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ALBUQUERQUE, N.M. — Dion’s is boosting its presence in New Mexico’s second-largest city.
The Albuquerque-based pizzeria chain has announced plans for another Las Cruces location, its second in the market. The new restaurant at the intersection of El Paseo and Idaho should open by fall, according to a news release.
That’s about a mile away from the New Mexico State University campus.
It’s even closer to Las Cruces High School.
It marks store No. 22 for the chain, which continues its steady growth within the region. Dion’s opened its first Denver-area location last fall, and also has stores in West Texas.
The new Las Cruces site will reflect the company’s new look — an interior design currently seen only at the Denver-area and newest Lubbock stores, according to Codi Coulter, Dion’s communications coordinator.
It will employ about 70 people.
Dion’s first expanded to Las Cruces in 2005, Coulter said.
“Our current Las Cruces location has been greatly successful, and many fans have expressed interest in a location closer to the University,” CEO Mark Herman said in a statement. |
Teva and the big banks led the losses on the TASE today as Israel Corp. bucked the market.
The Tel Aviv Stock Exchange fell today. The Tel Aviv 35 Index fell 0.78% to 1,593.51 points; the Tel Aviv 125 Index fell 0.69% to 1,469.28 points; and the BlueTech Global Index fell 0.57% to 387.32 points. The TelBond 20 corporate bond index fell 0.04% to 357.34 points. Trading turnover was NIS 1.23 billion.
On the foreign currency market, the Bank of Israel set the shekel-dollar representative rate up 0.478% at NIS 3.575/$ from Tuesday's rate and set the shekel-euro rate up 0.580% at 4.044/€.
On the market, Bezeq Israeli Telecommunication Co. Ltd. (TASE: BEZQ) fell 3.05% and Opko Health Inc. (NYSE: OPK; TASE: OPK) fell 3.80% for the biggest fall on the Tel Aviv 35 Index. Teva Pharmaceutical Industries Ltd. (NYSE: TEVA; TASE: TEVA) fell 2.11%, and Elbit Systems Ltd. (Nasdaq: ESLT; TASE: ESLT) fell 1.50%.
Bank Leumi (TASE: LUMI) fell 1.38% on the day's biggest trading turnover. Bank Hapoalim (TASE: POLI) fell 1.87%, Israel Discount Bank (TASE: DSCT) fell 1.83% and Mizrahi Tefahot Bank (TASE:MZTF) fell 1.84%.
Israel Corporation (TASE: ILCO) rose 3.94% for the biggest rise on the Tel Aviv 35 Index and Israel Chemicals (TASE: ICL: NYSE: ICL) rose 0.62%. Perrigo Company (NYSE:PRGO; TASE:PRGO) rose 0.89% and NICE Systems Ltd. (Nasdaq: NICE; TASE: NICE) rose 0.94%. |
Before director Tim Burton chose Michael Keaton to play the Caped Crusader in 1989's Batman, he had offered the role to Pierce Brosnan. Surprisingly, Brosnan turned down the part even though the actor's only real claim to fame at that time was a starring role in a then-cancelled television series, Remington Steele (1982–1987).
"It was the beginning of these huge movies, and I just thought, Batman?" Brosnan told Details. "Batman held such an indelible place in my own childhood, but I said something flippant to Tim Burton like, 'Any guy who wears his underpants outside his trousers cannot be taken seriously.' So, yeah."
On a positive note, if he had taken the Batman role he may have not been able to take the role he was born to play in 1994: James Bond. As Captain Picard (Patrick Stewart) learned in "Tapestry," our past mistakes set us on the path to becoming the man/woman we are today.
Batman (1989) - Tim Burton directs; Michael Keaton stars as Batman; and Jack Nicholson stars as his arch foe, The Joker, in the first of the blockbuster Batman series of features. As the Dark Knight, defender of law and order in Gotham City, Batman treads the shadow zone between right and wrong, fighting with only his skill in martial arts and his keenly honed mind to defend the innocent and to purge the memory of his parents' brutal murder--always keeping his true identity as millionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne a closely guarded secret. |
Neisseria meningitidis bacteremia in association with deficiency of the sixth component of complement The serum of a 26-year-old black man with a recent episode of meningococcemia complicated by meningitis and arthritis was found to lack hemolytic complement activity. The sixth component of complement was not detected by functional or immunochemical assays whereas other components were normal by hemolytic assay. His fresh acute-phase serum lacked complement-mediated bactericidal activity against the homologous strain of Neisseria meningitidis, but the addition of fresh normal serum or purified C6 restored bactericidal activity as well as hemolytic activity. The absence of C6 activity could not be accounted for on the basis of an inhibitor. Opsonization and chemotaxis functioned normally. Histocompatibility typing of family members did not demonstrate evidence for genetic linkage of C6 deficiency with the major histocompatibility loci. This report represents the first published case of C6 deficiency associated with bacteremic Neisseria infections in which antimeningococcal bactericidal antibodies have been definitively demonstrated against the homologous strain in the acute phase of the illness. |
A critique of the age determination method using neurolipofuscin values, as described by Matthews et al. Recent reports concluded that more than 90% of all Caribbean spiny lobsters (Panulirus argus) caught near the Western Sambo Ecological Reserve (Florida, USA) were less than 1.9 years after settlement (). These results stem from an age determination method using neurolipofuscin values published in your journal (). Critiquing the method is the subject of this letter to the editor. Neurolipofuscin accumulation rates were determined by growing P. argus post-larva with 6 mm carapace (cape) starting length in the laboratory over 4 years. They were fed to satiation (Maxwell 2006; Matthews & Maxwell 2007) on food with energy contents 1.9 times greater than wild diets (Table 1) where the average fullness index for animals between 5 and 80 mm carapace length is 50% (). The laboratory food included squid, nonexistent in the natural diet, and known to increase the nutritional value of food by enhancing digestive proteases activity (). Wild lobsters cover about 900 m per night while foraging (Bertelsen & Hornbeck 2009), but the laboratory lobsters were sedentary; to reach wild lobsters energy expenditures they would have had to walk around their 1.6 m diameter tanks 180 times a day, which is very unlikely. This combination of unlimited amounts of more energy-containing food with minimal energy expenditures determined a 31% greater growth rate in the laboratory than in the wild during the first year () but, and in spite of this, the greater growth in laboratory lobsters and concomitant neurolipofuscin accumulation rates were considered equivalent to those in the wild. In the Florida Keys there are 2.2 times more mobile invertebrates, 1.6 more species and 1.3 more taxa per site than in Dry Tortugas (Netchy 2014), and the stocky cerith snail (Cerithium litteratum), one of the most common food sources for P. argus, is present at densities of up to 180 individuals per m (); all signs of greater prey abundance in the Florida Keys than in Dry Tortugas. Consequently, it is safe to assume that to accumulate any given neurolipofuscin amount it takes longer and will be present in larger animals in Dry Tortugas than in the Florida Keys. Carapace length ranges in the wild () and in the laboratory represent metabolic differences between animals within well-defined age groups, consistent with known P. argus metabolic variations (Buesa 1979) but ranges for lipofuscin ages are 1.8 to 8.3 times larger (Table 2). Percentage volume fraction (%VF) of neurolipofuscin from wild lobsters were assigned carapace frequencies from large commercial samples (, fig. 2) to calculate age cohorts but, because every %VF class included animals with different growth and neurolipofuscin accumulation rates, they are not chronological age |
eNVM based In-memory Computing for Intelligent and Secure Computing Systems The recent breakthrough in Artificial Intelligence (AI) largely relies on the advance of hardware performance. However, energy and security have been primary concerns in the design and management of modern computing systems and data centers. The emerging embedded Non-Volatile Memories (eNVMs) have drawn great attention to various applications to improve both computing speed and security with much lower power consumption. In this paper, we review and discuss several application cases of the in-memory computing techniques, including Deep Neural Network (DNN) accelerators and neuromorphic computing circuits. Moreover, we also explore the in-memory computing techniques for the security enhancement, especially for machine learning attack. The emerging security issues raised by eNVMs and possible solutions are also discussed. |
The liquid crystal display possesses advantages of thin body, power saving, low radiation and soft image of not hurting eyes, and is the main stream display in the present display market. According to the different alignment directions of the liquid crystal molecules, the liquid crystal displays can be categorized as IPS display, VA display and FFS display (Fringe Field Switching). Compared with other displays, the FFS display has better wide view angle effect, which is the wide view angle technology developed by the liquid crystal industry for solving large scale, high resolution desktop display and liquid crystal TV applications.
The FFS liquid crystal display technology is mainly to generate a fringe electrical field with electrodes inside a pixel in a plane. Utilizing the fringe electrical field, the oriented liquid crystal molecules between the electrodes and right above the electrodes can be rotated, converted along the direction parallel with the substrate plane. Thus, the transmittance of the liquid crystal layer can be promoted. Under the premise of wide view angle, the high transmitting efficiency can be realized in advance. As shown in FIG. 1, the pixel structure of the FFS liquid crystal display according to prior art comprises a pixel electrode 11, a gate line 12 applying scan signals, a data line 13 applying data signals and a transistor switch 14. As shown in FIG. 1, the pixel electrode comprises a terminal electrode branch 11a and a plurality of sub electrodes 11b. The terminal electrode branch 11a is connected to the plurality of sub electrodes 11b. Crack structures exist among the plurality of sub electrodes 11b, which are employed as the flow openings of electrical field. Besides the sub electrode 11b comprises top and bottom two parts connecting with each other. The top and bottom two parts have V shape structures. Thus, as the voltage is applied to the pixel electrode, as shown in FIG. 2, the liquid crystal molecules 15 can be aligned along two different directions, and accordingly, the better wide view angle effect can be obtained.
When the liquid crystal display is compressed by a larger external stress, the alignment directions of the liquid crystal molecules 15 can be changed easily. Particularly, the liquid crystal molecules at the juncture of the top and bottom two parts of the sub electrode 11b where the electrical field is weaker can be influenced by the external force more easily. As shown in FIG. 3, as being compressed by the external stress, the alignment direction of the liquid crystal molecules 15′ corresponding to the top electrode part is changed from the upward twist in normal condition to the downward twist. However, because the top and bottom two parts of the sub electrode 11b connect with each other, the fringe electrical field generated at the juncture of the two parts of electrode is weaker, which causes that the liquid crystal molecules are hard to be controlled to be rapidly recovered to the normal twisted directions as the external force disappears. It results in the poor recovery of the liquid crystal molecules and the image quality is influenced. |
def _generate_param_dicts(self, num=None):
num_params = len(self.param_specs)
param_names = [ps.parameter_name for ps in self.param_specs]
param_values = [ps.values for ps in self.param_specs]
if num:
param_combinations = [[p.get_random() for p in self.param_specs]
for _ in range(num)]
else:
param_combinations = itertools.product(*param_values)
for param_combination in param_combinations:
param_dict = {}
for i in range(num_params):
param = param_combination[i]
param_name = param_names[i]
if isinstance(param, dict):
for key, value in param.items():
dict_param_name = param_name + '__' + key
param_dict[Substitution.convert_name(
dict_param_name)] = value
else:
param_dict[Substitution.convert_name(param_name)] = param
yield param_dict |
1. Field of the Invention
The present invention relates to an electronic climate control system suitable for use in automotive vehicles, and specifically to an electronic climate control system for an air conditioner with a by-pass door through which cooler air conditioner system air is directed to instrument panel/dash air ducts or discharge outlets, and an actuator serving to open or close a hot-water valve as well as the by-pass door.
2. Description of the Prior Art
In recent years, there have been proposed and developed various automated electronic climate control systems that control the heating, ventilation, and air conditioning systems within the passenger compartment. On modern automobiles, the mechanic/technician in the field have made efforts to provide a more complete bi-level mode. To ensure the more complete bi-level mode, the today's motorcar often employs a by-pass passage that is capable of delivering cool air flowing through an evaporator core directly to instrument panel/dash air ducts or discharge outlets such as side vents and center vents. The use of such a by-pass passage can ensure a forcible discharge of cool air through the by-pass passage to the discharge outlets with a by-pass door (usually provided at the outlet of the by-pass passage) opened. For the purpose of reducing the number of parts constructing an automobile air conditioner, the opening or closing action of the by-pass door and the opening or closing action of a hot-water valve (or a hot-coolant flow control valve that controls the engine coolant flow through a heat-exchanger core) are both done by means of a single actuator mechanically linked to both the by-pass door assembly and the hot-water valve unit. Usually, the single actuator is designed to fully close the hot-water valve when the by-pass door is fully opened. Referring to FIG. 5, there is shown a typical by-pass door opening/closing procedure programmed into a prior art electronic climate control system. In accordance with the by-pass door control procedure shown in FIG. 5, in step S20, Input information is read. The input information comprises various parameters such as a discharged-air outlet mode (simply discharge mode) selected by a mode select switch, a set in-car temperature selected by a vehicle occupant by rotating or sliding a temperature selector switch or dial, an in-car temperature (or a room temperature in the vehicular cabin), an outside (ambient) air temperature, an amount of insolation (or a sunload temperature), a current value of an opening of the by-pass door, a current value of an opening of an air-mix door, and the like. Thereafter, in step S21, a test is made to determine whether a mode-selection switch is positioned in a VENT mode. When step 21 determines the VENT mode, step S28 proceeds in which a test is made to determine if a so-called full-cool mode is selected. When the answer to step S28 is affirmative (YES), step S29 enters in which a by-pass door is fully opened to direct cool air leaving the evaporator core via the by-pass passage to plural ventilator ducts or nozzles. Conversely, when the answer to step S28 is negative (NO), step S30 enters in which the by-pass door is fully closed to block cool-air flow through the by-pass passage. In case of any operational mode (e.g. a DEFROST mode or FOOT mode) except the VENT mode, a target in-car temperature and a temperature deviation Sb between the target in-car temperature and a temperature of actual discharged air are both calculated in accordance with predetermined expressions respectively at steps S22 and S23. Thereafter, through a decision diamond S24, the opening or closing action of the by-pass door is controlled on the basis of the temperature deviation Sb. Concretely, in step S24, a test is made to determine whether the temperature deviation Sb (obtained through step S23) is greater than a predetermined upper threshold such as +2.degree. C., or less than a predetermined lower threshold such as -2.degree. C., or the temperature deviation Sb is within a deviation ranging from the predetermined lower threshold to the predetermined upper threshold. In case of Sb>+2.degree. C., that is, when the in-car temperature sensed is less than the target in-car temperature, step S25 proceeds in which the bypass door is shifted towards its closed position. In case of .vertline.Sb.vertline..ltoreq.2.degree. C., (-2.degree. C..ltoreq.Sb.ltoreq.+2.degree. C.), that is, when the in-car temperature sensed is almost equivalent to the target in-car temperature, step S26 proceeds in which the angular position of the by-pass door is maintained unchanged. In case of Sb<-2.degree. C., that is, when the in-car temperature sensed exceeds the target in-car temperature, step S27 proceeds in which the by-pass door is shifted towards its full-open position. The routine shown in FIG. 5 is repeatedly executed as time-triggered interrupt routines to be triggered every predetermined sampling time intervals, so as to control the discharged-air temperature towards the target in-car temperature. According to the by-pass door control procedure of FIG. 5, under a particular condition that a value of the deviation Sb continues to be below the lower threshold (e.g. -2.degree. C.), the by-pass door also continues to shift towards its full-open position. In such a case, in the event that the air conditioning system employs a single actuator connected to both a linkage of the hot-water valve and a linkage connected to the by-pass door for opening or closing action of the hot-water valve as well as the by-pass door, the hot-water valve remains closed with the by-pass door continuously kept at its full-open position, thereby shutting off hot-water supply into the heater core for a while. However, during the actual driving, the driver or vehicle occupant will often require any warm-air flow within towards the passenger compartment such as front foot vents or rear foot vents, under the previously-noted particular condition (with the by-pass door maintained at its full-open position for a while). For example, in case of a so-called BI-LEVEL mode at which the driver/passenger requires both cool-air flow through face ventilator ducts or nozzles (such as center ventilator ducts and side ventilator nozzles) and warm-air flow through foot vents (or floor outlets), it is unpreferable to shift to the fully-closed position of the hot-water valve in synchronization with shifting of the by-pass door to its full-open position. Similarly in case of a so-called DEFROST mode, it is required to provide both warm-air flow through defrost outlets such as side defroster dusts and front defroster nozzles and cold-air flow through ventilator ducts or nozzles, for the purpose of preventing any moist air from clouding the windshield and of preventing breath humidity from the driver or passengers and of removing moisture within the passenger compartment. As set forth above, according to the by-pass door control procedure of FIG. 5, since the hot-water valve is fully closed while the by-pass door is held in the full-open position, the system cannot provide a desired warm air flow from the foot vents or defroster ducts or nozzles for example in the BI-LEVEL mode and the DEFROST mode. That is to say, the conventional system as shown in FIG. 5 cannot satisfactorily provide cold and warm air flows desired. |
def csv_to_dict(csv_path):
df = pd.read_csv(csv_path)
data_dict = df.to_dict('list')
return data_dict |
package edu.brown.cs.systems.baggage;
import java.nio.ByteBuffer;
import java.util.Set;
import org.slf4j.Logger;
import org.slf4j.LoggerFactory;
import com.google.protobuf.ByteString;
import edu.brown.cs.systems.baggage.BaggageContents;
/** Simple use of the baggage to propagate string tags with a request.
