Governing Passion

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The three Cavaliers, as they dubbed themselves, werehaving a somewhat quiet evening at Madame LaFrance’s bordello. Oneof the better things about Madame’s establishment was that you hada wide choice of gentlemanly pleasures to while away a snowyevening in early March of 1841. There was always, of course,several young women happy to follow you up the carpeted stairs toone of the cramped but well-swept cubicles where a fellow’s lustsand fancies could be stoked or assuaged. There was a roaring firein the fieldstone fireplace, around which three or four easy chairscould be comfortably arranged, with snifters of brandy appearing asif by magic on one’s outstretched fingertips. A tray of Cubancigars was ever displayed on a tiny trundle-table discreetly pushedabout by the luscious Nell, if she weren’t otherwise occupied. Atthe far end of the spacious room sat a pianoforte of some quality,upon which, at appropriate moments during the course of an evening,Sally Butts would perch, revealing the better parts of her legs anda tempting curvature of breast. Sally sang like the proverbialnightingale, or as Sir Lancelot himself said more often thannecessary, like a woods warbler. She was accompanied by Old Henry,who some said had once been Madame LaFrance’s lover. Sally’slilting voice was perfectly suited to the carpeted and heavilydraped space of the “gentleman’s room,” with its Persian rugs, itsvelvet curtains pulled shyly across the big bay window, its mohairfurniture imported from England, and its tender-lit candelabra.

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