to see a picture of this nature, so gladly accepted his invitation, agreeing to meet him the following evening.

Half afraid that his friendship had been born of the numerous libations we had shared, and that it would be forgotten before the birth of a new day, I was early at the prearranged meeting place. My fears were unfounded, for punctually at the hour agreed, he appeared.

We ate dinner together, and when it was concluded, we took a taxi which turned so many corners I quickly lost all sense of direction. We wound up finally in a quiet street, and came to a stop before a large stone edifice which, as far as its outward appearance indicated, might have been the residence of some banker or retired politician.

A touch of the bell, a few words exchanged between my companion and the doorman, we were inside. Turning our hats and coats over to an attendent, we proceeded down a hall which led us to a spacious saloon, in one extremity of which was a stage. Comfortable chairs, lounges, and sofas were distributed about the place, in number suffiient to accommodate a hundred or more guests. At the moment of our entry, the saloon was lighted and there were, between men and women, some sixty or seventy persons present.

I glanced around curiously. This was clearly a place of the elite. The women were gowned in the height of fashion and most of the men were in formal dress. Colored liquors were being served in thin long stemmed glasses and as my companion and I crossed th^room toward an unoccupied settee, he was greeted familiarly on all sides.

As soon as we were seated I began a survey of the feminine element and quickly observed that among the women present, were many both young and beautiful. The entire lack of formality and constraint, the freedom of their movements, the generous display of breasts, backs, shoulders and legs was suggestive of the demimonde, and I could hardly restrain a feeling of envy toward the men whose company they shared. In imagination I followed them after the conclusion of such entertainment as this we were about to witness to luxuriously appointed apartments where with sense aflame, they abandonded themselves to wild orgies of lust.

As my gaze wandered from face to face it came to rest upon a young woman of rare and striking beauty over whom a vapid faced Frenchman was hovering and showering with exaggerated attentions. The woman I guessed to be in the neighborhood of twenty-five. She was dressed in black, and the front of her gown was cut so low that it barely reached the nipples of two singularly large, and beautiful breasts, whose upper halves were entirely exposed. Always an admirer of pretty breasts, this exotic charm alone would have been sufficient to engage my attention. Her figure was slim, a fact which further accentuated the prominence and contour of her breasts. Raven black hair threw the pallor of a face of lilylike whiteness into sharp contrast. She did not look French and my impression was that she was Italian or Spanish.

There was something violently sensual about this girl and my pulse quickened as I watched her. My companion broke into my absorption with a dry commentary.

"You seem to be interested in the Russian."

"Russian ?" I replied, "I thought probably she was Italian. Whatever her nationality is, she is a remarkably beautiful woman."

"I know her well enough to present you if you wish. Russian nobility but better fixed than most of them, who have come in since the war. Married a rich Frenchman when she was fifteen. Too fast for the old fellow. Caught her in "delictu flagrante" and divorced her. But he settled an annuity on her that will keep her in luxury as long as she lives."

His comments augmented, rather than diminished my interests, and I assured him I would be very glad to make her acquaintance. Whereupon he led me across the room and after obtaining the lady's permission, I was duly presented.

To my delight, the Russian girl had a good knowledge of English so I was spared the ordeal of trying to converse with her in French. She introduced me to her escort, who acknowledged the courtesy with little cordiality and glared at me with a look which seemed to say:

'Til thank you to kindly get to hell away from here."

However I did not permit his coolness to in-terfer with my efforts to make myself agreeable to the Russian girl, whom I found to be even more fascinating at close range than at a dis^-