* Useful for prototyping and as an example of how to use Baggage for your own namespace
*/
public class BaggageTags {
private static final Logger log = LoggerFactory.getLogger(BaggageTags.class);
/** Statically assign the namespace to use the byte '3' **/
public static final ByteString BAGGAGE_TAG_NAMESPACE = ByteString.copyFrom(new byte[] { 0x05 });
/** Within the BaggageTag namespace, there is only one field -- the tenant ID */
public static final ByteString TAG_ID_BAGGAGE_FIELD = ByteString.copyFrom(new byte[] { 0x01 });
/**
* Checks the baggage being propagated in the current thread to see whether
* it contains a tenant ID
*
* @return true if the current thread has a tenant ID, false otherwise
*/
public static boolean hasTenant() {
return BaggageContents.contains(BAGGAGE_TAG_NAMESPACE, TAG_ID_BAGGAGE_FIELD);
}
/**
* Get the current tenant ID from the baggage, if one is being propagated
*
* @return the tenant ID being propagated in the baggage, or 0 if no tenant
* is being propagated
*/
public static int[] getTenants() {
if (BaggageContents.contains(BAGGAGE_TAG_NAMESPACE, TAG_ID_BAGGAGE_FIELD)) {
Set<ByteString> tenantIds = BaggageContents.get(BAGGAGE_TAG_NAMESPACE, TAG_ID_BAGGAGE_FIELD);
if (tenantIds.size() >= 1) {
int[] tags = new int[tenantIds.size()];
int i = 0;
for (ByteString tenantId : tenantIds) {
if (tenantId.size() == 4) {
tags[i] = tenantId.asReadOnlyByteBuffer().getInt();
} else {
log.warn("Expected 4-byte tenantID, actually got {} bytes: {}", tenantId.size(), tenantId);
tags[i] = -1;
}
i++;
}
return tags;
}
// Remove erroneous tenant ID value
BaggageContents.remove(BAGGAGE_TAG_NAMESPACE, TAG_ID_BAGGAGE_FIELD);
}
return null;
}
/**
* Set the tenant ID for the current execution to the provided tenant ID
*
* @param tenantId
* the tenant ID to set for the current execution
*/
public static void setTenant(int tenantId) {
byte[] tenantIdBytes = ByteBuffer.allocate(4).putInt(tenantId).array();
BaggageContents.replace(BAGGAGE_TAG_NAMESPACE, TAG_ID_BAGGAGE_FIELD, ByteString.copyFrom(tenantIdBytes));
}
}
|
Body mass index and all-cause mortality in a large Chinese cohort. BACKGROUND Obesity is known to be associated with an increased risk of death, but current definitions of obesity are based on data from white populations. We examined the association between body mass index (BMI) and the risk of death in a large population of adult Chinese people. METHODS We examined the association between body mass index (BMI) and all-cause mortality prospectively among 58,738 men and 65,718 women aged 20 years and older enrolled in 1998-1999 from four national health screening centres in Taiwan. We used Cox proportional hazards regression analyses to estimate the relative risks of all-cause mortality for different BMI categories during a maximum follow-up of 10 years. RESULTS A total of 3947 participants died during the follow-up period. The lowest risk of death was observed among men and women who had a BMI of 24.0-25.9 (mean 24.9). After adjustment for age, smoking status, alcohol intake, betel-nut chewing, level of physical activity, income level and education level, we observed a U-shaped association between BMI and all-cause mortality. Similar U-shaped associations were observed when we analyzed data by age (20-64 or ≥ 65 years), smoking (never, < 10 pack-years or ≥ 10 pack-years) and presence of a pre-existing chronic disease, and after we excluded deaths that occurred in the first three years of follow-up. INTERPRETATION BMI and all-cause mortality had a U-shaped association among adult Chinese people in our study. The lowest risk of death was among adults who had a BMI of 24.0-25.9 (mean 24.9). Our findings do not support the use of a lower cutoff value for overweight and obesity in the adult Chinese population. |
<filename>src/main/java/epicsquid/roots/spell/SpellAcidCloud.java
package epicsquid.roots.spell;
import epicsquid.mysticallib.network.PacketHandler;
import epicsquid.roots.config.SpellConfig;
import epicsquid.roots.init.ModBlocks;
import epicsquid.roots.network.fx.MessageAcidCloudFX;
import epicsquid.roots.spell.modules.ModuleRegistry;
import epicsquid.roots.spell.modules.SpellModule;
import epicsquid.roots.util.types.Property;
import net.minecraft.entity.EntityLivingBase;
import net.minecraft.entity.player.EntityPlayer;
import net.minecraft.init.Items;
import net.minecraft.init.MobEffects;
import net.minecraft.item.EnumDyeColor;
import net.minecraft.item.Item;
import net.minecraft.item.ItemStack;
import net.minecraft.potion.PotionEffect;
import net.minecraft.util.DamageSource;
import net.minecraft.util.math.AxisAlignedBB;
import net.minecraft.util.text.TextFormatting;
import net.minecraftforge.fml.common.FMLCommonHandler;
import net.minecraftforge.oredict.OreIngredient;
import java.util.List;
public class SpellAcidCloud extends SpellBase {
public static Property.PropertyCooldown PROP_COOLDOWN = new Property.PropertyCooldown(10);
public static Property.PropertyCastType PROP_CAST_TYPE = new Property.PropertyCastType(EnumCastType.CONTINUOUS);
public static Property.PropertyCost PROP_COST_1 = new Property.PropertyCost(0, new SpellCost("baffle_cap", 0.250));
public static Property.PropertyDamage PROP_DAMAGE = new Property.PropertyDamage(5f);
public static Property<Integer> PROP_POISON_DURATION = new Property<>("poison_duration", 80);
public static Property<Integer> PROP_FIRE_DURATION = new Property<>("fire_duration", 5);
public static Property<Integer> PROP_POISON_AMPLIFICATION = new Property<>("poison_amplification", 0);
public static String spellName = "spell_acid_cloud";
public static SpellAcidCloud instance = new SpellAcidCloud(spellName);
private float damage;
private int poisonDuration;
private int poisonAmplification;
private int fireDuration;
public SpellAcidCloud(String name) {
super(name, TextFormatting.DARK_GREEN, 80f / 255f, 160f / 255f, 40f / 255f, 64f / 255f, 96f / 255f, 32f / 255f);
properties.addProperties(PROP_COOLDOWN, PROP_CAST_TYPE, PROP_COST_1, PROP_DAMAGE, PROP_POISON_DURATION, PROP_FIRE_DURATION, PROP_POISON_AMPLIFICATION);
}
@Override
public void init () {
addIngredients(
new ItemStack(Items.SPIDER_EYE),
new ItemStack(Item.getItemFromBlock(ModBlocks.baffle_cap_mushroom)),
new ItemStack(Items.DYE, 1, EnumDyeColor.LIME.getDyeDamage()),
new OreIngredient("blockCactus"),
new ItemStack(Items.ROTTEN_FLESH)
);
acceptModules(ModuleRegistry.module_fire);
}
@Override
public boolean cast(EntityPlayer player, List<SpellModule> modules) {
if (!player.world.isRemote) {
List<EntityLivingBase> entities = player.world.getEntitiesWithinAABB(EntityLivingBase.class,
new AxisAlignedBB(player.posX - 4.0, player.posY - 1.0, player.posZ - 4.0, player.posX + 4.0, player.posY + 3.0, player.posZ + 4.0));
for (EntityLivingBase e : entities) {
if (!(e instanceof EntityPlayer && !FMLCommonHandler.instance().getMinecraftServerInstance().isPVPEnabled())
&& !e.getUniqueID().equals(player.getUniqueID())) {
e.attackEntityFrom(DamageSource.causeMobDamage(player), damage);
if (SpellConfig.spellFeaturesCategory.acidCloudPoisoningEffect)
e.addPotionEffect(new PotionEffect(MobEffects.POISON, poisonDuration, poisonAmplification));
e.setRevengeTarget(player);
e.setLastAttackedEntity(player);
if(modules.contains(ModuleRegistry.module_fire)){
e.setFire(fireDuration);
}
}
}
PacketHandler.sendToAllTracking(new MessageAcidCloudFX(player.posX, player.posY + player.getEyeHeight(), player.posZ), player);
}
return true;
}
@Override
public void doFinalise() {
this.castType = properties.getProperty(PROP_CAST_TYPE);
this.cooldown = properties.getProperty(PROP_COOLDOWN);
this.damage = properties.getProperty(PROP_DAMAGE);
this.poisonAmplification = properties.getProperty(PROP_POISON_AMPLIFICATION);
this.poisonDuration = properties.getProperty(PROP_POISON_DURATION);
this.fireDuration = properties.getProperty(PROP_FIRE_DURATION);
}
}
|
def find_compr_tension_zones(section, neutral_axis, compr_above=True):
angle, y_int = gm.line_equation(neutral_axis)
if not neutral_axis.crosses(section):
cx, cy = list(section.centroid.coords)[0]
section_above = gm.evaluate_points(x=np.array([cx]), y=np.array([cy]),
angle_deg=angle, y_intersect=y_int)
if section_above:
compression_zone = section if compr_above else Polygon()
tension_zone = section if not compr_above else Polygon()
else:
compression_zone = section if not compr_above else Polygon()
tension_zone = section if compr_above else Polygon()
return compression_zone, tension_zone
zone1, zone2 = split(section, neutral_axis)
centroid_1, centroid_2 = zone1.centroid, zone2.centroid
x_centroids = np.array([centroid_1.x, centroid_2.x])
y_centroids = np.array([centroid_1.y, centroid_2.y])
zone1_above, zone2_above = gm.evaluate_points(x=x_centroids, y=y_centroids,
angle_deg=angle, y_intersect=y_int)
if zone1_above and not zone2_above:
if compr_above:
compression_zone, tension_zone = zone1, zone2
else:
compression_zone, tension_zone = zone2, zone1
elif zone2_above and not zone1_above:
if compr_above:
compression_zone, tension_zone = zone2, zone1
else:
compression_zone, tension_zone = zone1, zone2
else:
raise Exception('''Compression and tension zones relative to neutral axis
cannot be determined.''')
return compression_zone, tension_zone |
/**
* Metadata for an AWS region, including its name and what services
* are available in it.
*/
public final class Region {
private static final String DEFAULT_DOMAIN = "amazonaws.com";
private final String name;
private final String domain;
private final Map<String, String> serviceEndpoints =
new HashMap<String, String>();
private final Map<String, Boolean> httpSupport =
new HashMap<String, Boolean>();
private final Map<String, Boolean> httpsSupport =
new HashMap<String, Boolean>();
Region(final String name, final String domain) {
this.name = name;
if (domain == null) {
this.domain = DEFAULT_DOMAIN;
} else {
this.domain = domain;
}
}
/**
* Returns the region with the id given, or null if it cannot be found in
* the current regions.xml file.
*/
public static Region getRegion(Regions region) {
return RegionUtils.getRegion(region.getName());
}
/**
* The unique system ID for this region; ex: "us-east-1".
*
* @return The unique system ID for this region.
*/
public String getName() {
return name;
}
/**
* Returns the domain for this region; ex: "amazonaws.com".
*
* @return The domain for this region.
*/
public String getDomain() {
return domain;
}
/**
* Returns a map of the available services in this region and their
* endpoints. The keys of the map are service abbreviations, as defined in
* {@link ServiceAbbreviations}, and the values are the endpoint URLs.
*
* @return A map of the available services in this region.
*/
Map<String, String> getServiceEndpoints() {
return serviceEndpoints;
}
Map<String, Boolean> getHttpSupport() {
return httpSupport;
}
Map<String, Boolean> getHttpsSupport() {
return httpsSupport;
}
/**
* Returns the endpoint for the service given.
*
* @see ServiceAbbreviations
*/
public String getServiceEndpoint(String serviceName) {
return serviceEndpoints.get(serviceName);
}
/**
* Returns whether the given service is supported in this region.
*
* @see ServiceAbbreviations
*/
public boolean isServiceSupported(String serviceName) {
return serviceEndpoints.containsKey(serviceName);
}
/**
* Returns whether the given service support the https protocol in this region.
*
* @see ServiceAbbreviations
*/
public boolean hasHttpsEndpoint(String serviceName) {
return httpsSupport.containsKey(serviceName) && httpsSupport.get(serviceName);
}
/**
* Returns whether the given service support the http protocol in this region.
*
* @see ServiceAbbreviations
*/
public boolean hasHttpEndpoint(String serviceName) {
return httpSupport.containsKey(serviceName) && httpSupport.get(serviceName);
}
/**
* Creates a new service client of the class given and configures it. If
* credentials or config are null, defaults will be used.
*
* @param serviceClass
* The service client class to instantiate, e.g. AmazonS3Client.class
* @param credentials
* The credentials provider to use, or null for the default
* credentials provider
* @param config
* The configuration to use, or null for the default
* configuration
*
* @see ServiceAbbreviations
*/
public <T extends AmazonWebServiceClient> T createClient(Class<T> serviceClass,
AWSCredentialsProvider credentials,
ClientConfiguration config) {
Constructor<T> constructor;
T client;
try {
if ( credentials == null && config == null ) {
constructor = serviceClass.getConstructor();
client = constructor.newInstance();
} else if ( credentials == null ) {
constructor = serviceClass.getConstructor(ClientConfiguration.class);
client = constructor.newInstance(config);
} else if ( config == null ) {
constructor = serviceClass.getConstructor(AWSCredentialsProvider.class);
client = constructor.newInstance(credentials);
} else {
constructor = serviceClass.getConstructor(AWSCredentialsProvider.class, ClientConfiguration.class);
client = constructor.newInstance(credentials, config);
}
client.setRegion(this);
return client;
} catch ( Exception e ) {
throw new RuntimeException("Couldn't instantiate instance of " + serviceClass, e);
}
}
@Override
public boolean equals(Object obj) {
if ( obj instanceof Region == false )
return false;
Region region = (Region) obj;
return this.getName().equals(region.getName());
}
@Override
public int hashCode() {
return getName().hashCode();
}
@Override
public String toString() {
return getName();
}
} |
The bulk of that money goes to saving a national park in Mozambique called Gorongosa. As recently as 15 years ago, the park had fewer than 1,000 hoofed animals, thanks to wars and poverty. Humans made (or felt they had to make) choices that obliterated the animal population. Twenty years of war meant soldiers traipsing through the Gorongosa nature preserve; they had to eat, and the hoofed animals were available.
Elephants, hippos, antelope, buffalo and waterbuck all disappeared. After the war finished, a few animals returned, but humans continued to decimate them. Villagers surrounding the preserve faced starvation, so they scoured the land for food. Once again, human choices and needs overwhelmed the animals’ survival.
Thanks to a major benefactor, Idaho’s Greg Carr, and efforts of many partnerships, the park has come back.
Villages surrounding the preserve now are part of an increasingly thriving economic network and ecosystem. Skills training, education and jobs that support tourism mean villagers don’t need to eat the animals. The control of poaching fosters animal survival. Today, Gorongosa is again becoming one of the world’s greatest national parks, with more than 80,000 hoofed animals.
It is a remarkable story of turning science, economics and cultural sensitivity into actions to stop what could have been widespread extermination and extinction of several species.
Partly to celebrate, and partly to help us learn more about the park, Zoo Boise is raising funds to build a Gorongosa exhibit. It will bring a little bit of the Mozambican park to us, including some of my favorite Gorongosa animals: African wild dogs, crowned cranes and warthogs.
The campaign is in its final days to raise money to receive a matching $1.5 million. (I’ve made a donation). Let’s hope they make it. |
<reponame>dmorr041/Java_Masterclass
package academy.learnprogramming;
public class Main {
public static void main(String[] args) {
Car porsche = new Car();
Car mcLaren = new Car();
porsche.setModel("911 GT");
System.out.println(porsche.getModel());
BankAccount myAccount = new BankAccount();
myAccount.withdrawFunds(100.00);
myAccount.depositFunds(50);
myAccount.withdrawFunds(100);
Wall wall = new Wall(1.125, -1.0);
System.out.println(wall.getHeight());
System.out.println(wall.getWidth());
Point p = new Point(1, 1);
Point p2 = new Point(2, 3);
System.out.println(p.distance(-1, -1));
}
}
|
A shuffled message-passing decoding method for memory-based LDPC decoders The convergence speed of shuffled message passing decoding (MPD) is faster than that of standard two phase message passing (TPMP) decoding. Due to complex memory access and requirement of large storage space, the shuffled MPD is not suitable for hardware implementation especially for high-rate LDPC codes. In this paper, we propose a modified shuffled MPD which can achieve a similar convergence speed but with reduced complexity in memory access and storage space as compared to the conventional shuffled MPD. We implement a rate-5/6 LDPC decoder based on the proposed algorithm. |
#include <stdio.h>
#define MAX 1010101
#define ll long long
char *s, *p;
ll left, right;
int i;
int main ()
{
s = (char *)(malloc(MAX)); p = s;
left = right = 0; i = 0;
scanf ( "%s", s );
while ( *s != '^' ) ++ s;
while ( s != p )
{
-- s; ++ i;
if ( *s >= '0' && *s <= '9' )
left += (ll)(*s-'0') * i;
}
while ( *s != '^' ) ++ s; i = 0;
while ( *s )
{
++ s; ++ i;
if ( *s >= '0' && *s <= '9' )
right += (ll)(*s-'0') * i;
}
if ( left > right ) puts ( "left" );
else if ( right > left ) puts ( "right" );
else puts ( "balance" );
return 0;
}
|
<filename>cli/flag.go
/*
Copyright 2017 Caicloud Authors
Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
You may obtain a copy of the License at
http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
limitations under the License.
*/
package cli
import (
"os"
"strings"
"github.com/spf13/pflag"
)
const (
underline = "_"
)
var (
// UnderlineReplacer replace dash of underline
UnderlineReplacer = strings.NewReplacer("-", "_")
)
var (
automaticEnvApplied bool
envKeyReplacer *strings.Replacer
envPrefix string
)
// Flag describes a flag interface
type Flag interface {
// IsPersistent specify whether the flag is persistent
IsPersistent() bool
// GetName returns the flag's name
GetName() string
// ApplyTo adds the flag to a given FlagSet
ApplyTo(*pflag.FlagSet) error
}
// AutomaticEnv has Mamba check ENV variables for all.
// keys set in config, default & flags
func AutomaticEnv() {
automaticEnvApplied = true
}
// SetEnvKeyReplacer sets the strings.Replacer on the viper object
// Useful for mapping an environmental variable to a key that does
// not match it.
func SetEnvKeyReplacer(r *strings.Replacer) {
envKeyReplacer = r
}
// SetEnvPrefix defines a prefix that ENVIRONMENT variables will use.
// E.g. if your prefix is "spf", the env registry will look for env
// variables that start with "SPF_". Only work for automatic env
func SetEnvPrefix(in string) {
if in != "" {
envPrefix = in
}
}
func mergeWithEnvPrefix(key string) string {
if envKeyReplacer != nil {
key = envKeyReplacer.Replace(key)
}
if envPrefix != "" {
connector := underline
if strings.HasSuffix(envPrefix, underline) {
connector = ""
}
return strings.ToUpper(envPrefix + connector + key)
}
return strings.ToUpper(key)
}
// getEnv tries to get envKey from env. otherwise returns defValue.
// you must convert the return value to the type you want.
//
// if env key is "", and AutomaticEnv is set, mamba will try to generate
// env key by merging name with envPrefix.
// finally, if the key is "" or key is not set in env, returns the defValue.
func getEnv(name, envKey string, defValue interface{}) interface{} {
if envKey == "" && automaticEnvApplied {
envKey = mergeWithEnvPrefix(name)
}
if envKey == "" {
return defValue
}
e, ok := os.LookupEnv(envKey)
if ok {
return e
}
return defValue
}
|
def _get_or_create_plot_data(data, plotdata):
valid_names = plotdata.list_data()
if not isinstance(data, basestring):
name = plotdata.set_data("", data, generate_name=True)
else:
if data not in valid_names:
msg = '{} is not an existing name for plot data'
raise ValueError(msg.format(data))
name = data
return name |
A Bizarre Electrocardiographic Pattern Due to Chronic Lithium Therapy Cardiotoxicity that results from lithium overdose is uncommon and electrocardiographic (ECG) changes are rarely reported. However, some authors have specifically reported the occurrence of ischemic ECG changes due to a lithium overdose. This article describes a case that is demonstrating ECG changes that mimic inferior myocardial infarction during the course of chronic lithium treatment and showing QTc prolongation in this patient. The patients ECG changes were partially recovered after hemodialysis. |
The Regulation of RNA Modification Systems: The Next Frontier in Epitranscriptomics? RNA modifications, long considered to be molecular curiosities embellishing just abundant and non-coding RNAs, have now moved into the focus of both academic and applied research. Dedicated research efforts (epitranscriptomics) aim at deciphering the underlying principles by determining RNA modification landscapes and investigating the molecular mechanisms that establish, interpret and modulate the information potential of RNA beyond the combination of four canonical nucleotides. This has resulted in mapping various epitranscriptomes at high resolution and in cataloguing the effects caused by aberrant RNA modification circuitry. While the scope of the obtained insights has been complex and exciting, most of current epitranscriptomics appears to be stuck in the process of producing data, with very few efforts to disentangle cause from consequence when studying a specific RNA modification system. This article discusses various knowledge gaps in this field with the aim to raise one specific question: how are the enzymes regulated that dynamically install and modify RNA modifications? Furthermore, various technologies will be highlighted whose development and use might allow identifying specific and context-dependent regulators of epitranscriptomic mechanisms. Given the complexity of individual epitranscriptomes, determining their regulatory principles will become crucially important, especially when aiming at modifying specific aspects of an epitranscriptome both for experimental and, potentially, therapeutic purposes. Introduction For over half a century, chemical RNA modifications have been known to exist in RNA. For most of this time, these modifications were considered to be chemical additions to the sequence of primarily non-coding RNAs (ncRNAs) which affected their biogenesis, stability and, likely, function. Curiously, various modifications had also been detected in coding RNAs, namely N7-methylguanosine (m 7 G), N6-methyladenosine (m 6 A), inosine (I), ribose methylation (Nm) and poly-A additions, indicating the potential for a regulatory role in messenger RNAs (mRNAs). Research on mRNA modifications lay largely dormant for many years with the exception of RNA editing (C-to-U and later A-to-I) due to the relatively easy detection by DNA and RNA sequencing. Then, a thought-provoking commentary in 2010 boldly suggested the existence of molecular mechanisms, called "RNA epigenetics", which, akin to epigenetics affected RNA functionally. This idea was based on the earlier identification of an -ketoglutarate-dependent dioxygenase activity (AlkB) that was able to demethylate not only m 6 A-modified DNA but also m 6 A-modified RNA. This finding together with the identification of another enzymatic activity capable of removing m 6 A from RNA provided the necessary spark that triggered renewed interest in chemical modifications, especially in their the regulatory potential for mRNAs. Between then and now, feverishly productive years have resulted in an impressive number of studies reporting on links between specific types of RNA modifications and many essential biological processes. Importantly, the discovery of dedicated molecular machineries that can dynamically change RNA identity led to coining the terms "epitranscriptome" and "epitranscriptomics". Ever since, proteins installing specific RNA modifications are called writers, activities that modify or even remove the same modification are considered to be modifiers/erasers, and proteins that interpret the RNA modification signature are called readers. Accordingly, the resulting transcriptome-wide RNA modification landscape, established by a particular epitranscriptomic machinery, is now called an epitranscriptome. There is still semantic confusion in the field. Some authors are calling only specific and reversible mRNA modifications, containing carbon-nitrogen bonds (i.e., m 6 A(m), m 1 A) as epitranscriptomic. Others use the term for any RNA modification, be it terminally or internally placed on any RNA including non-coding RNAs. Despite of these semantic issues, determining individual epitranscriptomes (through 'epitranscriptomics') is now a rapidly developing field that is (currently) focused on a limited number of RNA modifications (m 6 A, m 5 C, m 1 A,, m 7 G, and Nm; structural information in ). This limitation does exist because reliable and reproducible detection of a given RNA modification is a key requirement when studying the biological impact of RNA modifications. Hence, during the last 10 years, the major share in epitranscriptomics research was invested in the development of mass spectrometry-and sequencing-based methodologies to map specific RNA modifications. This technological progress has resulted in extensive and transcriptome-wide studies and the publication of large data sets originating from different cell types, tissues and organisms. Importantly, RNA modifications have also been associated with human health. In particular, deregulation of particular writers, readers and modifiers/erasers, and thereby specific epitranscriptomes, has been observed in multiple human cancers and various diseases (reviewed in ). Rather than reiterating the extensive amount of accumulated knowledge here, the interested reader is referred to the multitude of excellent reviews written on the available technologies and the consequences of mutations in epitranscriptomic circuitry [25,26,. Instead, this article aims at highlighting some of the open questions in epitranscriptomics with a focus on the need to better understand the regulation of the enzymes that establish, modulate and erase individual epitranscriptomes. While the existence of RNA modifications and their effects on RNA functionality is measurable, our understanding as to how specific epitranscriptomes are established, dynamically modulated and partially erased is very much incomplete. To better define epitranscriptomic mechanisms and to be able to decipher their phenotypic consequences, one basic prerequisite is reproducibly determining individual epitranscriptomes. As of now, many of the published efforts to map specific epitranscriptomes (mapping the same RNA modification transcriptome-wide) have produced contradictory primary data sets. This has resulted in an "uneasy" debate about the limitations of current technologies and, importantly, how to draw conclusions from the existing data sets . Yet constantly, an increasing number of modification mapping experiments is being published (still using debated technology ), along with descriptions of a staggering variety of RNA modification-dependent phenotypes. In contrast, few follow-up studies have been published that utilized the available mapping data as basis for addressing the biological impact of a specific RNA modification in a specific RNA at a specific position. Notable exceptions are studies on the functional consequences of RNA editing, which can draw on reproducible mapping data produced by multiple (and independent) laboratories. Inaccurate mapping of any RNA modification will greatly affect all experimental conclusions, hypothesis building, and importantly, ongoing bioinformatics efforts to predict RNA modification patterns in silico. A persistent question, therefore, is how to reliably map specific epitranscriptomes, not only in reproducible fashion but also sufficiently robust to technical variation. Stoichiometry: How Many Molecules Need to Be Modified for Biological Impact? The biological impact of specific RNA modifications likely depends on the percentage of individual transcripts that are modified. For instance, a modification affecting RNA stability is unlikely to have impact if only a few transcripts are modified. On the other hand, a modification such as A-to-I editing at a specific mRNA position resulting in the translation of a particular protein isoform, might have major impact even when produced at low levels. Quantitative measurements revealed that the relative levels of various eukaryotic mRNA modifications (other than RNA editing) were: 0.2 to 0.6% for m 6 A/A, 0.015 to 0.054% for m 1 A/A, 0.025 to 0.1% for m 5 C/C, 0.001-0.004% for hm 5 C/C, 0.2-0.6% for /U, and only 0.003% for m 6 Am/all nucleosides (listed and individually referenced in ). These are rather low values. And even though m 6 A is repeatedly mentioned as the most abundant mRNA modification, the actual values translate into 1 to 3 m 6 Amodifiations per 1000 nucleotides of an mRNA. Do these values represent nucleotides from a fraction of RNAs with the same sequence (sub-stoichiometric modification) or is every RNA molecule modified, yet is only expressed in a few cells (stoichiometric modification)? State-of-the-art liquid chromatography-mass spectrometry (LC-MS) methods allow the absolute quantification of individual RNA modifications. However, this technology still requires relatively large (and pure) quantities of the RNA analyte, making it unsuitable for high-throughput analyses. Therefore, sequencing-based methods will need to be developed for determining the stoichiometry of RNA modifications in complex and lowinput samples. Methods such as site-specific cleavage and radioactive-labelling followed by ligation-assisted extraction and thin-layer chromatography (SCARLET) and m 6 A-level and isoform-characterization sequencing (m 6 A-LAIC-seq) can be used to quantify m 6 A/A levels at candidate loci and in transcriptome-wide fashion. Furthermore, RiboMeth-Seq allows quantitative insights into ribose methylation (Nm) levels at specific