weight against the natural cushion. There was the sensation of countless tiny curls of touch. And her own of nutmeg color at her intersection coiled among those of the green.
She rolled over slowly, her eyes and her mouth open. From her came a prolonged sound of helpless submission. Her Viking hair fanned out around her head. Her legs arched up left and right and relaxed apart.
It was time for Chesser to get into the act. And he did. With appropriate spirit.
If the sybaritic Simone was observing them from her invisible vantage on the other side, no doubt she approved. For, naturally, it was quite exceptional.
Almost daily thereafter Maren made long-distance calls to Mildred, who soon got the picture and relayed directions. It seemed there were a great many mossy beds and grassy bowers within easy pacing distance from the house; ideal, lovely places, just waiting to again be put to use with the permission of a Geneviève, a Dominique, a Françoise, a Beatrice, a Sylvie, or Danielle.
After a dozen days of such renascent behavior, including one twilight in a chill rain, Chesser looked forward to the more customary comforts of sheets and man-made bed. He didnât mention that to Maren. However, she shared that feeling because the previous time out, in the nice lap of an open field, she just happened to catch sight of a pair of farm boys peeking and ducking over a bordering rock wall. By then, of course, it was a bit late to feel self-conscious. Actually, much later than either Maren or Chesser realized, for there had also been another, more deliberate eyewitness to all their outdoor intimacies, an expertly quiet little man with a powerful longdistance lens on his 35-mm. Nikon camera.
From then on Maren and Chesser did their lovemaking indoors. Mildred validated that decision, conveying a message from the spirits, who said they were bored with the whole thing anyway. They were, after all, the type of souls prone to ennui. Said Mildred.
One night Chesser and Maren went into Paris for a soiree at the home of an acquaintance. They both had secretly looked forward to it as a sort of relief, but, after less than an hour of exposure to all the practiced remarks and thinly camouflaged unhappiness, they were eager to escape and went rushing back to Chantilly feeling even more grateful for one another.
Another morning, two Citroen-loads of lawyers arrived at the house with documents requiring Marenâs signature. Chesser thought the lawyers all resembled rodents cautiously eyeing a big hunk of cheese and trying to devise some way of snapping it out of the trap. They were cordial to him, for he was, after all, their most promising means to a very lucrative end. Maren invited them to stay for lunch and, when they expressed polite hesitation, she abruptly accepted that as their refusal and suggested a vague âsome other time.â
After the lawyers had departed, Maren and Chesser walked into town, down rue du Connetable to the Relais Conde, where they enjoyed double helpings of cold tiny crawfish taken from the local canal. They sipped Cassis and discussed such things as the universal need for contraception and the merits of various sports cars. Maren informed Chesser that sheâd ordered a special Ferrari 365 GTB and asked him to remind her to call and inquire why it hadnât been delivered as promised. From the Conde they went home the long way, around the Château de Chantilly, paying a franc each for entrance, and it was worth every sou because, as they walked by the moat, they witnessed the splashing, flapping, beaking mating of a pair of swans, one black and one white. It appeared more combative than amorous.
Nearly every night Chesser and Maren played backgammon. She threw many pairs but misjudged her advantages and doubled carelessly. As a result her gambling debt to Chesser increased to nearly two million dollars. Quite earnestly, she told Chesser she was going to have the lawyers issue him a check,
She rolled over slowly, her eyes and her mouth open. From her came a prolonged sound of helpless submission. Her Viking hair fanned out around her head. Her legs arched up left and right and relaxed apart.
It was time for Chesser to get into the act. And he did. With appropriate spirit.
If the sybaritic Simone was observing them from her invisible vantage on the other side, no doubt she approved. For, naturally, it was quite exceptional.
Almost daily thereafter Maren made long-distance calls to Mildred, who soon got the picture and relayed directions. It seemed there were a great many mossy beds and grassy bowers within easy pacing distance from the house; ideal, lovely places, just waiting to again be put to use with the permission of a Geneviève, a Dominique, a Françoise, a Beatrice, a Sylvie, or Danielle.
After a dozen days of such renascent behavior, including one twilight in a chill rain, Chesser looked forward to the more customary comforts of sheets and man-made bed. He didnât mention that to Maren. However, she shared that feeling because the previous time out, in the nice lap of an open field, she just happened to catch sight of a pair of farm boys peeking and ducking over a bordering rock wall. By then, of course, it was a bit late to feel self-conscious. Actually, much later than either Maren or Chesser realized, for there had also been another, more deliberate eyewitness to all their outdoor intimacies, an expertly quiet little man with a powerful longdistance lens on his 35-mm. Nikon camera.
From then on Maren and Chesser did their lovemaking indoors. Mildred validated that decision, conveying a message from the spirits, who said they were bored with the whole thing anyway. They were, after all, the type of souls prone to ennui. Said Mildred.
One night Chesser and Maren went into Paris for a soiree at the home of an acquaintance. They both had secretly looked forward to it as a sort of relief, but, after less than an hour of exposure to all the practiced remarks and thinly camouflaged unhappiness, they were eager to escape and went rushing back to Chantilly feeling even more grateful for one another.
Another morning, two Citroen-loads of lawyers arrived at the house with documents requiring Marenâs signature. Chesser thought the lawyers all resembled rodents cautiously eyeing a big hunk of cheese and trying to devise some way of snapping it out of the trap. They were cordial to him, for he was, after all, their most promising means to a very lucrative end. Maren invited them to stay for lunch and, when they expressed polite hesitation, she abruptly accepted that as their refusal and suggested a vague âsome other time.â
After the lawyers had departed, Maren and Chesser walked into town, down rue du Connetable to the Relais Conde, where they enjoyed double helpings of cold tiny crawfish taken from the local canal. They sipped Cassis and discussed such things as the universal need for contraception and the merits of various sports cars. Maren informed Chesser that sheâd ordered a special Ferrari 365 GTB and asked him to remind her to call and inquire why it hadnât been delivered as promised. From the Conde they went home the long way, around the Château de Chantilly, paying a franc each for entrance, and it was worth every sou because, as they walked by the moat, they witnessed the splashing, flapping, beaking mating of a pair of swans, one black and one white. It appeared more combative than amorous.
Nearly every night Chesser and Maren played backgammon. She threw many pairs but misjudged her advantages and doubled carelessly. As a result her gambling debt to Chesser increased to nearly two million dollars. Quite earnestly, she told Chesser she was going to have the lawyers issue him a check,
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