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stinging blow increased her ordeal and a deep shame was added to her physical pain. The third whack brought tears of agony and humiliation to her eyes, but she blinked them back furiously, and when Milord pulled up her drawers again, she fancied he gave her inflamed buttocks a brief caress as if to make amends for her suffering.
    ‘One hundred and fifty francs,’ he repeated. ‘For that sum I think monsieur should have the privilege of enjoying mademoiselle in private.’
    There were angry cries of ‘ Pas encore! ’ and ‘ Zut alors! ’ from the crowd, but to Hetty’s relief, their host stood firm. He handed her the heavy clinking purse, and she clutched it gladly as he ushered her and her new master off the platform without subjecting her to further public embarrassment. No doubt he considered she had endured enough, yet she was uncertain what would happen next as the old man offered her his arm and she was obliged to allow him to escort her from the room.
    ‘Now you will come home with me,’ he said as soon as they left the ballroom, his voice quavering with emotion.
    ‘Go to your home? ’ Hetty surveyed him with horror. ‘Oh no, I cannot!’
    ‘That is the bargain,’ the old man informed her, somewhat testily. ‘You are being well paid for your services, mademoiselle. Do you wish to make a complaint?’
    ‘No,’ she said hastily, remembering she was only doing this for the money, after all. ‘I just wondered how we would get to your home, and how far away it might be.’
    ‘It is not too far, and I have my own private barouche ,’ he said with pride. ‘Now tell me your name, please.’
    ‘I am called Louise,’ she lied.
    ‘And you may call me Raoul.’ His knowing smile suggested he suspected Louise was not her real name, and she guessed he had not given her his real name either. He led her out into the cool night, and when she shivered, he put his own cloak around her shoulders. His four-wheeled carriage was waiting for them in the street outside, the horses pawing the ground impatiently. When they had climbed up into the double seat the driver pulled the top over them, hiding them from view, and a moment later the horses set off at a steady pace.
    ‘Now, my dear, we are quite alone,’ Raoul said, pushing aside the cloak to grasp one of her breasts through her gown. ‘You are making an old fellow very happy, you know, and no doubt I shall be quite delirious with joy before the night is out.’
    ‘Where are we heading, sir?’ she asked innocently, a plan of escape slowly forming in her mind.
    ‘I live in the Rue La Fayette . Of course, that is only my town apartment. I have a chateau in Burgundy, and…’
    He went on and on about his properties and Hetty soon lost interest. Her spirits had risen when she realised their destination was but a stone’s throw from the attic she shared with Leo. If only she could give this old lecher the slip… but first she must allay his suspicions by making good use of her feminine wiles.
    ‘Raoul, hold me close,’ she urged him breathlessly. ‘I love to be in your arms.’ Closing her eyes, she prepared herself to endure his intimate caresses. His groping fingers found their way into her dress to her bosom, and he pinched her nipples so hard it made her eyes water. But she stopped herself from crying out, gripping the small moneybag all the more tightly to remind herself why she was putting up with such treatment. ‘I think you are quite excited, Raoul, are you not?’ she cooed. ‘Let me feel your manly vigour.’
    ‘I am not sure quite what state I am in,’ he hedged, and she knew he was not yet stiff, perhaps unable to attain a tumid state by reason of his age.
    ‘No matter,’ she said sweetly. ‘If you are slow in coming to the boil, I shall put a head of steam on you, never fear.’
    He chuckled as he fumbled with his fly and then led her hand to his cock. It lay bent and wrinkled in his trousers, but she fondled it gently as she forced