sites. Also, RNA bisulfite sequencing, a method allowing the mapping of m 5 C at single nucleotide resolution, could be used to quantify the ratio of m 5 C/C in specific transcripts. However, when using sequencing-based approaches for quantitative RNA modification measurements, it will be crucially important to include unique molecular identifiers (UMIs) during sample preparation, a technical detail that was often not included in existing RNA modification mapping data. RNA Modification Come and Go: Constitutive or Dynamic Signatures? Epitranscriptomics has largely been defined by the transcriptome-wide interrogation of one specific epitranscriptome at a given time. With respect to occurrence, stoichiometry and latency in the same RNA sequence, the obtained results allow conceptually separating at least two categories of epitranscriptomic signatures. In one category, RNA modifications can be detected in almost every sequence of a specific RNA class, type or species. For instance, every functional mRNA contains specific terminal RNA modifications such as m 7 G at cap structures and non-templated poly-A-tails. Individual tRNAs, rRNAs and snRNAs contain invariant RNA modifications at specific positions with high stoichiometry indicating that these modifications are constitutive (reviewed in ). In contrast, RNA modifications are also detectable at sub-stoichiometric levels suggesting that their placement is not constitutive but (dynamically) regulated. This notion is supported by observations showing that RNA modifications at specific positions can differ quantitatively, especially in response to particular cellular, developmental or environmental changes. Convincing examples exist for A-to-I editing, which, while constitutive in repetitive RNAs, appears to be dynamically modulated in particular mRNAs. Another intriguing example is the developmental stage-dependent activity of Initiator of Meiosis 4 (IME4), the yeast homolog of mammalian METTL3, mediating m 6 A only during meiosis and sporulation in Saccharomyces cerevisiae. Recent evidence indicated that also microbiome-dependent regulation of eukaryotic RNA modifications. The micronutrient queuine, produced by prokaryota, is not only a precursor for substituting guanosine with queuosine (Q) in specific tRNAs, but placement of Q also affects m 5 C levels at specific tRNA positions. It follows that future epitranscriptomics would gain from incorporating any context-relevant information (cellular, developmental, environmental, disease) when publishing and depositing RNA modification mapping data into databases. The Multi-Substrate/Promiscuity Problem The chemical universe of RNA modifications is rather complex but most known modification reactions involve methylation groups, followed by isomerizations and deamination reactions. Many of the enzymes with the potential to modify RNAs have been only bioinformatically identified and await characterization. However, various knockout or knockdown approaches addressing specific epitranscriptomic systems followed by transcriptome-wide determination of respective epitranscriptomes have revealed the substrate specificity for a select number of writers and modulators/erasers. While many enzymes modifying ncRNAs such as tRNAs, rRNAs or small nuclear RNAs (snRNAs) appear to have limited and often evolutionary conserved substrate specificity, others display pronounced substrate promiscuity. Examples for limited substrate specificity are highly conserved enzymes such as particular members of the NOP2/Sun domain (NSUN) or methyltransferase-like (METTL) family of proteins targeting single nucleotides in rRNAs, tRNAs and snRNAs. Another writer displaying minimal substrate specificity is Apolipoprotein B mRNA-editing enzyme 1 (APOBEC-1), which mediates the C-to-U deamination of only one position in apolipoprotein B (apoB) mRNA. Expanded substrate specificity is represented highly promiscuous NSUN family members targeting various cytosolic and mitochondrial tRNAs, other small ncRNAs and hundreds of different mRNAs. Similarly, various pseudo-uridine synthetases (PUS) modify miRNAs, tRNAs and mRNAs, and the METTL3/METTL14 complex addresses hundreds to thousands of different mRNAs, pri-miRNAs, long ncRNAs as well as circular RNAs (circRNAs). The most extended multisubstrate RNA modification enzymes are the adenosine deaminases acting on RNA (ADARs) targeting hundreds to millions of adenosines. Such substrate promiscuity complicates obtaining a more detailed understanding of a given epitranscriptomic system since it will remain unclear whether the modification of a particular position in only one RNA species or the combination of different positions in different RNAs is causative for an observed phenotype. Hence, an important but unresolved question in epitranscriptomics remains: how to experimentally address RNA modifications in specific RNAs without modulating the rest of the respective epitranscriptome? Phenotypic Pleiotropy: Boon or Bust for Deciphering the Impact of Epitranscriptomes? To gain first insights into the impact of specific epitranscriptomes on cellular processes, "early-stage" epitranscriptomics has mostly employed classic reverse genetics. Gene-specific knockout or overexpression constructs have been used to interfere with or enhance the function of various writers, readers or modifiers/erasers). Especially, one RNA modification, the addition of a methyl group onto adenosine resulting in m 6 A, has become the "flagship" modification for most of current epitranscriptomics. m 6 A writers, readers and modifiers/erasers have been genetically manipulated in different cells, tissues and organisms. The wide range of reported phenotypes indicated that modulating this particular RNA modification system is affecting literally every aspect in cell biology but raises also important conceptual questions. Just to make the point, here is a non-exhaustive list of processes affected when interfering with m 6 A RNA modification systems: proliferation, mRNA splicing and adipogenesis, RNA stability, mRNA translation and decay, mitotic entry, DNA damage response, circadian rhythm, signaling pathways, oocyte maturation, maternal-zygotic transition, sex determination, spermatogenesis, reprogramming to pluripotency, stem cell renewal and differentiation, tumorigenicity and cancers [137,149,, yet also anti-tumor immunity, neural development and differentiation, axon regeneration, neurotransmitter-related circuitry, learning and memory, CNS myelination, neural development, miRNA processing and viral infection. The combination of these observations has mostly been interpreted as proof for the notion that m 6 A in RNA is necessary and crucially required for cellular functions. However, the sum of the observed phenotypes points both at experimental and conceptual problems. Specifically, the sheer scope of affected biological processes indicates that classic knockdown or knockout approaches makes it virtually impossible to separate cause from consequence. Phenotypic pleiotropy, albeit more limited, has also been observed when modulating other epitranscriptomic systems as those responsible for A-to-I editing (reviewed in ), for m 5 C (reviewed in ), for (reviewed in ) and for Nm (reviewed in ). In summary, phenotypic pleiotropy suggest that interfering with gene products with multi-substrate promiscuity and acting upstream of a complex system of effectors is not necessarily resulting in a better understanding of that particular system. How then should one interrogate the impact of an RNA modification without completely removing its writers, readers or modulators/erasers from a complex system? Dynamic RNA Modifications Likely Require Context-Specific Regulation The observed substrate promiscuity of writers and modulators/erasers, the dynamic nature as well as the sub-stoichiometric levels of some RNA modifications suggest that the components of RNA modification systems are subject to regulation. This article will ignore regulatory principles such as gene expression since expression changes cannot explain how different RNA species are modified at varying stoichiometries by the same enzyme within the same cell. Hence, the following paragraphs will focus on the post-transcriptional and post-translational regulation of epitranscriptomic activities through changes in their subcellular localization, interactions with proteins and/or RNAs, protein modifications and the availability of co-factors. Subcellular Localization: Regulated or by Chance? The enzymes establishing and modulating/erasing RNA modifications as well as their RNA substrates need to find each other within cells. While this is rather obvious, many text books still define the interior of a cell, including subcellular compartments, as spaces filled with molecules, which find each other stochastically and thereby by chance. How do epitranscriptomic systems that affect most RNAs sub-stoichiometrically come together? Most RNAs undergo either co-or post-transcriptional modification, close to the source of transcription, as part of elaborate processing and maturation steps (reviewed in ). Some RNAs, such as snRNAs and tRNAs, are not only modified in the nucleus, but become exported into the cytoplasm for additional modifications before being reimported into the nuclear compartment to undergo final processing (reviewed in ). These observations indicate a network of RNA modification enzymes residing in various cellular compartments. However, proteins do also dynamically change localization. Examples for intracellular trafficking of RNA modification activities are substrate-promiscuous enzymes. For instance, particular ADAR isoforms reside exclusively in the nucleus while others shuttle in and out of the nucleus or can be detected in stress-or infection-induced subcellular structures (reviewed in ). Another example is the complex localization pattern of NSUN2 (a promiscuous cytosine-5 RNA methyltransferase), which is mostly nucleolar but is also imported into the mitochondrial matrix. In addition, NSUN2 re-localizes to different subcellular regions depending on the cell cycle stage and on environmental stress exposure. Furthermore, individual members of the pseudo-uridine synthetase (PUS) protein family display diverse localization patterns (reviewed in ). And, last but not least, context-dependent and complex subcellular localization has also been revealed for writers and modulators/erasers of m 6 A (reviewed in ). Currently, defining the subcellular localization of the various components of epitranscriptomic circuitry is largely focused on proteins rather than RNAs. However, there is ample evidence for the regulated and dynamic localization of individual RNAs within cells (reviewed in ). The potential influence of RNA localization on (sub-stoichiometric) RNA modification levels is an exciting but still unexplored possibility. Hence, future attempts that aim at understanding epitranscriptomic systems might consider not only addressing the localization of writers, modulators and erasers, but also determine the localization of specific substrate RNAs. In doing so, one should preferably be implementing single molecule imaging techniques, which can distinguish single nucleotide changes/modifications such as fluorescent in-situ hybridization (FISH) techniques involving hybridization chain reaction (HCR), or click-encoded rolling FISH (ClickerFISH, ), which could be combined with in vivo RNA localization approaches (reviewed in ). Combining in vivo localization of specific RNAs with the systematic analysis of spatially restricted proteomes in a particular cell type and context (reviewed in ) will allow determining the subcellular details of "where and when" epitranscriptomic systems act. Guiding Epitranscriptomic Activities: Context-Dependent Protein-Protein Interactions Mutating the most upstream components of various RNA modification systems (writers or modifiers/erasers) has resulted in pleiotropic phenotypes, which are hard to interpret mechanistically. In order to modulate epitranscriptomic signatures in a more targeted fashion, determining the downstream interactions of writers and modifiers/erasers would allow defining points of interference that would not necessarily result in removing an entire epitranscriptome. Besides protein-protein interactions that determine the localization of epitranscriptomic activities (and thereby their substrate choice), specific interactions could also directly inhibit or enhance of their catalytic function. Some efforts have already been made towards determining how the most abundant RNA modifications such as m 6 A,, or A-to-I could be regulated through interacting proteins. While various writers were able to modify RNAs under minimal in vitro assay conditions, not unexpectedly, those proteins acted in multiprotein complexes in vivo. For instance, the core components of the m 6 A system for modifying mRNAs (METTL3 and METTL14) form a heterodimeric writer complex, which methylate RNAs in vitro. In this complex, METTL3 is the catalytically active subunit while METTL14, unable to bind the essential co-factor S-adenosyl-methionine (SAM), plays a structural role that is critical for substrate recognition. This suggests that context-dependent interactions of METTL14 could greatly affect the activity of METTL3. Importantly, interactions with the splicing factor WTAP and (so far) five more proteins (VIRMA, RBM15/RBM15B, ZC3H13 and HAKAI) are required for localization to nuclear speckles and m 6 A deposition on mRNA in vivo (reviewed in ). It was proposed that these accessory proteins are directing methylation specificity towards coding and non-coding RNAs through interaction with particular RNA-binding proteins. Similar conclusions can be drawn for the A-to-I editing system, in which the function of a catalytically inactive ADAR family member (ADAR3) is thought to be regulating other ADARs, for instance by binding to and blocking substrate RNAs. Similarly, ADARs (A-to-I editing) and PUS () can act as stand-alone enzymatic activities in vitro, but interact with a plethora of proteins in vivo (reviewed in ). While these findings are not surprising, the challenge now lies in how to disentangle this complexity in order to better understand the effects of individual protein interactors on the activity of particular writers and modifiers/erasers in vivo. In order to do so, more systematic approaches are needed, preferably by in vivo mapping using advanced proximity biotinylation and ligation techniques (reviewed in ), and in combination with cross-linking mass spectrometry, which allows delineating the interaction surfaces of interacting proteins but also reveals structural information (reviewed in ). Non-Coding RNAs: Guides and Modulators of Epitranscriptomic Activities RNA-guided processing or degradation of DNAs and RNAs is evolutionary conserved. For instance, bacteria and archaea produce RNAs from genomically encoded "clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats" (CRISPR), which served as guide RNAs (gRNAs) for CRISPR-associated (Cas) proteins. Cas proteins act as endonucleases, which upon being guided to complementary DNA or RNA sequences, degrade such sequences (reviewed in ). Particular Cas proteins can also target and degrade RNAs (reviewed in ). Similar to CRISPR-Cas systems, eukaryotic RNAi pathways require small RNAs (microRNAs, miRNAs; small interfering RNAs, siRNAs; piwi-associated RNAs, piRNAs) to guide particular proteins (Argonautes) towards their RNA targets resulting in sequence-specific processing or degradation of complementary nucleic acids (reviewed in ). Importantly, enzymes writing or modulating/erasing RNA modifications can interact with non-substrate RNAs resulting not only in guiding but potentially also in the modulation of their activities. A prominent example for how RNA modification enzymes are guided by RNAs was discovered in Trypanosoma brucei. In trypanosomes, many mitochondrial RNAs undergo post-transcriptional uridine insertions and deletions as a prerequisite for the production of functional messengers. The information for these RNA editing processes is provided by trans-acting small RNAs guiding a multiprotein complex to particular positions in the mitochondrial transcriptome (reviewed in ). Later, it was found that gRNA-mediated RNA modifications are not restricted to protozoa nor to the process of RNA editing. A common theme for the underlying mechanisms is the assembly of multiprotein complexes that are guided by RNAs to base-pair with target RNAs and thereby direct modification of specific ribonucleotides. For instance, hundreds of gRNAs have been identified that target activities introducing Nm and into various RNAs and different species. These small gRNAs have been named small nucleolar RNAs (snoRNAs) and classified into box C/D RNAs, directing Nm and box H/ACA RNAs that target activities to introduce. A representative example is U6 snRNA, which acquires eight Nm and three for full functionality. The introduction of such gRNAmediated modifications are highly conserved in respect to sequence context and their existence affect the processing and function of ribosomal RNAs as well as spliceosomal snRNAs (reviewed in ). Importantly, small RNAs can not only guide but could also affect the activity of RNA modification enzymes on their substrate RNAs. While there is not much evidence for this scenario yet, one example is snoRNA (SNORD115), which targets Nm to an ADAR2-mediated pre-mRNA editing site, thereby specifically interfering with ADAR2 activity. Furthermore, ADAR1 interacts through one of its three dsRNA binding domain with the nuclear import receptor (Transportin 1), which is mutually exclusive with binding to substrate dsRNAs suggesting that the availability of specific dsRNAs can determine the localization and thereby the substrate choice of this writer. In this respect, it is also noteworthy that not all RNAs that are targeted by various writers and modifiers/erasers need to be substrate RNAs with a biological function. A case in point is the sub-stoichiometric activity of the (cytosine-5) methyltransferases NSUN2 and NSUN6 in mRNAs resembling the sequence contexts and structures of their respective tRNA substrates. This observation raises the question as to whether these sites represent consequential mRNA modifications or are (only) off-targets, which could affect the activity of these enzymes on tRNAs. While these selected examples highlight the potential for RNAs to affect the localization, protein interactions and substrate specificity of RNA modification enzymes, the challenge lies now in complement the mapping of direct targets for a particular epitranscriptomic systems with additional RNA interactions that could have regulatory function. Approaches such as artificial intelligence-based predictions trained by chemical context profiling, proximity labelling in subcellular compartments combined with protein-RNA crosslinking together with monitoring the activity of writers/modifiers/erasers on specific RNAs will likely uncover which RNAs affect the activity of RNA modification circuitry in a specific subcellular compartment and biological context. Post-Translational Modifications of Epitranscriptomic Activities Even though post-translational modifications (PTMs) occur in most proteins including RNA modification enzymes, specific PTMs might be an inroad into experimentally addressing the specificity and dynamic nature of epitranscriptomic activities. To date, a role of PTMs for the turnover, localization and catalytic activity of selected writers and modifiers/erasers has been reported. For instance, ADAR1 isoforms are subjected to context-dependent PTMs such ubiquitination resulting in proteasomal degradation, or phosphorylation facilitating exportin 5-mediated transport into the cytoplasm. In addition, nuclear import of ADAR2 requires phosphorylation, which, if disturbed, results in poly-ubiquitination by E3 ligase activities and proteasomal degradation. Furthermore, fat mass and obesity-associated protein (FTO), an eraser of m 6 A, can become SUMOylated at a single lysine residue, which promotes FTO degradation thereby affecting the balance between adenosine methylation and demethylation. Also, direct effects on RNA modification activities have been observed. For instance, SUMOylation of ADAR1 can reduce its editing activity without causing degradation or altering the subcellular localization. Furthermore, the catalytic subunit of the m 6 A methyltransferase complex (METTL3) can be modified by small ubiquitin-like modifier 1 (SUMO1) at various lysine residues both in vitro and in vivo. These PTMs did neither affect METTL3 stability, localization nor the interaction with METTL14/WTAP but inhibited m 6 A deposition on mRNAs. However, the impact of many existing PTMs remains unclear. For instance, mutating individual phosphorylation sites in METTL3 or METTL14 did not affect heterodimer formation or the catalytic activity of METTL3 on model substrates suggesting context-specific effects that cannot be observed in vitro. Hence, more systematic approaches need to be implemented to obtain a better understanding of the impact of PTMs on individual epitranscriptomes in vivo. This could involve combinatorial studies such as global profiling of PTMs in whole and, importantly, context-specific proteomes (reviewed in ). Once, context-specific PTMs on writers and modifiers/erasers are known, the generation of site-specific substitutions and structural mimics (reviewed in ), by using genome-editing tools, will facilitate functional in vivo studies. Co-factor Requirements and Context-Dependent Metabolic Interactions Most known RNA modifications involve enzymatic reactions attaching specific chemical moieties to nucleic acids. Importantly, these reactions require the availability of co-factors or co-substrates, many of which are provided by micronutrients (i.e., vitamins and minerals) either through dietary intake or specific microbial activities (reviewed in ). It follows that the availability of such co-factors and co-substrates will affect many RNA modifications. Since about 70 % of all known RNA modifications contain one or more methyl groups, methyl donors such as S-adenosylmethionine (SAM), are of utmost importance for efficient RNA methylation (reviewed in ). Indeed, it has been shown that limiting micronutrient levels, including SAM depletion, have major impact on cell growth. In addition, SAM and its demethylation product, S-adenosyl-homocysteine (SAH), are integral molecules in the folate and methionine cycles. Products of this so-called one-carbon metabolism are crucially important for basic processes such as the biosynthesis of phospholipids, polyamines and nucleotides, amino acid homeostasis, the redox defense system, and, importantly, for nucleic acid and protein methylation (reviewed in ). Because of its central role in cellular functions, the one-carbon metabolism is tightly regulated. This includes feed-back and feed-forward mechanisms that respond to changes and imbalances in nutrition, stress exposure or aging. Interestingly, the synthesis of SAM appears to be under the control of epitranscriptomic mechanisms. For instance, SAM depletion resulted in reduced m 6 A in the 3' UTR of MAT2A, encoding a ubiquitous mammalian SAM synthetase, and its concomitant upregulation through splicing-dependent mRNA stabilization. Furthermore, manipulation of the cytosine-5 RNA methyltransferase NSUN2 resulted in changes in the methionine and tricarboxylic acid (TCA) cycles as well as synthetic pathways for amino acids. Specifically, higher levels of methionine and SAM were observed in NSUN2 mutant cells indicating changes in the output of the methionine cycle. In addition, RNAs can interact with various metabolic enzymes (reviewed in ). The reason for these interactions are not completely understood but it has been proposed that RNAs (and their modification status) could act as sensors for cellular changes that require metabolic adjustments (reviewed in ). These observations underscore the intriguing complexity involving RNAs, epitranscriptomic activities and metabolic pathways (reviewed in ). Some even might explain the phenotypic pleiotropy when manipulating epitranscriptomic systems since metabolite-mediated (secondary) effects including epigenome and gene expression changes have been reported. To start disentangling the (direct or indirect) interplay of RNA modification systems with metabolic pathways, more sophisticated experimentation than gene knockout studies followed by gene expression analyses will be required. This might include context-dependent manipulation of particular writers or modifiers/erasers, for instance by targeted protein degradation (reviewed in ), and the concurrent measurement of metabolic and gene expression patterns by combining single cell transcriptomics and metabolomics (reviewed in ). The Next Frontier: Getting a Closer Look at the Details The last 10 years have defined yet another frontier in molecular biology, the existence of epitranscriptomes. Early efforts in epitranscriptomics have been awarded with regular publicity, mostly for developing technologies that allow mapping individual epitranscriptomes at transcriptome-wide fashion. In addition, first insights into the impact of specific epitranscriptomic systems have produced a breath-taking picture of their immense complexity. However, both the accumulation of epitranscriptomic mapping data as well as the multitude of phenotypes resulting from malfunctioning RNA modification systems, have caused another kind of scientific competition. Rather than paving the way for more detailed and in-depth studies of specific (and known) RNA modification signatures, the amount of data and its complexity appears to deter from being used when formulating and testing new hypotheses. This is at odds with the immense amount of compiled mapping data and some of the precision tools now available that would allow "digging into the data". Rather than doing that, a large fraction of the field focuses on only one particular RNA modification system, the m 6 A system modulating mRNAs, and reports with regularity on its involvement in anything that resonates with the notion that biology does not work without m 6 A-modified mRNAs. Another fraction is in "discovery mode" continuously "hunting" for "novel" RNA modifications by mass spectrometry or sequencing-based approaches. In contrast, a minority fraction in the field is conducting experiments aimed at investigating the impact of particular RNA modifications in specific RNAs. Some examples for the latter are studies on the impact of A-to-I editing at specific sites in specific RNAs in particular human disease models, the analysis of how specific RNA modifications affect innate immune responses (reviewed in ), or the impact of chemical modifications on RNA structures. These approaches are facilitated by the recent development of in vivo methodology allowing site-specific introduction of RNA modifications or their removal [251,, by the use of nucleoside analogues (reviewed in ) and through variations of single molecule imaging techniques allowing to query positional information on modified RNAs. A guiding example as to how continuous investment in deciphering the molecular details of the impact of particular RNA modifications can result in amazing knowledge leaps is the recent breakthrough for RNA-based therapeutics including the development and approval of mRNA vaccines, which could not have happened without focusing on the impact of particular modifications on RNA stability and interactions with the innate immune system. Is the use of modified mRNAs in vaccine development all of what RNA modifications can teach us about biology, the ingenuity of human adaptability, technological progress and disease? Likely not. However, in order to move epitranscriptomics from an emerging and experimentally tractable phenomenon to one that can be better understood, the experimental focus needs to divert from counting numbers to addressing the mechanistic details of the modification reactions preferably with atomic scale resolution. To do so, better definitions of the biological, developmental and environmental context in which particular epitranscriptomic systems modulate RNA identity need to be incorporated into experimental designs. Furthermore, the context-dependent regulation of specific RNA modification activities needs to be systematically addressed, preferably by utilizing the great variety of established vertebrate and non-vertebrate model organisms, which offer many advantages over mammalian (cancer) cells constantly (evolving) in culture. Most importantly, structural knowledge will be required as the very prerequisite for an in-depth understanding of any RNA modification system. While some studies have addressed the structural basis for the activity of particular RNA modification enzymes, largely focusing on m 6 A and circuitry, more efforts will have to be made to determine the structures of other RNA modification enzymes, preferably in combination with their respective RNA substrates. This will result in arriving at a more solid understanding of the structurefunction relationships between RNAs and enzymes that determine the complexities of individual epitranscriptomes. |
//encCalc calcule encrypted data to request
func encCalc(readCounter, writeCounter int, key, ti, data []byte) ([]byte, error) {
rCountB1 := byte((readCounter >> 8) & 0xFF)
rCountB2 := byte(readCounter & 0xFF)
wCountB1 := byte((writeCounter >> 8) & 0xFF)
wCountB2 := byte(writeCounter & 0xFF)
ivEnc := make([]byte, 0)
ivEnc = append(ivEnc, ti...)
for i := 0; i < 3; i++ {
ivEnc = append(ivEnc, rCountB2)
ivEnc = append(ivEnc, rCountB1)
ivEnc = append(ivEnc, wCountB2)
ivEnc = append(ivEnc, wCountB1)
}
block, err := aes.NewCipher(key)
if err != nil {
return nil, err
}
modeE := cipher.NewCBCEncrypter(block, ivEnc)
if len(data)%16 != 0 {
data = append(data, byte(0x80))
}
for len(data)%16 != 0 {
data = append(data, byte(0x00))
}
dataE := make([]byte, len(data))
modeE.CryptBlocks(dataE, data)
return dataE, nil
} |
#include "stdafx.h"
#include "DeleteItemCommand.h"
#include "ImageFileStorage.h"
DeleteItemCommand::DeleteItemCommand(
size_t index,
std::vector<std::shared_ptr<DocumentItem>>& items,
const std::shared_ptr<IImageFileStorage>& storage)
: m_index(index)
, m_item(nullptr)
, m_items(items)
, m_storage(storage)
, m_deleteImageFlag(false)
{
}
DeleteItemCommand::~DeleteItemCommand()
{
if (m_deleteImageFlag)
{
try
{
m_storage->Delete(m_item->GetImage()->GetPath());
}
catch (...)
{
}
}
}
void DeleteItemCommand::ExecuteImpl()
{
m_item = m_items.at(m_index);
m_items.erase(m_items.begin() + m_index);
if (m_item->GetImage())
{
m_storage->SetCopyFlag(m_item->GetImage()->GetPath(), false);
m_deleteImageFlag = true;
}
}
void DeleteItemCommand::UnexecuteImpl()
{
m_items.insert(m_items.begin() + m_index, m_item);
if (m_item->GetImage())
{
m_storage->SetCopyFlag(m_item->GetImage()->GetPath(), true);
m_deleteImageFlag = false;
}
m_item = nullptr;
}
|
<reponame>obi-two/GameServer
// This file is part of SWGANH which is released under the MIT license.
// See file LICENSE or go to http://swganh.com/LICENSE
#pragma once
#include "boundary_layer.h"
#include <glm/glm.hpp>
namespace swganh
{
namespace tre
{
/**
Boundary poly line class. It is used to restrict the extent of any of its parent's
layers.
*/
class BoundaryPolyline : public BoundaryLayer
{
public:
virtual void Deserialize(swganh::ByteBuffer& buffer);
virtual bool IsContained(float px, float pz);
virtual float Process(float px, float pz);
protected:
std::vector<glm::vec2> verts;
float line_width;
float max_x, max_z, min_x, min_z;
};
}
}
|
TOPEKA - Kansas will join a lawsuit against the federal agency that's listing the lesser prairie chicken as a threatened species, Gov. Sam Brownback announced Friday, saying the designation isn't necessary to rebuild the bird's population.
Oklahoma filed a federal lawsuit last week against the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, challenging the agency's process in considering the listing. Brownback said Kansas expects to enter the lawsuit next week and again said the service's action is an "overreach" by the federal government that will harm the Kansas economy and intrude into residents' daily lives.
Brownback and state wildlife Secretary Robin Jennison said the action isn't necessary because the five states with lesser prairie chicken habitats - Kansas, Colorado, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Texas - worked for several years with the federal agency on a conservation plan. The federal agency praised that plan in announcing the listing Thursday.
Kansas officials said they fear the federal agency will use its authority to impose new restrictions on farming, ranching, oil, natural gas and wind-energy production in areas where the lesser prairie chicken roams. But Ron Klataske, executive director of Audubon of Kansas, said state officials are overreacting and called their response to the listing "absurd."
Because the federal agency hasn't published the rule associated with the listing yet, Jennison acknowledged that state officials don't yet know all the full implications. But when reporters pressed him about whether federal oversight might not turn out to be as strict as state officials fear, Jennison said, "It will."
"It's the declaration of 'threatened.' That's the line that we did not want them to come across," Brownback said. "They went ahead and did it."
Brownback stopped short of endorsing a bill passed by the state Senate declaring the federal government has no authority to manage prairie chickens within Kansas and making it a felony for a federal employee to enforce a federal law, rule or treaty on the birds.
The federal agency declined to comment because of Oklahoma's lawsuit. But in Thursday's announcement, agency Director Don Ashe announced said it would impose an extraordinary rule to recognize "significant" efforts by the states and landowners, allowing the states to manage conservation efforts. Ashe said listing the lesser prairie chicken as threatened instead of endangered would allow for more flexibility.
The federal agency said there were fewer than 18,000 lesser prairie chickens across the five states in 2013, down almost 50 percent from 2012. State officials contend the biggest reason is drought, and Jennison said prairie chicken numbers will increase when Kansas returns to "a normal weather pattern."
"Our scientists are as good as their scientists, and our scientists understand Kansas much better than theirs do," Jennison said.
But Klataske said the listing will still permit the states to manage conservation efforts. Their joint plan is designed to boost the lesser prairie chicken's population to 67,000.
He accused Brownback and Jennison of "grandstanding."
"You've got to create an imaginary dragon and then declare that you're going to go slay it," Klataske said. "This is a Chicken Little declaration or cry that the sky is going to fall."
Klataske also said the federal agency should retain oversight because Kansas has made plans to boost black-tailed prairie dog and black-footed ferret numbers, but his group sees the follow through as lacking.
"The state of Kansas currently has no credibility when it comes to dealing with threatened or endangered species," Klataske said. |
The acetochlor registration partnership: prospective ground water monitoring program. The Acetochlor Registration Partnership conducted a prospective ground water (PGW) monitoring program to investigate acetochlor transport to ground water at eight sites. The distribution of soil textures among these sites was weighted toward coarser soil types, while also including finer-textured soils that dominate most corn (Zea mays L.)-growing areas of the United States. Each site consisted of a 1.2-ha test plot adjacent to a 0.2-ha control plot. Suction lysimeters and monitoring wells were installed at multiple depths within each test and control plot to sample soil-pore water and near-surface ground water. Irrigation was applied to each site during the growing season to ensure water input of 110 to 200% of average historical rainfall. Acetochlor dissipated rapidly from surface soils at all sites with a DT (time for 50% of the initial residues to dissipate) of only 3 to 9 d, but leaching was not an important loss mechanism, with only 0.25% of the 15,312 soil-pore water and ground water samples analyzed containing parent acetochlor at or above 0.05 microg L(-1). However, quantifiable residues of a soil degradation product, acetochlor ethanesulfonic acid, were more common, with approximately 16% of water samples containing concentrations at or above 1.0 microg L(-1). A second soil degradation product, acetochlor oxanilic acid, was present at concentrations at or above 1.0 microg L(-1) in only 0.15% of water samples analyzed. The acetochlor PGW program demonstrated that acetochlor lacks the potential to leach to ground water at detectable concentrations, and when applied in accordance with label restrictions, is unlikely to move to ground water at concentrations hazardous to human health. |
<gh_stars>0
/*
* Licensed to the University Corporation for Advanced Internet Development,
* Inc. (UCAID) under one or more contributor license agreements. See the
* NOTICE file distributed with this work for additional information regarding
* copyright ownership. The UCAID licenses this file to You under the Apache
* License, Version 2.0 (the "License"); you may not use this file except in
* compliance with the License. You may obtain a copy of the License at
*
* http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
*
* Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
* distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
* WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
* See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
* limitations under the License.
*/
package edu.internet2.middleware.shibboleth.idp.session;
import java.io.Serializable;
import org.joda.time.DateTime;
/** Information about a service a user has logged in to. */
public interface ServiceInformation extends Serializable {
/**
* Gets the unique identifier for the service.
*
* @return unique identifier for the service
*/
public String getEntityID();
/**
* Gets the time the user logged in to the service.
*
* @return time the user logged in to the service
*/
public DateTime getLoginInstant();
/**
* Gets the authentication method used to log into the service.
*
* @return authentication method used to log into the service
*/
public AuthenticationMethodInformation getAuthenticationMethod();
/**
* Gets the principal name identifier for the service.
*
* @return name identifier
*/
public String getNameIdentifier();
/**
* Gets the principal name identifier format.
*
* @return name identifier format
*/
public String getNameIdentifierFormat();
/**
* Gets the name qualifier for the name identifier.
*
* @return name qualifier
*/
public String getNameQualifier();
/**
* Gets the SP name qualifier for the name identifier.
*
* @return SP name qualifier
*/
public String getSPNameQualifier();
} |
Extending e-books with annotation, online support and assessment mechanisms to increase efficiency of learning The Internet and web environment allow readers to read online many multimedia books. Readers can annotate, collaborate, and discuss content using efficient reading functions. Reading is migrating from printed books to e-books. This study designs an online reading environment with a wide range of support to increase students' learning performance. Online knowledge and human resources are used to answer directly students' queries. Students' annotating behaviors are analyzed as to help them understand the results of their learning earlier on. Experimental results reveal the extent to which students' reading behaviors shift from the printed book to this system using online reading time analysis. Data and questionnaire results show that students think that the system is conveniently and efficiently for them to annotate and propose query strings to knowledge repository and to discussion forum. In assessing reading performance, analysis of students' annotation results can forecast examination grades with 75.5 accuracy. Such analysis helps teachers and students to increase teaching and learning efficiencies. |
Move over, Google: the latest version of Apple’s iOS search assistant, Siri, uses Microsoft’s Bing for searches.
Eddy Cue, senior vice president of Internet Software and Services for Apple, showed off the Bing integration as part of the announcements at its Worldwide Developer Conference (WWDC) on Monday, inserting it into the discussion without fanfare.
While that revelation may be a small one compared to Apple’s other WWDC announcements — iOS 7, OS X “Mavericks”, and a refreshed MacBook Air, among others—it's a big one for Microsoft, which has significantly trailed Google in terms of overall search share. In April, about 66.5 percent of U.S. searches were performed using Google’s sites, compared to 17.3 percent for Microsoft, according to comScore. Historically, Siri has defaulted to Google, although you could still order it to search via Bing or other search providers.
But if Microsoft can’t win by competing directly against Google, its new strategy could be to flank it: The company has inked search deals with Yahoo, and Bing is the search engine for Facebook’s Graph Search as well. It’s too early to tell whether the deals are paying off, as Microsoft continues to report losses within its online division, albeit decreasing ones. Research firm comScore reported that Microsoft’s U.S. search share is now 17.3 percent, up almost half a percentage point from a month ago.
However, Microsoft’s role in its relationships with Apple and Facebook is essentially a backstop. If Facebook can’t supply an answer to a query itself, it defaults to Bing, and Microsoft can serve up its own results. As an example, a user can search for “friends that live in Chicago,” and Facebook will generate a list of the user’s friends that live in the Windy City. But if Facebook can’t answer the query, “where can I eat in Chicago, ” those results are fulfilled by Bing.
Because Apple and Facebook have a vested interest in making sure that those results aren’t lost to Bing, the arrangement seems designed to deliver a smaller share of searches to Microsoft over time. For example, one might think that the phrase “pizza restaurants in Chicago” might automatically refer a search to Bing. But Facebook taps into its own social graph, parsing it for references to pizza restaurants in Chicago, and returning results within its own context. Likewise, a search for “best pizza restaurant in Chicago” makes a recommendation based on its users’ Likes.
Yahoo’s relationship with Microsoft is more direct, as Bing powers Yahoo’s search results. However, with Yahoo, Microsoft hasn’t been able to deliver the search traffic that Yahoo has contractually required. Microsoft guaranteed Yahoo’s revenue per search on its properties for 18 months after the transition of its paid search services to Microsoft’s platform. But Yahoo, although it signed an extension of the deal with Microsoft last month, reportedly hasn’t been happy with the deal and has sought a way out.
Nevertheless, a Bing-Siri deal, as well as future integrations with search-like services, could mean that Microsoft slowly gains share over time. It's a strategy worth watching.
Correction: One of the search metrics was misattributed to Google. It should have been attributed to comScore.
iOS 7 sports a revolutionary new design, under-the-hood features like Control Center and card-based multitasking, and app updates. |
Planetary x-ray auroras X-rays have been observed from many solar system objects (i.e., Venus, Earth & Moon, Mars, Jupiter & several Galilean satellites, Saturn & its rings, lots of comets, and the heliopause). However, only Jupiter and Earth are currently known to emit auroral x-rays (although there is a hint of such emission from Saturn). X-ray auroras on Earth are primarily bremsstrahlung emissions produced by precipitating electrons and have been studied extensively at higher energies from spacecraft (e.g., Polar/PIXIE). Recent observations of Earths x-ray aurora by Chandra provide a much higher resolution look at the lower energy portion of this bremsstrahlung. X-ray auroras on Jupiter are produced by the precipitation of energetic O and S ions from a source region just inside the magnetopause (rather than from just outside the Io Plasma Torus, as was originally believed). Recent work suggests that precipitating electron bremsstrahlung also contributes to Jupiters x-ray aurora at higher ( >2 keV) energies. This talk will review the recent observations of soft x-ray auroras on Earth and Jupiter. |
import tower_cli
from tower_cli.exceptions import TowerCLIError
from tower_cli.cli.transfer import common
from tower_cli.conf import settings
from tower_cli.utils import parser
from tower_cli.resources.role import RESOURCE_FIELDS
import click
class Receiver:
def receive(self, all=False, asset_input=None):
exported_objects = self.export_assets(all, asset_input)
stdout = click.get_text_stream('stdout')
if settings.format == 'human' or settings.format == 'json':
import json
stdout.write(json.dumps(exported_objects, indent=2))
elif settings.format == 'yaml':
import yaml
stdout.write(parser.ordered_dump(exported_objects, Dumper=yaml.SafeDumper, default_flow_style=False))
else:
raise TowerCLIError("Format {} is unsupported".format(settings.format))
stdout.write("\n")
def export_assets(self, all, asset_input):
# Extract and consolidate all of the items we got on the command line
assets_to_export = common.get_assets_from_input(all, asset_input)
# These will be returned from this method
exported_objects = []
for asset_type in assets_to_export:
# Load the API options for this asset_type of asset
types_api_options = common.get_api_options(asset_type)
# Now we are going to extract the objects from Tower and put them into an array for processing
acquired_assets_to_export = []
identifier = common.get_identity(asset_type)
# Now we are either going to get everything or just one item and append that to the assets_to_export
if assets_to_export[asset_type]['all']:
resources = tower_cli.get_resource(asset_type).list(all_pages=True)
if 'results' not in resources:
continue
acquired_assets_to_export = acquired_assets_to_export + resources['results']
else:
for name in assets_to_export[asset_type]['names']:
try:
resource = tower_cli.get_resource(asset_type).get(**{identifier: name})
except TowerCLIError as e:
raise TowerCLIError("Unable to get {} named {} : {}".format(asset_type, name, e))
acquired_assets_to_export.append(resource)
# Next we are going to loop over the objects we got from Tower
for asset in acquired_assets_to_export:
# If this object is managed_by_tower then move on
if 'managed_by_tower' in asset and asset['managed_by_tower']:
continue
# Resolve the dependencies
common.resolve_asset_dependencies(asset, asset_type)
# Create a new object with the ASSET_TYPE_KEY and merge the options in from the object we got
exported_asset = {common.ASSET_TYPE_KEY: asset_type}
common.map_node_to_post_options(types_api_options, asset, exported_asset)
# Clean up any $encrypted$ values
common.remove_encrypted_values(exported_asset)
# Special cases for touch up
if asset_type == 'project':
# Exported projects that are not manual don't need a local path
common.remove_local_path_from_scm_project(exported_asset)
# Next we are going to go after any of
for relation in tower_cli.get_resource(asset_type).related:
if common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY not in exported_asset:
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY] = {}
if relation == 'workflow_nodes':
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] = common.extract_workflow_nodes(asset)
elif relation == 'survey_spec':
survey_spec = tower_cli.get_resource(asset_type).survey(asset['id'])
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] = survey_spec
elif relation == 'host' or relation == 'inventory_source':
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] = \
common.extract_inventory_relations(asset, relation)['items']
elif relation == 'group':
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] = \
common.extract_inventory_groups(asset)['items']
elif relation == 'notification_templates':
for notification_type in common.NOTIFICATION_TYPES:
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][notification_type] = \
common.extract_notifications(asset, notification_type)
elif relation == 'credentials':
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] =\
common.extract_credentials(asset)['items']
elif relation == 'schedules':
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] =\
common.extract_schedules(asset)['items']
elif relation == 'labels':
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY][relation] =\
common.extract_labels(asset)['items']
# If this asset type is in the RESOURCE_FIELDS of the Role object than export its roles
if asset_type in RESOURCE_FIELDS:
if common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY not in exported_asset:
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY] = {}
exported_asset[common.ASSET_RELATION_KEY]['roles'] = common.extract_roles(asset)['items']
# Finally add the object to the list of objects that are being exported
exported_objects.append(exported_asset)
return exported_objects
|
<filename>src/pages/Intro.ts<gh_stars>0
import { DomNode, el } from "@hanul/skynode";
export default class Intro extends DomNode {
constructor() {
super("section.intro");
this.append(
el("h2", "What are FoxPunks?"),
el("header",
el("img", { src: "/images/0.png", height: "200" }),
el("p", "FoxPunks is a Profile Picture (PFP) project based on Binance Smart Chain. It has 10,000 cute random generative foxes. Each FoxPunk is comprised of a unique body, hat, face and outfit - the possibilities are endless! Our goal is to establish a foxverse by making cute foxes widely known to people. Many foxes are waiting for their owners. Everyone! Please be the owner of the fox.")
),
);
}
}
|
Health Minister Manto Tshabalala-Msimang on Friday said her efforts to promote a healthy lifestyle—including responsible drinking habits—among South Africans were not hypocritical.
Speaking to the media at the launch of “the Healthy Lifestyle Day” in Port Shepstone, she questioned why the media linked her recent liver transplant to her promotion of a healthy lifestyle.
She said she believed that the proposed health-warning labels on alcohol products would reduce alcohol abuse and dependence.
Within the next year alcoholic beverages would carry health messages “highlighting the negative effects of alcohol consumption”.
Asked if she would consider an outright ban on alcohol to eliminate alcohol abuse instead of simply increasing prices, she said such a ban was against the Constitution.
“You have the right to kill yourself if you want to,” she said.
Alcoholic beverages could not have the word “health or other words claiming that the alcoholic beverage has health properties”.
A reduction in alcohol consumption, she said, would also lead to a reduction in violence and road accidents.
Before arriving at Gamalakhe Further Education Training College, the minister walked about a kilometre with school children, who on arrival at the college broke out into the spontaneous singing of Umshini Wami, the trademark song of African National Congress president Jacob Zuma.
Addressing a crowd of about 5 000, including nearly 1 000 school children, Tshabalala-Msimang said a recent World Health Organisation report had shown that the consumption of cigarettes in South Africa had decreased from two billion cigarette packs in 1990 to 1,3-billion packs in 2005.
She said the report indicated that at least 40% of the decrease was attributable to the increased price of cigarettes. |
<filename>pride/pride.py
#!/usr/bin/env python3
# -*- coding: utf8, -*-
"""python-PRIDE
Simple implementation of PRIDE in python 3.
This implementation does *not* make any claims regarding security!
See https://eprint.iacr.org/2014/453
https://github.com/thomwiggers/python-pride
Author: <NAME>
Licence: BSD
"""
from __future__ import print_function, unicode_literals
import six
from itertools import chain
__all__ = ['Pride']
def xor(a, b):
"""Compute the xor of two arrays
>>> xor([1,0,1], [0, 1, 0])
[1, 1, 1]
"""
assert len(a) == len(b)
return [x ^ y for (x, y) in zip(a, b)]
class Pride(object):
"""Implements PRIDE
Usage::
>>> from binascii import unhexlify, hexlify
>>> p = Pride(unhexlify(b'00000000000000000000000000000000'))
>>> hexlify(p.encrypt(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000'))
... ) == b'82b4109fcc70bd1f'
True
>>> hexlify(p.encrypt(unhexlify(b'ffffffffffffffff'))
... ) == b'd70e60680a17b956'
True
>>> hexlify(p.decrypt(unhexlify(b'd70e60680a17b956'))
... ) == b'ffffffffffffffff'
True
>>> p = Pride(unhexlify(b'ffffffffffffffff0000000000000000'))
>>> hexlify(p.encrypt(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000'))
... ) == b'28f19f97f5e846a9'
True
>>> p = Pride(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000ffffffffffffffff'))
>>> hexlify(p.encrypt(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000'))
... ) == b'd123ebaf368fce62'
True
>>> p = Pride(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000fedcba9876543210'))
>>> hexlify(p.encrypt(unhexlify(b'0123456789abcdef'))
... ) == b'd1372929712d336e'
True
Identity:
>>> hexlify(p.decrypt(p.encrypt(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000')))
... ) == b'0000000000000000'
True
"""
def __init__(self, key):
if not len(key) == 16 or not (isinstance(key, six.binary_type) or
isinstance(key, bytearray)):
raise ValueError("Incorrect key format")
self.rounds = 20
key = bytearray(key) # python 2 support
self.k_1 = key[8:]
self.k_0 = key[:8]
self.k_2 = self.k_0
def encrypt(self, plain_text):
if not (isinstance(plain_text, six.binary_type)
and len(plain_text) == 8):
raise ValueError("argument should be an 8-byte bytearray")
plain_text = bytearray(plain_text) # python 2 support
state = _permute_inverse(plain_text)
state = xor(state, self.k_0)
for i in range(1, self.rounds):
round_key = _key_derivation(self.k_1, i)
state = _round_function_enc(state, round_key)
round_key = _permute_inverse(_key_derivation(self.k_1,
self.rounds))
state = xor(state, round_key)
state = _apply_sbox(state)
state = _permute(xor(state, self.k_2))
return bytearray(state)
def decrypt(self, cipher_text):
cipher_text = bytearray(cipher_text) # python 2 str support
if not len(cipher_text) == 8:
raise ValueError("argument should be an 8-byte bytearray. "
"Type: %s, Length: %d" % (type(cipher_text),
len(cipher_text)))
state = _permute_inverse(cipher_text)
state = xor(state, self.k_2)
state = _apply_sbox_inverse(state)
state = xor(state, _permute_inverse(_key_derivation(self.k_1,
self.rounds)))
for i in reversed(range(1, self.rounds)):
round_key = _key_derivation(self.k_1, i)
state = _round_function_dec(state, round_key)
state = _permute(xor(state, self.k_0))
return bytearray(state)
def _round_function_enc(state, round_key):
"""Encryption round function
>>> from binascii import unhexlify
>>> k = _key_derivation(unhexlify(b'0000000000000000'), 1)
>>> _round_function_dec(
... _round_function_enc(unhexlify(b'ffffffffffffffff'), k), k)
[255, 255, 255, 255, 255, 255, 255, 255]
"""
state, round_key = bytearray(state), bytearray(round_key) # py2 support
round_key = _permute_inverse(round_key)
state = xor(state, round_key)
state = _apply_sbox(state)
state = _permute(state)
state = [state[1] | state[0] << 8, state[3] | state[2] << 8,
state[5] | state[4] << 8, state[7] | state[6] << 8]
state[0] = _apply_matrix(_L0, state[0])
state[1] = _apply_matrix(_L1, state[1])
state[2] = _apply_matrix(_L2, state[2])
state[3] = _apply_matrix(_L3, state[3])
state = list(
chain.from_iterable(((x & 0xff00) >> 8, x & 0xff) for x in state))
state = _permute_inverse(state)
return state
def _round_function_dec(state, round_key):
"""Decryption round function"""
state, round_key = bytearray(state), bytearray(round_key) # py2 support
state = _permute(state)
state = [state[1] | state[0] << 8, state[3] | state[2] << 8,
state[5] | state[4] << 8, state[7] | state[6] << 8]
state[0] = _apply_matrix(_L0_inverse, state[0])
state[1] = _apply_matrix(_L1_inverse, state[1])
state[2] = _apply_matrix(_L2_inverse, state[2])
state[3] = _apply_matrix(_L3_inverse, state[3])
state = list(
chain.from_iterable(((x & 0xff00) >> 8, x & 0xff) for x in state))
state = _permute_inverse(state)
state = _apply_sbox_inverse(state)
round_key = _permute_inverse(round_key)
state = xor(state, round_key)
return state
def _permute(state):
r"""Permute state
>>> _permute(bytearray([0xff] * 8))
bytearray(b'\xff\xff\xff\xff\xff\xff\xff\xff')
>>> _permute(bytearray([0x88] * 4 + [0x00] * 4))
bytearray(b'\xff\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00')
>>> _permute(bytearray([0x44] * 8))
bytearray(b'\x00\x00\xff\xff\x00\x00\x00\x00')
>>> _permute(bytearray([0x11] * 8))
bytearray(b'\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\xff\xff')
>>> _permute(bytearray([0x00] * 4 + [0x11] * 4))
bytearray(b'\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\x00\xff')
>>> import random
>>> state = bytearray([random.randint(0,255) for i in range(8)])
>>> _permute_inverse(_permute(state)) == state
True
>>> _permute_inverse(
... _permute(bytearray(b'\x12\x34\x56\x78\x90\xab\xcd\xef'))) == (
... bytearray(b'\x12\x34\x56\x78\x90\xab\xcd\xef'))
True
"""
state = bytearray(state) # python 2 support
source = list(chain.from_iterable(
(((state[i] & 0xf0) >> 4, state[i] & 0xf) for i in range(8))))
state_ = [0] * 4
for i in range(4):
for s in range(16):
state_[i] |= (source[s] & (2**(3-i))) >> (3-i) << (15-s)
newstate = [0] * 8
for i in range(4):
newstate[2 * i] = (state_[i] & 0xff00) >> 8
newstate[2 * i + 1] = (state_[i] & 0xff)
return bytearray(newstate)
def _permute_inverse(state):
r"""Reverse a permutation
>>> _permute_inverse([0x00] * 6 + [0xff] * 2)
bytearray(b'\x11\x11\x11\x11\x11\x11\x11\x11')
>>> _permute_inverse([0xff] + [0x00] * 7)
bytearray(b'\x88\x88\x88\x88\x00\x00\x00\x00')
>>> _permute_inverse([0, 0, 255, 255, 0, 0, 0, 0]) == bytearray([0x44]*8)
True
"""
state_ = [0x0] * 16
source = (state[1] | state[0] << 8, state[3] | state[2] << 8,
state[5] | state[4] << 8, state[7] | state[6] << 8)
for i in range(16):
for s in range(4):
state_[i] |= (source[s] & (2**(15-i))) >> (15-i) << (3-s)
result = [a << 4 | b for (a, b) in zip(state_[::2], state_[1::2])]
return bytearray(result)
def _apply_matrix(matrix, state):
"""Apply one of the permutation matrices
>>> import random
>>> state = random.randint(0,0xFFFF)
>>> _apply_matrix(_L0_inverse, _apply_matrix(_L0, state)) == state
True
>>> _apply_matrix(_L1_inverse, _apply_matrix(_L1, state)) == state
True
>>> _apply_matrix(_L2_inverse, _apply_matrix(_L2, state)) == state
True
>>> _apply_matrix(_L3_inverse, _apply_matrix(_L3, state)) == state
True
>>> _apply_matrix(_L0, 0b0101101011010111) == 0b000111110000010
True
"""
state_ = []
for row in matrix:
newrow = 0
for i in range(16):
if row[i] == 1:
newrow ^= (state & (2**(15-i))) >> (15-i)
state_.append(newrow)
x = 0
for j in range(16):
x |= state_[j] << (15-j)
return x
def _apply_sbox(state):
"""sbox lookup for 8x8bit registers
>>> _apply_sbox(
... [0x01, 0x23, 0x45, 0x67, 0x89, 0xab, 0xcd, 0xef]) == (
... [0x04, 0x8f, 0x15, 0xe9, 0x27, 0xac, 0xbd, 0x63])
True
"""
for i in range(8):
x = state[i]
state[i] = _sbox(x & 0xF) | _sbox((x & 0xF0) >> 4) << 4
return state
def _apply_sbox_inverse(state):
"""sbox lookup for 8x8bit registers
>>> _apply_sbox_inverse(
... [0x04, 0x8f, 0x15, 0xe9, 0x27, 0xac, 0xbd, 0x63]) == (
... [0x01, 0x23, 0x45, 0x67, 0x89, 0xab, 0xcd, 0xef])
True
"""
for i in range(8):
x = state[i]
state[i] = _sbox_i(x & 0xF) | _sbox_i((x & 0xF0) >> 4) << 4
return state
def _sbox(bits):
"""Sbox lookup.
UNSAFE in scenarios where cache timing is possible
>>> _sbox(0xf)
3
>>> _sbox(0x8)
2
"""
return _Sbox_table[bits]
def _sbox_i(bits):
"""Sbox lookup.
UNSAFE in scenarios where cache timing is possible
>>> _sbox_i(0x0)
0
>>> _sbox_i(0x1)
4
>>> _sbox_i(0x6)
14
"""
return dict(((x, i) for (i, x) in enumerate(_Sbox_table)))[bits]
def _key_derivation(k_1, round_):
"""Subkey derivation function f_i
>>> _key_derivation([0] * 8, 0)
[0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0]
>>> _key_derivation([0] * 8, 1)
[0, 193, 0, 165, 0, 81, 0, 197]
>>> _key_derivation([0] * 8, 2)
[0, 130, 0, 74, 0, 162, 0, 138]
>>> _key_derivation([1] * 8, 2)
[1, 131, 1, 75, 1, 163, 1, 139]
"""
def g_0(x):
return (x + 193 * round_) % 256
def g_1(x):
return (x + 165 * round_) % 256
def g_2(x):
return (x + 81 * round_) % 256
def g_3(x):
return (x + 197 * round_) % 256
k_1 = bytearray(k_1)
key = [k_1[0], g_0(k_1[1]), k_1[2], g_1(k_1[3]),
k_1[4], g_2(k_1[5]), k_1[6], g_3(k_1[7])]
return key
_Sbox_table = [0, 4, 8, 0xf, 1, 5, 0xe, 9, 2, 7, 0xa, 0xc, 0xb, 0xd, 6, 3]
_L0 = _L0_inverse = (
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
)
_L1 = (
(1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
)
_L2 = (
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1),
)
_L3 = _L3_inverse = (
(1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 1),
)
_L1_inverse = (
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
)
_L2_inverse = (
(0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1),
(1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1, 0),
(0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 0, 1, 1),
)
if __name__ == "__main__":
import doctest
doctest.testmod()
|
<filename>src/demo/testHandler.go<gh_stars>1-10
/**
演示如何使用默认的多路复用器绑定多个处理器
*/
package main
import (
"fmt"
"net/http"
)
type ChinaHander struct{}
type USAHandler struct{}
func (china ChinaHander) ServeHTTP(w http.ResponseWriter, r *http.Request) {
fmt.Fprintf(w, "hello china")
}
func (usa USAHandler) ServeHTTP(w http.ResponseWriter, r *http.Request) {
}
///处理器函数
func handleJapa(w http.ResponseWriter, r *http.Request) {
fmt.Fprintf(w, "hellpo japa")
}
func main() {
server := http.Server{
Addr: "127.0.0.1:8080",
}
http.Handle("/china/", ChinaHander{}) // /china ok /china/aa ok
http.Handle("/usa", USAHandler{}) // /usa ok /usa/aaa not ok
http.HandleFunc("/japa/", handleJapa)
server.ListenAndServe()
}
|
<reponame>peter88213/yWrestler
"""The pywriter library - Convert yWriter projects
The system is based on the meta-model of a novel, which is also the basis of the yWriter novel writing
application:
There is a project tree that branches into chapters and scenes, plus other branches for documenting
world-building elements such as characters, locations, and items.
The root of this tree is represented by the Novel class in the 'model' package. This base class also
contains some elementary methods for file operations. File format-specific subclasses are derived from
this Novel superclass. For each file format there is a separate package in the pywriter library.
Modules:
pywriter_globals -- Provide global variables to be imported.
Packages:
converter -- Modules for conversion of Novel subclasses.
csv -- Modules for reading and writing csv spreadsheet documents.
file -- Shared modules for template-based document generation.
html -- Modules for reading html files.
model -- Modules for representation of yWriter's meta model.
odf -- Shared modules for writing Open Document files.
ods -- Modules for writing Open Document spreadsheet documents.
odt -- Modules for writing Open Document text documents.
ui -- Modules for user interfaces.
yw -- Modules for reading and writing yWriter project files.
Copyright (c) 2022 <NAME>
For further information see https://github.com/peter88213/PyWriter
Published under the MIT License (https://opensource.org/licenses/mit-license.php)
"""
|
/**
* Sudoku solver class
*
* @author Vladi
*/
public class SudokuSolver
{
public static boolean solve(Sudoku game)
{
if(game.getMovesLeft() == 0)
return true;
Point p = game.getFirstEmpty();
for(int n = 1; n <= 9; n++)
{
if(game.makeMove(p, n))
{
if(solve(game))
return true;
game.delete(p);
}
}
return false;
}
} |
<filename>src/connection.rs
use account::Account;
use error::*;
use imap::client::Client;
use imap::mailbox::Mailbox;
use mail::Mail;
use openssl::ssl::{SslConnectorBuilder, SslMethod, SslStream};
use std::net::TcpStream;
enum ConnectionResult {
Normal(Client<TcpStream>),
Secure(Client<SslStream<TcpStream>>),
}
pub struct Connection(ConnectionResult);
impl Connection {
/// Establish connection with this account
pub fn connect(account: &Account) -> Result<Connection> {
if account.secure {
let ssl_connector = SslConnectorBuilder::new(SslMethod::tls())
.chain_err(|| "fail with ssl")?
.build();
let mut imap_socket = Client::secure_connect(
(account.domain.as_str(), account.port),
&account.domain,
ssl_connector,
).chain_err(|| "fail with connect")?;
imap_socket
.login(&account.username, &account.password)
.chain_err(|| "fail when login")?;
Ok(Connection(ConnectionResult::Secure(imap_socket)))
} else {
let mut imap_socket = Client::connect((account.domain.as_str(), account.port))?;
imap_socket
.login(&account.username, &account.password)
.chain_err(|| "fail when login")?;
Ok(Connection(ConnectionResult::Normal(imap_socket)))
}
}
/// Set debug for connection
pub fn set_debug(&mut self, debug: bool) {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => s.debug = debug,
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => s.debug = debug,
}
}
/// Selects a mailbox
pub fn select(&mut self, mailbox_name: &str) -> Result<Mailbox> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.select(mailbox_name).chain_err(|| "fail when selecting")
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.select(mailbox_name).chain_err(|| "fail when selecting")
}
}
}
/// Examine a mailbox
/// Fetch data
pub fn fetch(&mut self, sequence_set: &str, query: &str) -> Result<Vec<String>> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.fetch(sequence_set, query).chain_err(
|| "fail when fetching",
)
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.fetch(sequence_set, query).chain_err(
|| "fail when fetching",
)
}
}
}
/// Fetch mail
pub fn fetch_mail(&mut self, index: usize) -> Result<Mail> {
let mut headers = self.fetch(
&index.to_string(),
"body.peek[header.fields (FROM TO CC SUBJECT)]",
)?;
let mut text = self.fetch(&index.to_string(), "body.peek[1]")?;
headers.remove(0);
headers.pop();
headers.pop();
text.remove(0);
text.pop();
text.pop();
headers.append(&mut text);
Mail::parse_fetched(headers)
}
/// Create a mailbox
pub fn create(&mut self, mailbox_name: &str) -> Result<()> {
// TODO test subfolder
let mut list: Vec<String> = mailbox_name.split('/').map(|s| s.to_owned()).collect();
let name = list.pop().unwrap_or(mailbox_name.to_owned());
let mut folder_name = list.iter().map(|s| format!("{}/", s)).collect::<String>();
if folder_name.is_empty() {
folder_name = "/".to_owned();
}
if self.list(&folder_name, &name)?.len() >= 2 {
return Ok(());
}
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.create(mailbox_name).chain_err(|| "fail when creating")
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.create(mailbox_name).chain_err(|| "fail when creating")
}
}
}
/// Removes all messages that have the \Deleted flag
pub fn expunge(&mut self) -> Result<()> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.expunge().chain_err(|| "fail with expunge")
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.expunge().chain_err(|| "fail with expunge")
}
}
}
/// Alters data with a message
pub fn store(&mut self, sequence_set: &str, query: &str) -> Result<Vec<String>> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.store(sequence_set, query).chain_err(|| "fail with store")
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.store(sequence_set, query).chain_err(|| "fail with store")
}
}
}
/// Copy message to mailbox
pub fn copy(&mut self, sequence_set: &str, mailbox_name: &str) -> Result<()> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.copy(sequence_set, mailbox_name).chain_err(
|| "fail with copying",
)
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.copy(sequence_set, mailbox_name).chain_err(
|| "fail with copying",
)
}
}
}
/// List mails
pub fn list(&mut self, ref_name: &str, mailbox_search_pattern: &str) -> Result<Vec<String>> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.list(ref_name, mailbox_search_pattern).chain_err(
|| "fail when getting list",
)
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.list(ref_name, mailbox_search_pattern).chain_err(
|| "fail when getting list",
)
}
}
}
/// Get status of mailbox
pub fn status(&mut self, mailbox_name: &str, status_data_items: &str) -> Result<Vec<String>> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => {
s.status(mailbox_name, status_data_items).chain_err(
|| "fail when getting status",
)
}
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => {
s.status(mailbox_name, status_data_items).chain_err(
|| "fail when getting status",
)
}
}
}
/// Send noop
pub fn noop(&mut self) -> Result<()> {
match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => s.noop().chain_err(|| "fail with noop"),
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => s.noop().chain_err(|| "fail with noop"),
}
}
/// Get number of mails
pub fn mail_number(&mut self, mailbox_name: &str) -> Result<usize> {
let status = self.status(mailbox_name, "(messages)")?;
let num = status[0]
.matches(char::is_numeric)
.map(|c| c)
.collect::<String>();
num.parse::<usize>().chain_err(
|| "fail parsing number of mails",
)
}
}
impl Drop for Connection {
fn drop(&mut self) {
let _ = match &mut self.0 {
&mut ConnectionResult::Normal(ref mut s) => s.logout(),
&mut ConnectionResult::Secure(ref mut s) => s.logout(),
};
}
}
|
import type { Knex } from "../types";
export const clientConfig: Knex.Config = {
client: 'sqlite3',
connection: {
filename: './mydb.sqlite',
},
};
|
Jesse A. Rogoski, 22 months, 5763 Citadel Drive, Orlando, died May 10. Born in Fort Myers, he moved to Orlando from there in 1984. Survivors: mother, Deborah A. Brown; brother, John, Orlando; sisters, Melissa, Michelle, both of Orlando; maternal grandparents, Henry and Dorothy Harvey, Orlando. Woodlawn Funeral Home, Orlando. |
Combining Monte Carlo and Molecular Dynamics Simulations for Enhanced Binding Free Energy Estimation through Markov State Models We present a multi-step protocol, combining Monte Carlo and molecular dynamics simulations, for the estimation of absolute binding free energies, one of the most significant challenges in computer aided drug design. The protocol is based on an initial short enhanced Monte Carlo simulation, followed by clustering of the ligand positions, which serve to identify the most relevant states of the unbinding process. From these states extensive molecular dynamics simulations are run to estimate an equilibrium probability distribution obtained with Markov State Models, which is subsequently used to estimate the binding free energy. We tested the procedure on two different protein systems, the Plasminogen kringle domain 1 and Urokinase, each with multiple ligands, for an aggregated molecular dynamics length of 760 s. Our results indicate that the initial sampling of the unbinding events largely facilitates the convergence of the subsequent molecular dynamics exploration. Moreover, the protocol is capable to properly rank the set of ligands examined, albeit with a significant computational cost for the, more realistic, Urokinase complexes. Overall, this work demonstrates the usefulness of combining enhanced sampling methods with regular simulation techniques as a way to obtain more reliable binding affinity estimates. |
Standardized singleplatform assay for human monocyte subpopulations: Lower CD14+CD16++ monocytes in females We present a novel singleplatform assay for determination of the absolute number of human blood monocyte subpopulations, i.e., the CD14++CD16− and the CD14+CD16++ monocytes. A fourcolor combination of antibodies to CD14, CD16, CD45, and HLADR reduces the spillover of natural killer cells and of granulocytes into the CD14+CD16++ monocyte gate. For these CD14+CD16++ monocytes, the intraassay coefficient of variation (CV) was 4.1% and the interassay CV was 8.5%. Looking at a cohort of 40 donors aged 1860 years, we found no age dependence. There was however an effect of gender in that females had lower CD14+CD16++ monocytes (45.4 ± 13.5 cells/l) compared with males (59.1 ± 20.3 cells/l) (P < 0.02). Using this novel approach, we can confirm that exercise will lead to more than threefold increase of the CD14+CD16++ monocytes. Also, we show that therapy with low doses of glucocorticoids will deplete these cells. This robust singleplatform assay may be a useful tool for monitoring the absolute number of monocyte subpopulations in health and disease. © 2010 International Society for Advancement of Cytometry |
<gh_stars>0
import audio_processing as ap
import util
import os
import signal
import subprocess
def start_inference_process(VD, CD):
""" Start an inference process if none is currently active. """
if VD['inference_process'] == None:
VD['terminal_output'] += "\nCreating inference process...\n"
VD['window']['terminal_text'].update(VD['terminal_output'])
event, values = VD['window'].read(timeout=0)
ap.create_process(VD, CD)
VD['terminal_output'] += "Created inference process.\n"
else:
VD['terminal_output'] += "An inference process is already active."
def test_inference(VD, CD):
""" Test whether inference performs as expected. """
if VD['inference_process'] == None:
VD['terminal_output'] += "There is no active inference process.\n"
else:
VD['terminal_output'] += "\nTesting the inference process.\nOutput should be: \"let's test again then\".\n"
ap.run_inference(CD['path_sample_audio'], VD, CD)
VD['window']['inferred_text'].update(VD['temp_text'])
def kill_process(process):
""" Kill the given process. """
if process == None:
print("No process to kill.")
pass
else:
os.killpg(os.getpgid(process.pid), signal.SIGTERM)
process = None
print("Process killed.")
return None
def kill_inference_process(VD):
""" Kill the inference process if one is active. """
if VD['inference_process'] == None:
VD['terminal_output'] += "There is no active inference process.\n"
else:
VD['inference_process'] = kill_process(VD['inference_process'])
VD['terminal_output'] += "\nKilled inference process.\n"
def create_folders(CD):
""" Create or clear the folders required for audio recording and inference. """
path_recordings = CD['path_recordings']
path_temp_recordings = CD['path_temp_recordings']
# Create the recordings folder if it does not already exist
if not os.path.isdir(path_recordings):
os.mkdir(path_recordings)
# Create the temporary audio files folder or clear it if it already exists
if not os.path.isdir(path_temp_recordings):
os.mkdir(path_temp_recordings)
else:
for f in os.listdir(path_temp_recordings):
os.remove(path_temp_recordings+f)
def start_recording(VD, CD):
""" Start recording audio and inferring text from the speech it contains. """
if VD['inference_process'] == None:
VD['terminal_output'] += "Cannot record and infer, no inference process is active.\n"
else:
create_folders(CD)
VD['record_and_infer'] = True # Indicates that recording and inference is active
VD['terminal_output'] += "\nRecording speech and inferring text ...\n"
def stop_recording(VD):
""" Stop recording and inferring, reset a portion of the variables dictionary. """
if VD['record_and_infer']:
terminal_output = VD['terminal_output'] + "Stopped recording.\n\n"
fixed_text = VD['fixed_text'] + " " + VD['temp_text'] + "\n\n"
util.reset_variables_dict(VD, window=VD['window'], layout=VD['layout'], inference_process=VD['inference_process'],
terminal_output=terminal_output, fixed_text=fixed_text)
else:
VD['terminal_output'] += "Not currently recording.\n"
def is_running(program):
""" Returns True if the given program is currently running. """
#cmd = ["xdotool", "search", "--name", program]
cmd = ["xdotool", "search", "--name", "--class", "--classname", program]
try:
subprocess.check_output(cmd)
return True
except:
return False
def start_program(program, program_name, VD):
""" Starts the program with the given name if it is not already running. """
if not is_running(program):
VD['terminal_output'] += f"> Starting {program_name}.\n"
subprocess.Popen([program])
#subprocess.call(["xdotool", "search", "--name", "spotify", "")
else:
VD['terminal_output'] += f"> {program_name} is already running.\n"
def exit_program(program, program_name, VD):
if is_running(program):
VD['terminal_output'] += f"> Exiting {program_name}.\n"
cmd = ["xdotool", "search", "--name", "--class", "--classname", program, "windowkill"]
subprocess.Popen(cmd)
else:
VD['terminal_output'] += f"> {program_name} is not currently running.\n"
def execute_command(VD):
""" Execute a given command (would be better to (at least) not try to match literal strings). """
command = VD['command']
print(f"command = {command}")
if command == "cmd_inference_exit":
VD['exit'] = True
elif command == "cmd_inference_stop":
stop_recording(VD)
elif command == "cmd_inference_kill":
kill_inference_process(VD)
stop_recording(VD)
elif command in VD['command_dict']:
function, params = VD['command_dict'][command]
function(*params)
elif command == "cmd_clear_terminal":
VD['terminal_output'] = ""
elif command == "cmd_clear_all_text":
VD['fixed_text'] = ""
elif command == "cmd_inference_break":
pass
else:
VD['terminal_output'] += f"Command <{command}> is not known.\n"
VD['command'] = ""
def record_and_infer(VD, CD):
if VD['command'] != "":
execute_command(VD)
else:
ap.record_speech(VD, CD)
|
Adaptive Smart Traffic Accidents Management System Traffic congestion and accidents have increased recently and reached critical limits, so these contribute in initiating big challenges for many researchers, governments and industries over the last few decades. Traffic accidents have many undesirable effects relating to increase number of death, infrastructure distribution, and health injuries, so there is a crucial need to develop and modify an approach that utilizes the new technology to limit and prevent the traffic accidents. In this research we developed a comprehensive approach to achieve the following three important goals in accident elimination by using smart solutions. The first goal is minimizing the number of exchange information packets between sensors to save the battery life through developing and adapting clustering schema to minimize the number of exchanges information packets. The second goal is calculating and determining the optimum route from accident location to the nearest rescue location by developing a dynamic routing schema used by the control station and depending on a cost heuristics function. The third goal is predicting the accident causes and minimizing the probability of accidents occur using a warning message schema and drawing some obstacles on some routing paths. Cupcarbon simulator and MATLAB software tool are developed to simulate different scenarios in order to proof the research goals. KeywordsClustering, Cup-carbon, IoT, WSN, 5G Introduction The traffic density is increasing rapidly around the world due to the population growth, so many researchers spent a lot of efforts to find and propose solutions for traffic problems; since traffic accidents have many undesired effects that are presented by human deaths, increase number of injuries, and reduction in human productivity. According to the World Health Organization (WHO) 2018 report, the number of road traffic deaths reached (1.35 million in 2016) and it is expected to rise, especially it is expected to have a person who will die in every 24 seconds by road accident. According to Insurance Institute for Highway Safety, there are many reasons for car accidents, such as: speeding, bad weather conditions, distractions and drunk driving as seen in figure 1. Speeding and drunk driving are occupying the highest percentage reason for car accidents especially to the low-income country as it is seen from WHO report and there is some reductions which are observed in middle and high-income countries; as these countries increase their planning and regulations to reduce car accidents by adapting several researches in accident prevention management. Most of these researches are done to enhance road safety laws, access to post crash care and adapting of intelligent system in roads traffic management. Vehicle AD-Hoc Networks (VANETs) schemes are utilized solutions to manage traffic congestion, and to enhance navigation systems for ambulances by addressing the problem of ascertaining the shortest path to the destination, and avoiding unexpected congestions, by implementing historical real time traffic information that is updated frequently. The proliferation Internet of Things (IoT), and electronic smart devices with the availability of online mapping services such as Google Maps, Bing Maps and Open-StreetMap increase the researchers' motivation to handle various types of queries on spatial road networks, so many simulators are developed to help researchers using IoT devices such as Cupcarbon simulator, as it can support many types of maps using dynamic environment, and so enhance the chance for developing good routes. Cupcarbon simulator can be employed by users to simulate plans for emergency car trips, trips by foot, and public transportation. The implementation of the fifth generation wireless network (5G) will support smart solution and intelligent systems to manage traffic load on streets, so this will develop new trends to handle accident management; since 5G will widely use the Wireless Sensor Networks (WSN); as the5G communication is characterized by internet availability which is exposed to be available anywhere for everybody with a zero cost, so WSNs will provide solutions to meet the increasing of demands for wireless communication, and support Real-time applications such as: road monitoring services, surveillance cameras, and augmented reality devices. 5G networks facilitates the implementation of IoT devices and intelligent systems in smart cities. But, unfortunately, most types of sensor nodes suffer from low transmitting signal to the base station with respect long distance, and low receiving signals' power that expecting overcome signal interference and increase of noise-to-noise ratio. In addition to that WSN nodes suffer from low battery life and mobility management, so clustering is proposed to tackle these problems. According to these addressing problems, we suggested clustering technique for sending and receiving messages between sensors nodes, and so this will reduce the number of messages and overcome the possibility of low battery life. Clustering is the process of gathering a set of similar objects, which used to aggregate these similar objects to achieve efficient power consumptions and enhance system reliability. Different researches are done to utilize the benefits of clustering in wireless sensor network by classifying nodes to primary nodes and secondary nodes. Primary nodes are responsible of data aggregation and data processing function, while secondary nodes perform data forwarding functions. The main advantage for clustering is to increase the network scalability and battery life time; as it enhances the diversity of control distribution over the network, the energy saving is achieved through load distribution and intelligent decision implementation. Nodes which have high energy are allocated more loads thus increasing the lifetime of the network. In clustering only cluster heads perform messages interchange, thus the data messages interchange will be minimum; as only cluster heads will communicate with each other's, thus reducing the data redundancy that occurs when each node performs its own data aggregation and transmission function separately.One of the proposed clustering algorithms is to adapt the rapid changes in VANETs, so when the cluster head is changed as a result of battery energy consumption and moving out of the range of the cluster nodes, a new cluster is needed to be elected as a cluster head; since the old cluster head is not suitable for the new topology. Handoff is implemented, since handoff can be used to handle frequently changes in channel frequency, time slot, spreading code, and combination of them. Handoff is classified into two types: Vertical Handoff (VHO), and Horizontal Handoff (HHO). Horizontal Handoff (HHO) is responsible for communication between two base stations of the same system, while Vertical Handoff (VHO)is responsible for switching process between some of base stations points, and the attachment points that belong to the different network technologies.Global Positioning System (GPS) is proposed solution that is used by traffic light controllers to alert ambulances and rescue vehicles through distributing alert signals which equipped with both RF and GSM module, these alert signals are used to communicate with traffic light, and inform the hospital doctors about the patient's status, so they implemented to receive solution messages relating to the kind of the injury, and the first aid recovery operations that should be done to treat the injured patient . Traffic Accident Management Literature Review Several researches are studied on traffic accident management that conducted on road accidents prevention and road accidents avoidance with particular focus on the vehicular environment to reduce human loss. The traffic accident management systems are classified into two types: traffic accident management based on warning messages, and traffic accident management based on routing scheme. The complete description of traffic accident management is explained in Figure 2. Traffic accident management solutions are mainly based on developing warning messages, and reducing time for rescue operations by adapting optimum path for ambulance routing, while traffic accidents analysis concern with accidents' reasons and results, so many researches implement data mining algorithms and association rule techniques to allocate accidents causes, since these techniques are based on data gathered by Emergency Management Research Institute (EMRI), and some of these researches use K-modes clustering algorithm, and association rules which are gathered to infer the circumstances for an accident that may occur for each cluster. A variety of studies were done to study the effects of road accidents on different sectors, and what are the causes of these accidents, so some of these studies concern with data analysis of accidents' factors associated with accidents using statistical methods such as data mining techniques which predict the future factors for accident. Cophenetic correlation is used to study the hourly accidents at Gujarat state in India, in this research they proposed method which showed that Cophenetic correlation can be implemented in different places with similar roads accidents pattern, and can be used to track similar trend tasks.Unfortunately, most of the accident research studies are related to post accident treatment using optimum ambulance routing based in VANET routing protocols, so there is a lack of pre-accident researches, to tackle preaccident treatment. In this paper, we propose a clustering accidents information message. The idea behind cluster-based approach to reduce battery energy consumption in VANETs, thus the battery life time will be maximized, and the response time used in developing rescue operations will be minimized. As the increase in delay rescue time will result in human death, most of VANETs researches are interesting in studying routing algorithms, since routing algorithms concerned with finding the best route path from the sender node to the desired destination. VANETs routing protocols are classified into: topology-based routing and positioned based routing protocols. In clustering, cluster head is assigned to the node with the highest resources such as least ID and the maximum battery life time, and is responsible in broadcasting the message to all the nodes under its coverage area. Vehicular cloud computing is another promising and attractive solution to satisfy VANET applications and services, but unfortunately, it faces some obstacles and challenges, as Vehicular cloud computing can be a good solution for the future directions and architectures such as the vehicular cloud paradigm vehicle to vehicle (V2V). As routing protocols concern with finding the shortest path, the base algorithm for determining the shortest path queries is Dijkstra's algorithm. But, unfortunately Dijkstra's algorithm suffers from it scalability when the network is large, so different preprocessing methods were proposed to achieve better performance than Dijkstra's algorithm. These algorithms are based on developing distance queries, and state-ofthe-art methods that use bounded-hop methods; so, this will lead in reduction of the processing distance queries in several look ups on pre-computed distance tables. Hierarchical Methods are efficient tools that used to give shortest path queries. But these algorithms are calculated theoretically, so when they are implemented in real-world scenarios, it raises some problems. In most commercial route planning applications and navigation systems, we determine alternative paths that result longer path. These alternatives require: less congestion, lower fuel consumption and less travel time, so these applications will leave the selection for the decision to the user. Some of the proposed routing alternatives are to use a fleet of vehicles, i.e., transportation of humanitarian aid through unsafe regions as they are very useful and consume little time. Intelligent traffic management system is used as new solution for traffic management, as the proliferation of IoT devices, and VANETs are good platform for traffic accident management in smart cities. Several researches concerned with intelligent traffic management using vehicles prioritization to minimize traffic congestion and enhance rescue operations. They find the optimum path and address a counter measure for traffic light system problems and (report) drawbacks by implemented simulated environment using (CupCarbon simulator). In this research, the proposed approach for accidents management highlight following aspects: probability of accidents prevention, minimizing the effects of occurred accidents, rescue operations enhancement, traffic jams minimization, and congestion reduction. Traffic Accident Management Proposed Method The main objectives for the proposed adaptive Smart Traffic Accidents Management Systems (STAMS) are focused on the following points: 1. Minimize number of exchange information packets between sensors, and thus enhance the battery life for WSNs nodes which are used in intelligent systems for smart cities. 2. Select the best route for vehicle, and thus eliminate congestion time leading in traffic jams prevention on the road; since traffic jams are the main reasons for accidents occur, so this will keep the efficiency of traffic flow and assist drivers to reach their destinations on time especially the emergency vehicles and ambulances. 3. Reduce the probability of accident occur, and thus prevent their bad effects through guessing the probability of the occurrence of accidents before they occur using prediction models. Traffic management clustering based proposed method The first traffic management proposed method is based on clustering through assigning a cluster head between sensors node. The purpose of clustering is to minimize the number of exchange information packets between sensors nodes. Clustering is a significant research topic for mobile ad hoc networks (MANETs); since clustering guarantees basic levels of system performance, such as delay and throughput, in the presence of both mobility and large number of mobile terminals. A large variety of approaches for ad hoc clustering have been presented, while different approaches typically focus on different performance metrics. In wireless sensor network, Clustering increases the network scalability, system reliability, and battery life. As nodes in a clustered wireless sensor network can be classified as primary nodes and secondary nodes. Clustering saves energy by distributing load and making intelligent decision to eliminate centralization. Nodes having high energy are allocated as a cluster head. The clustering is done in such a way that data must travel minimum. Only cluster heads communicate another cluster head thus, reducing the data redundancy which usually happens when each node perform its own data aggregation and transmission function separately as it explained in Figure 3. Mobile wireless sensors networks are characterized by their mobility, so the cluster head will be changed frequently, so a new cluster is needed; as the old cluster head may be unsuitable for the new topology, and sometimes the old cluster head may die or move out of the range of the clusters' region. One possible solution to handle rapidly cluster head changing is Handoff process which is defined as a changing the channel (frequency, time slot, spreading code, or combination of them) associated with the current connection and inter-cluster communication. Handoff is a very important aspect, since communication between connected mobiles must not be disturbed while crossing the boundary of serving base station. Handoffs are broadly divided into two categories: hard and soft handoff. Soft Handoff where the connection between mobile and target base station is established before terminating the existing connection. Moving node keeps on observing the signal strength from neighbor base station and when receiving signal strength higher than the threshold, it hands over to that base station. Hard Handoff where the link between mode and base station is terminated before making a connection with the target base station, so the mobile can have maximum one connection at any time. Another classification is based on who will take the decision of handoff. There are three different types of hand off as described below: 1) Mobile Controlled Handoff (MCHO), which is responsible for moving nodes monitor the signal strength of neighboring base stations and moving node itself decides to take the decision for Handoff based on the measurement which received from the neighboring base stations. 2) Network Controlled Handoff (NCHO), which is responsible for serving base station and neighboring base station keeps on monitoring the signal strength of moving nodes. Handoff decision is made by the network base stations which is based on the received signal strength, and in case of rapidly changing environment. This way is not preferred, because it has a high delay associated with it. 3) Mobile Assisted Handoff (MSHO), which is responsible for moving nodes and observe the signal strength of neighboring base stations and the serving base station decides the decision for Handoff based on the measurement received from the moving nodes. Another type of classification of handoff: horizontal and vertical handoff. Horizontal Handoff (HHO), defines as handoff communication between two base stations of the same system. Vertical Handoff (VHO), defines as the switching between points of base stations or attachment that belong to the different network technologies. In Horizontal Handoff, a mobile node moves from one cell to another under same radio access technology. For example, a mobile node currently connected to base station (BS) having LTE network hands over to different base station which also belongs to LTE netd(work. In the vertical handoff, a mobile node moves from one cell belonging to one cell and to other cell that uses different radio access technology. In this research, we depend on soft, vertical, and Mobile Controlled Handoff (MCHO), as they are more proper and suitable for the tested environments, and can be used with cognitive radio networks to address the enormous growth of networks users Clustering contributes in minimizing the average delay time and network throughput, so we used the queuing network models described in, for calculating the simplicity of static network model, assuming the transmit power to be large enough to cover the whole tested area scenario in order to reach the desired destination. The equations used to calculate average end-to-end delay and maximum link throughput are described below. From the above equations, the average delay time is increased with the increase in the number of nodes, so when clustering nodes are used, then the number of interactive nodes will be reduced this leads to minimize the average delay time, and enhancing the throughput. Power consumption is another important factors in the effectiveness of wireless sensors networks, but it is difficult to calculate using theoretical equa- x 1 tions' models, so we developed MATLAB code to investigate the effect of clustering on the energy consumption as shown in Figure 4, which describes three snapshots (left, middle, right) of the results for the energy consumption. The left snapshot shows the energy consumption for one cluster (as broadcasting). The energy consumption is stable before starting broadcasting until the broadcasting is starting; the energy consumption starts to increase because of increasing in the number of packets exchange, then the power consumption is decreasing when the broadcasting is stopped. In the second snapshot, there are three cluster heads, thus the energy consumption improved and decreased; since the use of clustering decreases the number of packets exchange in broadcasting. In the third snapshot, there are four cluster heads, so the power consumption is getting more improved for the same reasons explained before. To determine the optimum number of group head size, we can extend our experiments to handle several scenarios according to the size of cluster head, and then the gathered data can be interpolated to find the approximated function which will be differentiated to determine the optimum size of cluster head. The next subsection will describe how we can reduce the traffic jam using IoT devices; the proof of the proposed method is investigated using simulation tools as explained below. Traffic jam reduction based proposed method Traffic jam is a complex problem that faces most of world countries. Many researches eliminate and reduce traffic jam, as traffic jam has many bad effects like: accidents, death, diseases and others. Traffic jam reduction can be achieved through re-routing vehicles' traffic, preventing traffic jams, and maintaining efficient traffic flow. Simple traffic flow will assist drivers (such as emergency vehicles) to reach their destination on time with minimum cost, so to achieve traffic jam reduction and elimination. Simulation tools are developed which are based on Cupcarbon simulator and MATLAB that are merged to test several scenarios. Road networks are tested mathematically as follow: the road networks are translated to graphs that have vertices and links, these graphs are undirected and directed weighted graph. Let G = (N, E) represents a road weighted network with nodes N and edges, assuming that G is subset from NN network set, where nodes represent road intersections and edges represent road segments. Each edge e = (ni, nj), e is a subset from E. e is assigned weight to represent the cost of moving from node ni to node nj. The cost is a heuristic function which has set of parameters like time and traffic load. To find a path from a certain node to another one, we applied A* algorithm using MATLAB tools to investigate the data which is gathered from IoT sensors in Cupcarbon simulator which mimic real situation in Jordan streets as a case study. First of all assume a certain sensor node is searching for an optimal path to travel from a certain point to another for emergency vehicle, so first this sensor node will send a message for control station asking for optimal path. A* algorithm is used to find the optimal path between two points; since A* is considered one of the most used algorithm in a wide ranges of networks. A* is based on a heuristics to control its path and, it is an effective algorithm in path searching similar to Greedy Best-First-Search algorithm. A* is a combination between Greedy Best-First-Search and Dijkstra's Algorithms, as it uses the vertices which are closing to the nearest starting points like Dijkstra's Algorithm, and depends on heuristics function to facilitate its search like Greedy Best-First-Search algorithm. To understand how A* work, let us start by assuming a standard network topology, so we use the following terminologies: g(n)is representing the exact cost of a path from a certain point to any vertex n, and h(n)is representing the heuristic estimated cost from vertex n to the desired points. The total cost for path selection in A* is presented by f(n) as explained below. f(n) = g(n) + h(n) The function h(n), represents the cost of traffic flow and traffic congestion cost. Traffic flow for vehicles is affected by two main parameters as explained by the following equation: Where Tf: represents Traffic flow (vehicles / hrs), s: vehicle speed (kms/hr or miles / hrs) and d: density (vehicles / kms or vehicles / miles) It is clear that the traffic flow proportional to both the speed of vehicles and their densities, so when the traffic flow is equal to zero then either the vehicles are stopped, or there are no vehicles on the roads, and when the traffic flow is high then either vehicles speed is high or density is high (i.e. there is no congestion), our goal is to select the best path that has the minimum cost as explained in equation 8, so to achieve this goal the traffic flow should be enhanced with traffic congestion elimination. Green Shield Equations are used to measure traffic flow, as these equations are considering the dimension of vehicles and their unit as explained: Where Tfg: represents number of vehicles/ hrs, sg: number of vehicles/unit length (speed), dg: length/unit time(density). sgf: free flow speed, and dgf : Jam density When we substitute equation 10 in 9 we will get: Equation 11 represents the traffic flow, so when we want to maximize the flow size, then we have to derive this equation with respect to density and equal it to zero as shown below: So if we substitute equation 13 in 11, we will get Tfg max = sg It is clear from the derivative green shield formula that, the maximum flow will be achieved when it is equaled to quarter jam density times of free flow speed. In this research, we added simulation tools to test the total cost f(n) through implementing two scenarios. The first scenario is implemented, when there is no traffic jam and the traffic flow is maximum by assuming h(n) is zero, so f(n) =g(n). Figure 5 and Figure 6 show the results for implementing A* routing algorithm without traffic jam, this case may exist during midnight interval time. While in the second scenario, we assume a value for the heuristics function h(n) by assuming there is traffic jam, and a weight for the route path. One of the main factors that effects on the traffic jam is vehicle dimension (vehicle type). The vehicle dimension reflects the vehicle type which has a direct influence on the traffic flow as explained by Green Shield equations. But, unfortunately, A* is a graph search algorithm that offers optimal path, and it is built over a grid partitions, but it suffers from time complexity,. In addition, A* does not consider the vehicle dimension, and vehicle speed to handle traffic flow problems. Many solutions were proposed, one of these solutions is path planning algorithms for each type of vehicle such as the large vehicle, which should be going in specific route that is different for the route for the small car. The main goal from this classification is to group the vehicles with similar characteristics, as this will contribute in reducing the extra burden of considering each vehicle type and thus reducing the significant traffic. Path planning algorithms are used to find near optimum cost, and free collision path from a certain point to a desired target point through using sampled based algorithms by randomized in search space. However, the optimum case is achieved with cost of execution time and convergence rate. These algorithms were used for planned mobile robots in which all the nodes are smart WSN. Rapidly-exploring Random Trees (RRTs) is one of the incremental sampling-based motion planning algorithms that does not guarantee the optimal value path as it was proven by, but another algorithm was considered to have optimal value path, which is called Rapidly exploring Random Graph (RRG). A tree modification to RRG was introduced with a structure same as RRT while maintaining asymptotic optimality of RRG, this algorithm is called RRT*, since RRG algorithm incrementally forms a graph instead of a tree. Vehicles type and size has a direct influence on traffic flow, and the heuristic cost function h(n). In this research we implement RRT* algorithm to tackle the heuristic function h(n). RRT* algorithm has the same body as RRTs, while RRT* extend RRTs as it is explained in Algorithms 1 and 2 respectively. We implement RRT* algorithm on different vehicles size to check the effect of vehicle' size on the traffic flow. Results showed that the size of vehicle has a reverse effect on the traffic flow by having a larger simulation time as explained in Table1. Figure 7 shows the optimum planning path according to the minimum total cost for the car with length = 3.72 and width = 1.44, while, Figure 8 shows optimum route for the bus with length= 10.1 and width = 2.43 to reach the same destination from the same starting point. Traffic accident prevention and reduction proposed based method The main factors and reason for car accident are: speeding, drinking, cell phones and weathers, we study the effects of the following factors on the probability of accidents occur: 1) speed of car factor, 2) disasters factor, and 3) and turning radius of the vehicle. Nowadays over speeding is one of the most common traffic violations. Generally, over speeding is the result of restless and bad behavior of drivers. As the accident rates are increasing, it is important to develop and implement a system which can automatically detect and report over speeding to the traffic control authorities as early as possible. Nearly all the roads are marked with speed limits depending upon the size of moving vehicles and heaviness of traffic, but some drivers habitually ignore this speed limit. The advancement in technology has replaced most of the manual or semiautomatic systems with an automated system. The value of this research uses Internet of Things (IoT) to detect and report over speeding of the vehicle on which the device has been preinstalled. IoT is a technique to integrate various devices to exchange data among themselves to enhance the safety in car driving,. This research proposes the design, development and functioning of a smart device that helps detect automatically and report to competitive authority, when so ever the subject vehicle exceeds the speed limit. The device has been developed based on the Global Positioning System (GPS) Technology. One possible proposed solution to solve disasters problem is to add an obstacle on the map blocking the path, but adding these obstacles depend on information gathered by the sensors. If the sensor detects a disaster or abnormal conditions problem in specific path, then the sensors send a warning message to control station. After that the control station: 1) adds obstacle on path to cancel this path from the planner algorithm or shortest path routing algorithms calculations to find optimal route, 2) and sends a warning message for the nearest cars from disaster path and notify them with the optimal and safe alternative path. Figure 9 shows an example of disaster path that representing as obstacle on the map blocking the path. Fig. 9. Example of disaster path that represents as obstacle on the map blocking the path Turning radius of the vehicle value specified as a positive scalar. This value corresponds to the radius of the turning circle at the maximum steering angle. Larger values limit the maximum steering angle for the planner and smaller values result in sharper turns. Turning radius has influence with the car size, as the width and length of the vehicle increase than these will be directly affected with the turning radius as noted from simulation results. Conclusions and Future Work Traffic accident management is one of the most problems that face governments and the humanity as if it is not managed carefully, it leads to several problems on human life, economic, health, financial, and environmental domains. In this paper, we proposed and applied smart accident management system based on mobile ad hoc networks, and a vertical cluster hand-off algorithm which is used to minimize the battery consumption that wireless mobile ad-hoc network suffer from, the results showed that battery consumption can be alleviated using clustering. This research also reports the optimal route from accident position to the nearest available rescue place or hospital by investigating different scenarios and algorithms to minimize rescue response time and avoid accidents happen properties through implementing and developing a mathematical dynamic cost heuristic function, the results showed that the proposed dynamic routing schemas give optimistic results and can be used to reduce accidents probabilities through adapting vehicle classification using sensors and IoT. Finally, accident prevention and reduction methods are adapted to eliminate the main factors that lead to accident depending on warning message schema and adding obstacle for certain paths. As a future direction, we recommend to implement artificial intelligence techniques (to explore benefits from applying different sensors on roads). Authors Faisal Yousef Alzyoud is an associated professor in computer science department, Faculty of Information Technology, Isra University, Amman-Jordan. Email: faisal.alzyoud@iu.edu.jo Abdallah Altahan Alnuaimi is an associate professor in computer science department, Faculty of Information Technology, Isra University, Amman-Jordan. Faiz Al Shrouf is an associate professor and a head of computer science department, Faculty of Information Technology, Isra University, Amman-Jordan. |
Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019, 9 p.m.
Bucket Hats, Fanny Packs & A Whole Lotta Leather. This Valentine's day we're returning to a time when life was easy, gas was cheap, and love was simple. From TLC, to Tupac, to 112, Mister Hek and will be spinning all your favorite jams from the 90s and more. |
The present invention relates to devices for promoting or inducing restorative sleep and, in particular, to a non-pharmacological method of promoting slow-wave activity in the brain thought to be essential for restful sleep.
The importance of regular, adequate restful sleep is well recognized, however, many people find it difficult to obtain the amount or quality of sleep they require. Generally, techniques for promoting restful sleep do not increase the efficiency of sleep, but still require an individual to obtain approximately eight hours of sleep for every 24 hours.
Conventional sleeping pills can facilitate the induction of a sleep-like state, but are generally ineffective in promoting the restful stages of sleep thought to be necessary to provide the full benefits of sleeping. Sleeping pills of all kinds have the disadvantage of being difficult to counteract if the person taking the sleeping pill needs to be roused unexpectedly, for example, when used by first responders, physicians who are on-call, or military personnel.
Stimulants, such as caffeine, may postpone the need for sleep, but increase a sleep deficit which must ultimately be repaid. |
###
# The Scarlet Thread
### Becky Lee Weyrich
###
# Copyright
Diversion Books
A Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.
443 Park Avenue South, Suite 1008
New York, NY 10016
www.DiversionBooks.com
Copyright © 1989 by Becky Lee Weyrich
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For more information, email info@diversionbooks.com
First Diversion Books edition June 2014
ISBN: 978-1-62681-303-8
# Also by Becky Lee Weyrich
[Swan's Way
Savannah Scarlett
Rainbow Hammock
Captive of Desire
Sands of Destiny
The Scarlet Thread
Once Upon Forever
Summer Lightning
Silver Tears
Tainted Lilies
Almost Heaven
Whispers in Time
Sweet Forever
Rapture's Slave
Gypsy Moon
Hot Winds from Bombay
The Thistle and the Rose
Forever, For Love](chap256452.xhtml)
_Dedicated with gratitude to the Cardiac Team at St. Vincent's Medical Center, Jacksonville, Florida, for keeping my hero alive._
###
# Author's Note
_Storyville_
_January 1, 1898, to November 12, 1917_
If the grand mansions and lowly cribs of Storyville had not been torn down to make way for progress, there is little doubt that the unique tenderloin district of New Orleans would be the city's biggest tourist attraction today. A low-rent housing project now covers the areas where red lights once winked their invitations from Lulu White's Mahogany Hall, Emma Johnson's Studio, Countess Willie Piazza's columned showplace, and countless other exotic pleasure palaces.
The idea for setting the district apart was a desperate measure conceived by desperate men. Prostitution in New Orleans had been a major problem from the time of the city's founding. By the 1880s this social issue had grown to plague proportions. Prostitution infested every nook and cranny of the old city.
Finally, after decades of trying different solutions, all of which failed, one of the town fathers hit upon a brilliant idea. Alderman Sidney Story came up with a plan to confine prostitution to a single section of New Orleans, thereby leaving the rest of the city free from sin.
City Ordinance 13,032 provided that "it shall be unlawful for any public prostitute or woman notoriously abandoned to lewdness" to abide outside certain prescribed limits of the city. The boundaries were plainly stated: "South side of Customhouse Street from Basin to Robertson Street, east side of Robertson Street from Customhouse to Saint Louis Street, from Robertson to Basin Street." Other streets contained within the district were Villere, Marais, Liberty, Franklin, Iberville, Bienville, and Conti. Except for a Methodist church, every building in this area was used for prostitution.
To Alderman Story's consternation, newspaper reporters of the period dubbed the new tenderloin district "Storyville" in his honor. But he could take heart from the fact that his plan worked. Confined, prostitution could be controlled to some extent and the age-old problem became less of a nuisance to the general public and less of a headache to the town fathers than it had been for the past century.
The first soiled doves to reach the Crescent City were sent under royal auspices by Louis XIV and Louis XV. On January 3, 1721, a ship arrived from France bringing eighty girls from _La Salpetriere_ , a correction house in Paris, to provide wives for the men of the new French colony. However, these "correction girls," as they were called, were hardly the "marrying kind." Soon, thanks to these French imports, the oldest profession became the newest commercial venture in the booming Louisiana Territory.
As the port of New Orleans grew, so did its population of loose ladies. They gravitated naturally to the rich center of commerce, following the ever-tantalizing scent of money.
When troops led by Andrew Jackson converged on the area at the end of the War of 1812, a new scarlet wave washed over the city, bringing camp followers from all parts of the country to take care of Old Hickory's boys.
Basin Street, called "the Scarlet Thread running through the heart of New Orleans," was born when the French Quarter still comprised the entire city. Residents scooped out earth from an area "back of town" to make their building lots higher, soon forming a basin. At that time, the solid Creole citizens barred whores from living or doing business within the town limits. These women set up shop near the basin, building a levee, digging a drainage ditch, and erecting shanties with red lanterns outside to let customers know they were open for business.
The Basin Street population continued to grow until the gold rush of 1849. Then this legion of tainted ladies began drifting away from their fertile fields of fornication in search of greener pastures. The lure of gold in California drew most of them. The few who remained left their Basin Street shacks and moved into all parts of the city, taking up residence in the best and the worst neighborhoods. So began the problem for which Storyville eventually became the only solution.
By the time the Civil War broke out, bringing new hordes of whores, the town fathers—no doubt urged on by the town mothers—were armed for battle, determined to rid New Orleans of this scarlet plague. But as Mayor Martin Behrman said of prostitution on Storyville's closing in 1917, "You can make it illegal, but you can't make it unpopular." And what you can't stamp out, you must control.
While Alderman Story's ordinance did not legalize prostitution, it did regulate it to some extent. At least an upstanding citizen could purchase property without fear of who his new neighbors might be. And a housewife could walk the banquettes to make market without worrying about whom she might run into along the way.
From 1898 until 1917, when the federal government stepped in, New Orleans could boast the largest officially designated red-light district in the country. In 1899, Storyville contained approximately two thousand prostitutes, housed in 230 establishments. At the beginning of World War I, the Departments of the Army and the Navy issued orders that open prostitution was banned within five miles of any military installation. Although Mayor Behrman tried to stand firm on his city's right to maintain Storyville, he could not convince the federal authorities. He would close the district, or Washington would send troops to close it for him. Those were the government's final words on the subject.
On October 9, 1917, the New Orleans City Council approved an ordinance providing for the disestablishment of Storyville by November 12. By that date, most of the district's inhabitants had moved on, leaving abandoned houses that echoed with memories.
One by one the old places were torn down. Lulu White's Mahogany Hall was one of the last to go, standing at 235 Basin Street until its demolition in 1949. Most of Storyville's scarlet ladies are gone now, too.
But the legends live on...
###
# Prologue
_Ascension Parish, Louisiana_
_May 14, 1885_
From his hidden lair, a bull alligator roared through the hot, humid darkness. Desirée screamed with fear and sobbed, "Wait for me, Maum Goldie! I can't keep up. Don't let him get me!"
Desirée La Fleur's impressionable young mind allowed the waxing moon to transform the swaying cypresses and the gnarled oaks of the swamp into nightmarish loups-garous—mythical bayou werewolves, possessed of bristling hackles, bulging red eyes, and an unquenchable thirst for blood. She knew, from tales told her by the Cajun trappers who worked their way up Bayou Lafourche, that these devil-creatures roamed the foggy bottom lands and were especially fond of tender young children. That knowledge and the enshrouding darkness spurred her pace.
Maum Goldie, the beautiful octoroon nurse whose name matched the color of her skin, paused for her young charge to catch up. Desirée scurried toward the sound of the woman's labored breathing. She could barely hear the whimpers from her baby sister, clutched tightly in Maum Goldie's arms, over the bullfrogs' nocturnal trolling. The voices of other wetland creatures added to the confusing din. She tried not to think about what might be lurking in the swamp at the edge of her father's plantation, Belle Fleur. But the burning of her face and arms was a constant reminder of the swarms of hungry mosquitoes accompanying their flight. Her heart pounded and her legs ached, but she pushed on, struggling to keep up.
"Please, Maum Goldie!" She was begging now, her small fingers clutching at the worn folds of her nurse's skirt. "Can't we stop and rest a minute?"
"You just take my hand, child, and hold tight to it. Move them little feet like the devil hisself was breathin' down your neck. Reckon he is at that!" Maum Goldie shifted the sleeping Innocente in her arms and glanced over her shoulder. "See them torches back yonder through the swamp, Desirée? They ain't no jack-o'-lanterns! That's your pa, come to fetch us on back."
"But why'd we have to leave, Maum Goldie?" Desirée whined. She was thinking more of her warm crib with its protective mosquito netting than her cruel stepmother and the sure punishment awaiting if they were caught.
"I done told you and told you, child. Ain't nothing been right since your sweet mama passed on. Your pa all the time stompin' around, drinkin', cussin', acting ornery as a polecat. He don't love you younguns like he ought to. As for that woman he married, well, I seen more than I could take this afternoon when she spanked you, honey. She ain't never layin' a hand on one of my babies again. Not never! Your mama say with her dying breath that Maum Goldie was to take care of her angels and, by the Lawd in heaven, I's going to do just that!"
The other reason for their hasty flight wasn't fit for young ears, Goldie decided. Never again would Auguste La Fleur force her to his bed. Never again would that new wife of his accuse her of being a "high-yellow slut." Goldie, as everyone had called the young woman since her birth, wanted better for the girls and better for herself.
"Step lively now, child. We're going to New Orleans!"
Men's shouts and the baying of hounds, which echoed their hollow warning through the swamp, seemed to come from one direction and then from another. But the men's torches sputtered in the drizzly night, betraying their pursuers' exact location. At times they moved so near that Desirée could smell the acrid smoke from the burning pine knots.
Fear trembled out of Maum Goldie's cold fingers. Desirée tried to press close to her nurse, but jutting cypress knees, bramble vines, and her own stumbling tore them apart time and again. Panicked, Desirée cried out whenever she lost her hold on Maum Goldie's hand. Her sounds of distress worked their way to the baby's consciousness. Innocente began to wail.
"Hush that, Desirée!" Maum Goldie whispered hoarsely. "This baby going to give us away if you keep frettin' her like that. You a big girl. Act like one!"
Desirée squared her thin shoulders and tried to be brave. But the threat of capture and punishment, the screaming swamp, and her natural fear of the dark made her efforts poor at best. The moon went out suddenly, its guiding luminescence extinguished by great, soggy clouds. They trudged on, moving slowly now, unable to see the root snags, broken limbs, and watery pits that lay in their path. Time and again Desirée tripped and fell only to be dragged to her feet once more.
Suddenly the shouts grew louder. Desirée could hear what the men were saying.
"I think they went that way, Mr. La Fleur."
"No, there's a scrap of Desirée's pink gown over here on this bush. Follow me, you men!"
"I don't think it's any use, Mr. La Fleur. We'll never find them. It's too dark now."
"Damn you, Goldie!" Auguste La Fleur shouted. "You bring my children back here, you yeller whore!"
At these words Desirée felt a shudder run through the lovely octoroon woman, and despite her best efforts, the child cried aloud.
"I heard 'em, Mr. La Fleur. Over thata way!"
"Loose that hound when I say, Jasper. He'll find them." Then La Fleur yelled again, "You hear that, nigga'? I'm fixin' to sick my dog on you. This is your last chance to answer me!"
The fear of attacking dogs sent Maum Goldie rushing blindly ahead, dragging Desirée in her wake. The child fought to regain her balance. She tried desperately to get to her feet and run, but her strength had vanished through fear and fatigue.
"Get up, Desirée honey! Please!" Maum Goldie begged. "That dog'11 be on us any minute!"
Desirée struggled up out of the mud and plodded on, clutching at her nurse's skirt. The moon sailed out of the clouds for a moment. They could see a break in the trees ahead. The levee and safety lay beyond. New strength flowed through Desirée. Only a few more steps... through the shallow stream, up the bank, and then...
The snarl of an attacking dog and a prehistoric bellow shook the earth simultaneously. To Desirée, it seemed that everything happened in an instant—the flash of teeth and fangs, the terrifying sounds in the blackness, the rush of cold water, and the sucking mud holding her fast.
"Desirée!" she heard Maum Goldie scream.
She tried to answer, but something struck her chest with such force that she was thrown out of the water and onto the low bank of the stream. She lay there stunned, unable to move, unable to breathe. After a moment, hot fingers of pain shot up her spine. A second later, she felt cold and numb all over. She saw yellow eyes, seeming to travel toward her, but she couldn't move... couldn't escape. She heard the men's shouts, but she was unable to answer. She knew water was washing over her feet, but it didn't matter.
"I got to leave you, Desirée," she heard Maum Goldie sob. "Sweet Baby Jesus hold you to His bosom. I can't save you, child." Abruptly, Maum Goldie's voice and Innocente's wails faded into the night. Desirée was slipping through the mud back into the water. She felt the wetness washing over her. The men's loud shouts made her head pound. Then there was a bright circle of light stinging her eyes. A moment later, the smell of liquor she always associated with her father roused her senses.
"Damn gator killed my hound!" she heard him say. "Best dog I ever had, too."
"Never mind that, Auguste. What about Desirée?"
"Haul her out of the water, Doc. Let's see."
Desirée was aware of being lifted, but could neither feel the strong arms about her nor speak to Dr. Colomb, the man holding her.
"Goddamn gator must have whacked her with his tail—probably caved in her chest," Auguste La Fleur observed. "She never had a chance."
"She's still breathing, Auguste. Let's get her back to the house."
"You reckon she'll live, Doc?"
"Desirée's future is in God's hands now, Auguste. But what about Goldie and the baby?"
"Reckon the devil will just have to see to them!"
###
# Chapter One
The air in the Garden District of New Orleans seemed to drip honeyed sunshine that fine spring morning. Shimmering a dazzling white, the Greek Revival mansion on Prytania Street towered out of the surrounding manicured grounds, like some ancient Athenian temple miraculously transported to Louisiana soil.
Nanine Duplantier lingered over her mail and a last cup of café au lait, enjoying the fragrant warmth of late morning. An unopened letter slipped from her turquoise silk lap when she rose on hearing a familiar cry from the street. She hurried to the open window to listen.
> _"Blackber—ries! Fresh and fine_.
>
> _I got blackber—ries. Lady!_
>
> _I got blackberries!_
>
> _Three glass fo' a dime!"_
Crooning the singsong words to herself, Nanine hurried into the cavernous kitchen with its gaping fireplace and rows of copper pots and pans hanging from exposed oak beams.
"Amaryllis, call that vendor to the door. Some fresh berry tarts would be nice, don't you think?"
The cook, a chocolate mountain of a woman, nodded and lumbered over to the back door. "Hey, you dere! Bring dem berries here so's I can count de worms you gone try to sell dis here fine lady!"
A small, black boy scampered up the back steps, two wooden pails slung over his arms and a third balanced on his nappy head. Plump, purplish berries, gleaming fresh with morning dew, brimmed from the tops of the buckets.
"These here berries done rotted on the bush!" Amaryllis snorted. "Ain't nothing but seed left to 'em. If you think my mistress gone pay yo' price for dem, you got a bone in yo' head, boy!"
Nanine smiled to herself at the intense haggling that ensued between her servant and the young merchant. She knew full well that Amaryllis would procure her berries far below the going price and probably extract an extra portion as lagniappe from the lad in the bargain.
Secure in that knowledge, Nanine returned to sorting her mail—a pile to be answered immediately, those that could wait, and the ever-arriving invitations from her husband Placide's countless Creole relations and their friends. When the three stacks were neatly piled, she spied the envelope that had slipped to the floor. Retrieving it, she read:
> _Mount Holyoke Female Seminary_
>
> _South Hadley, Massachusetts_
>
> _May 20, 1899_
>
> _Dearest Cousin Nanine_ ,
>
> _Since you heard from me at Christmas, my whole life has taken a different course. I know you were expecting a wedding announcement, but it is not to be. I am afraid my marriage to Mr. Williamson would not have been a means to an end, but an end for me. I could hardly play the role of submissive wife and helpmate without love in my heart for the man. I have struggled too long and hard to sacrifice my freedom now. I know you will disagree, but to me marriage seems the only form of slavery yet to be abolished_.
>
> _I now find my heart fanned by a new flame. Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Miss Susan B. Anthony spoke at the college a few weeks ago, and their message showed me the course I must follow. Along with my teaching and writing, I plan to carry the torch of reform to the poor women of New Orleans, who strain under the yoke of "White Slavery." Those "Sisters of Sin" must be given a new chance at life!_
>
> _Before you left school to marry Cousin Placide, you very graciously offered your home as mine upon my graduation. At the time, I never expected to return to Louisiana, but I hope your offer still stands_.
>
> _Assuming upon our friendship and family ties, I will leave this great institute of learning in a few days, arriving in New Orleans on June 3. Do not attempt to meet my train as schedules are uncertain. I am quite capable of seeing myself from the station to your lovely home_.
>
> _Until then, my very best to Cousin Placide, and much love to you. 1 remain_...
>
> _Yours with fondest regards_ ,
>
> _Desirée La Fleur_
Nanine put a slender hand to her throat and gave a small cry of delight.
"My word! _Today_ is the third! Placide... I must call and tell him."
She ran to the newly installed telephone in the library and had the "hello boy" ring Placide's office at the New Orleans Canal and Banking Company.
"Hello. Placide? This is Nanine. I have the most exciting news. Desirée is coming. Today, by train."
"That's wonderful!" Placide Duplantier said, after a moment's pause. "But I thought she was getting married."
"No, the wedding is off. She's coming to New Orleans to find a position, I suppose. Probably teaching at Madame Picard's school. Please be home early, dear. I'm going to have a small dinner to welcome her."
A deep chuckle on the line greeted this news. "Planning to shove her right into the social flood, eh, darling?"
"Well, Placide, we can't have her mooning about, brooding over the wedding that was to be. She's quite bitter, I can tell. She even wrote of remaining single forever. But that will change. It's time she married. And what better place to find a proper husband and settle down than right here in New Orleans."
"I presume you've already given serious thought to finding her a 'proper husband,' my dear?"
"Oh, Placide!" How could he always read her thoughts? she wondered. "Of course I've been thinking of a dinner partner for her, but only someone to make her first evening with us pleasant."
"Yves L'Enfant is returning to town today," Placide suggested. "He's always jolly good company."
Nanine frowned into the receiver. "I don't know, Placide. He's such a moody fellow. I'm not sure he'd be right for Desirée."
Again her husband laughed. "I thought you said you were only choosing someone for dinner, not for a lifetime, darling."
"I told you I'm not planning to marry them off to each other. Still..." Placide could hear the musing tone in his wife's voice. "She should make a match soon. I'd thought perhaps she'd enjoy meeting Roman St. Vincent. I know I certainly find his company stimulating."
"Roman, eh? He seems to be your favorite guest these days. Are you sure you're inviting him to amuse Desirée and not yourself?"
"How dare you say such a thing, Placide? I'm not planning to invite Dr. St. Vincent because _I_ enjoy him! It's just that he's such a lonely man since his wife died. He's the sort who _needs_ to be married."
"I fully agree, darling. I was only teasing you."
"Well, I don't like that kind of teasing, Placide."
"Forgive me?" he whispered into the phone.
"You are forgiven, yes. But only because I'm certain Roman and Desirée will make the perfect couple. I know he claims he'll never marry again, but the right woman will change his mind. Just wait and see. And if things work out between the two of them, we can have a huge engagement party and invite everyone in the city. Won't that be lovely, Placide?"
"Indeed it will, my dear!" Placide, as much a romantic as his beautiful wife, was caught up in her plans now. He could almost see his cousin as the good doctor's bride.
"I'm going to ring off now, Placide. Be home early. Goodbye."
Nanine waited for her husband's quiet " _adieu_ " before she replaced the receiver. She sat staring for a moment, quite in awe of this newfangled instrument. Tucking a wisp of wheat-colored hair into place, she quickly began organizing plans for the evening.
"Felicity," Nanine called to the young maid who was clearing the table, "you'll prepare the south guest room at once." Then, not waiting for an answer from the girl, Nanine hurried into the kitchen to consult with Amaryllis on the night's menu and to advise the cook that the household would soon add one to its number.
Amaryllis nodded and went on with the pastry crust for the blackberry tarts. "One extra mouth to feed ain't hardly worth mentioning around here, Miss Nan. Seem like ever' time I sets the table there's two, three guests turns up unexpected. But I ain't never seen no one leave this house hungry yet."
"Well, I should hope not, Amaryllis!" Nanine said, with an appreciative smile. "Besides, it's all _your_ fault we have so many guests. Everyone in the city knows of your talents. They come for your cooking, not our company!"
"Lordy, Miss Nan, if you ain't a caution!" Amaryllis bellowed with laughter until her big bosoms quaked. "You got a way with words that makes folks do what you want, and they never know but what it was their very own idea. And you always so nice about it they just go right along with you."
Nanine offered her cook a conspiratorial smile. "Let's hope Cousin Desirée and Dr. St. Vincent go along, as you say, Amaryllis. If they do, we may soon be planning a wedding."
Nanine left the cook still chuckling and hurried upstairs to dress. Her mind was on Desirée all the while. They had been as close as sisters through school. Their classmates at Mount Holyoke had teased them often, because although they were inseparable, they were exact opposites. Nanine was the gay one—flitting through her studies the way a butterfly darts through a field of daisies. Desirée had been more serious, always concerned with the problems of others before her own. But underneath that serious facade, Nanine knew that mischief lurked deep within her friend. She still shivered at the thought of some of the pranks they'd played in school—the nights they'd sneaked in after curfew, the tadpoles they'd caught at the pond and put in the music master's water pitcher, the skinny snow woman they'd made that so resembled the house mistress. If they'd ever been caught... But no one suspected the serious, studious Desirée and her innocent-looking friend. They seemed too totally opposite to scheme so well together.
Even in looks they were at odds: Nanine with her light hair and silvery-blue eyes, Desirée with hair as black as polished teak and fool's gold eyes—unfathomable hazel with glittering starbursts circling each pupil.
Their goals had been different as well. Nanine had lived for the day when she could marry and have a home and children. She'd found her dream lover in Desirée's cousin, Placide. But Desirée's early life had been far different from Nanine's close family circle. Desirée had lived with a father who cared more for his hounds and horses than he did for his daughter. She'd suffered an unloving stepmother who had two daughters of her own to pamper. Desirée had been sent away to one boarding school after another once she had recovered from the crippling accident she'd suffered when she was only seven years old.
That terrible night had left scars—not on Desirée's body, but on her soul. Nanine felt sure that the reason Desirée seemed afraid to love was because she had had so little practice at it.
"But we'll soon fix that!" Nanine smiled smugly at her reflection in the mirror on the landing. She had a feeling that even Desirée would be charmed by Dr. Roman St. Vincent. And the reverse, she was sure, would be true. The thought pleased Nanine immensely. After Roman's unfortunate marriage and his wife's tragic death, he needed someone to love.
She hurried up the wide, mahogany staircase to make sure Felicity didn't forget to place fresh vetiver in the guest room armoire. Everything must be perfect for Desirée's arrival.
Desirée La Fleur gazed out of the begrimed window of the coach to catch her first glimpse of the city. Lake Pontchartrain blazed a reflection of mirrored blue from the unblemished sky. Ahead she could see the church spires jutting up from the hodgepodge of French, Spanish, and American architecture that typified New Orleans's polyglot society.
"The 'City of Sin'!" she whispered with a slight shiver. She had been here once as a girl to visit Placide's family, but now she viewed the place in a new, more exciting light. This was where she belonged, where she could do her best work. Surely, there were changes to be made, and she was just the person for the task.
For a fleeting moment, Desirée's thoughts turned to Maum Goldie and Innocente. On that fateful night so long ago, their nurse had declared their destination to be New Orleans. Where were they now? Desirée wondered. Alive? Dead? Maybe the two of them were right here in New Orleans still! No one had heard a word from or about them since the night they fled the plantation fourteen years ago. But then, Desirée's stepmother had made it known that she wanted no news of them.
She sighed. All of that was history now. Even if she met Innocente on the street, she wouldn't recognize her. Why, she'd be a grown woman, almost eighteen! A fleeting moment of sadness gripped her as she realized she and her sister would have nothing in common except their parents, and now they were both gone, too.
She thought back to the stiffly worded note she had received from her stepmother that first year at Mount Holyoke, informing her that her father had died suddenly, poisoned by a bad batch of whiskey. All the more reason, Desirée thought, for her present crusade.
Her father's will had left Desirée only a paltry sum, which her expenses at school quickly exhausted. Belle Fleur, the home and plantation, went to her father's second wife and her daughters and the younger half brother Desirée had never seen. But that mattered little. The plantation had not seemed like her home for many years.
The cash prize she'd received from winning the writing contest shortly before graduation had provided funds for her train ticket to New Orleans, leaving a small but ample sum for emergencies. By the time her nest egg was gone, she'd have a position, she told herself. She didn't need her father's money, and she would not accept charity from Placide.
Desirée raised her chin to a defiant tilt. She'd always taken care of herself and she would continue to do so—gladly!
Nearing the station, the train slowed, and Desirée came out of her reverie. The man across the aisle, who had boarded at the last station, was staring at her. She turned and gave him a cold look, but he only smiled mockingly and nodded to her. She turned away. She was tempted to say something to him—to tell him she found his blatant observation of her in the poorest taste—but she couldn't quite work up the nerve.
He probably thought that she should have done as the conductor had suggested and taken a seat in the ladies' coach. Well, he could think whatever he liked! Neither Mrs. Stanton nor Miss Anthony would have shut themselves away in a part of the train where only women and children were allowed. Desirée La Fleur would not either!
She turned and looked again. He was still eyeing her. "Is there something I can do for you, sir?" she demanded in a caustic tone.
He chuckled softly. "Oh, I'm sure there is! But this is neither the time nor place, Garnet."
Desirée gasped softly and turned away, her cheeks flaming. So much for trying to shame him! She wanted to tell him that he had obviously mistaken her for someone else, but she couldn't bring herself to speak to him again.
The train chugged and sparked its way into the station. Putting the insolent stranger from her thoughts, Desirée smoothed the creases and stray cinders from her dove-gray serge skirt before she stood to retrieve her hand baggage from the rack overhead.
"Let me help you." The man who had been ogling her jumped to her aid.
"That's quite all right, thank you. I'm perfectly capable of managing these few parcels." She scorched him with an annoyed gaze, then added, "Besides, a lady doesn't accept assistance from strangers."
He gave a low chuckle and ignored her protests. When he reached up to the rack, his hand brushed hers. At the same time he pressed his body close, blocking her escape. Desirée tried to shrink away, but he had her trapped.
"So, I'm a stranger, eh? Come off it, Garnet!" He laughed deep in his throat and allowed his dark eyes to take the most disgraceful liberties with her body. "But have it your way, my dear. If you want to pretend we've never met, then do allow me to present myself, Mademoiselle. Yves L'Enfant of Black Oak Plantation." He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. "You are, of course..."
She jerked her hand away. "I am a _lady_ , sir, and one who enjoys her privacy, if you don't mind!"
He stepped slightly away, a sardonic smile still creasing his smooth face, but not reaching up to warm his black eyes. He seemed amused by whatever game he was playing. The train jolted to a stop just then, throwing Desirée forward into his arms.
"Ah, so you can't resist my charms after all," he mocked. "I was sure you would come around, even if you don't want the other passengers to guess your true identity."
He pulled her closer, tightening his arm around her waist. Desirée, for one mortifying moment, thought he was going to kiss her. His lips curled back, and the tip of his tongue flicked out nervously at his pencil-thin mustache. She was having trouble breathing, and she could feel the flame in her cheeks.
"Please release me at once!" Her demand came out like a weak whisper.
He chuckled and drew her even closer. "I'll let you go for now, but later, when there's more privacy..."
Desirée uttered a horrified cry and fought her way out of his arms. Gathering up her bags, she rushed for the exit. The man was mad! It was as plain and simple as that.
The terror she'd felt a moment before subsided in the bright hustle and bustle of the station platform. Cart boys loaded luggage for passengers, hack drivers called out for fares, street vendors hawked everything from fresh-brewed coffee to steamed crabs and crayfish.
Desirée forgot all about Yves L'Enfant, her full attention now centered on another man. He wore an outrageous yellow and green plaid suit and diamond studs flashed in his shirt front. His shiny derby sat on his head at a rakish angle. She noticed that he met every male passenger from the train and pressed a pale blue book into each hand. Then with an expansive wave, he indicated the row of houses across the street. Desiree, thinking the free publication a guide to the city's historical sites, asked for a copy.
"Sorry, ma'am, I'm fresh-out." Quickly, he concealed the blue bound pamphlets, which were guides to the various pleasure palaces of Storyville, behind his back. But the moment she turned away, he began distributing the books to the men once more and calling their attention to the row of houses.
Desirée glanced in that direction and read the sign on the corner "Basin Street."
She looked at the intersection of Basin and Iberville and noted a crowd of customers milling in and out of two establishments. The gaudy lettering over the doors identified these as the "Terminal Saloon" and the "Fewclothes' Cabaret."
"Demon rum!" she seethed, feeling the fire of righteous indignation ignite in her breast. "Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony were right about this place!"
She spied another popular watering hole on the corner, "Anderson's." Down that block of Basin stretched a line of three-story mansions, two in particular standing out because of their graceful cupolas. The shades in these handsome houses were drawn and the windows shuttered. Odd, she thought, that there was not a sign of life in that whole block. She wondered about the people who lived there.
"Ah, Storyville! Home at last, eh, Garnet?"
Desirée turned when the all too familiar voice spoke close to her ear. It was Yves L'Enfant once more, but he couldn't have been speaking to her. She started to walk away. He caught her arm, guiding her across the tracks toward the seemingly deserted mansions.
"Please, Garnet, allow me to escort you. I think this little charade of yours has gone far enough. I went along with your act on the train to save you embarrassment. But we're home now. We don't need to pretend any longer."
"I don't want to have to call a policeman," she threatened, but L'Enfant either didn't hear her ragged whisper or chose to ignore her words.
"Heaven on earth," he said expansively. "Basin Street—the scarlet thread running through the very heart of New Orleans. And the ladies who weave that thread into the cloth of magic—Flo Meeker, Marguerite Angell, Antonia Gonzales, Jessie Brown, Josie Arlington, Lulu White, and of course my own dear Garnet Gold."
Desirée, confused and quite honestly frightened by this time, had only been half listening. Most of her energy went into trying to fight her way free from this man.
"Take your hands off me this instant, sir!"
"This is getting quite tiresome, Garnet!" His voice was deadly. "Haven't you had enough of your little game?"
" _Game_! I don't know what you're talking about. Now, let me go!"
L'Enfant ignored her words; he only gripped her arm tighter and hauled her along. "I'm taking you home before you get arrested again. I have plans for tonight, but they'll all go to hell if you wind up in the calaboose. The law's the law, and it applies even to you. I don't see why you keep slipping away from Storyville this way and causing trouble for me and the good doctor."
Desirées mind whirled. She had no idea what the man was talking about or where he meant to take her. And _who_ was this Garnet Gold? She struggled against him. Several men nearby stared and made lewd comments. Then a policeman stepped out of the crowd. Desirée felt relief flood through her. She was about to be saved.
"Afternoon, Mr. L'Enfant," the officer said, tipping his hat. "The little lady giving you some trouble, is she?"
"No problem, O'Reilly. I'm merely escorting Miss Garnet back to Lulu White's where she belongs. We wouldn't want Mayor Flowers or Alderman Story to find out one of their soiled doves has flown the coop, now would we? I'll just see her to Mahogany Hall. And let's keep this between the two of us, O'Reilly."
The red-jowled officer winked and chuckled. "It'll be our little secret, Mr. L'Enfant." He turned and started to walk away, ignoring Desirée's frantic struggles and pleas for help.
"Wait, officer!" she screamed. "This man accosted me on the train. I want him arrested!"
"Quiet, Garnet!" L'Enfant ordered, giving her arm a painful jerk. "Do you want to land in jail for sure?"
"My name is _not_ Garnet!" she wailed.
A jeering crowd gathered, hoping for some sort of interesting action. Officer O'Reilly pushed his way back to where L'Enfant and Desirée stood. He looked thoroughly disgusted.
"Beggin' your pardon, Mr. L'Enfant, but it looks like I'd best haul her in before we have a riot on our hands right here in front of half the town. These girls have got to learn sooner or later. They can't just go roaming about the streets, drumming up business. Come along quietly now, Garnet. We've all had enough excitement for one hot day."
Yves L'Enfant shook his head at Desirée as if she were a naughty child and handed her over to Officer O'Reilly. "I tried," he said, before he turned and vanished into the crowd.
Desirée's immediate relief at seeing the last of Yves L'Enfant melted in the hot sun as the policeman propelled her toward his horse-drawn paddy wagon.
"Where are you taking me? I demand an explanation!"
"Now don't go gettin' sassy with me, Garnet! Just climb in without no more fuss. I'd let you ride up front if it wasn't broad daylight. But things bein' what they are, you'll have to go in back." He unlocked the barred door of the wagon and half helped, half shoved Desirée through the opening. "Leastwise, I ain't got no drunks in here to pester you all the way to the station like last time."
Desirée sat on the filthy floor of the paddy wagon, watching the streets of New Orleans pass by through the bars. Outraged at such treatment and thoroughly befuddled by it, she determined to let Officer O'Reilly hear her thoughts on the subject as soon as they reached their destination. Until then, all she could do was hold onto the bars of the door and try to keep from being battered unconscious as the wagon bounced over the Belgian granite cobbles of the street.
Finally, they jolted to a halt in front of an Egyptian-looking building on Rousseau Street. A painted sign identified the outlandish edifice as the Sixth Precinct. Desirée straightened her hat and smoothed her suit as best she could, refusing to appear anxious and disheveled when O'Reilly released her.
She waited, taking several deep breaths to calm herself, but he didn't come to unlock the door. A crowd of boisterous Irishmen passing by came up to her mobile cell and peered in.
"How doin', lovey? Fine day, ain't it?" one mustachioed son of Erin called through the bars.
His face disappeared from the small opening, but Desirée could hear him talking to his friends a short distance away.
"Swear to God, it looks like Garnet, but I ain't never seen her all done up like that!"
"Go on with you, Hagen! What would Garnet be doin' out this time o' day? She's home at Lulu's, sleeping. Betcha a fiver it ain't her."
"I betcha it is!"
"You're on, Hagen, but how'll we find out?"
"Oh, Tim, me lad, that's easy. I know the lady personal, I do."
"Come off it, Hagen," laughed a third man. "She don't entertain no riff-raff. And even if she did, where would you ever come up with enough ready cash to buy a piece o' that golden arse?"
"I got me connections, Flannigan. Tasted of them delights this Thursday night past, I did. Got me a ten dollar suit, too. Looks right proper when I goes sportin'—just like one of them Creole dandies or a high-falutin' politician!"
"She-iit! Ho-ly Chee-rist!" the others chorused.
The rough face appeared at the bars again.
"Hey, Garnet, me lass. You'll be rememberin' me—Pat Hagen. I was over to Miss Lulu's fine establishment just the other night. Got a snake tattoo with Patty's pig chasin' it. I'd show it to you now to refresh your memory, but this bein' broad daylight and right in front of the station house, well, you understand."
Hagen waited, but Desirée made no reply.
"Come on, girlie. I got a bet with these fellers out here. They say it ain't you. You tell 'em who you are—Garnet Gold in the flesh."
Desirée kept silent.
"Tell 'em, Garnet gal, and I'll stop by Mahogany Hall and buy you a shot of Raleigh Rye soon as O'Reilly lets you out."
Desirée shrank back in the corner, as far away from the bars as she could get. She would not answer this surly masher!
The other men howled their derision at Hagen when he finally gave up.
"Okay, yeller gal!" he yelled at her. "Be thata way! But see if ole Hagen don't take his business elsewhere next time I get a hankerin' to dip me wick!"
The men ambled off, leaving Desirée more confused than ever. What were they talking about? And _who_ was this Garnet Gold everyone seemed to know?
The paddy wagon soon became a sweatbox. Almost no air circulated through the bars. Desirée could feel perspiration trickling down between her tightly bound breasts. Through a slit in the floorboards, she watched a mangy dog nosing about some garbage in the gutter. He lay down and munched a hard piece of greenish bread for a time. When he finished his snack, he rose and lifted a leg on the side of the back wheel. The ammonia smell permeated upward to Desirée's delicate nostrils. She felt her stomach churn, and a faintness descended over her.
"This is ridiculous!" she said aloud. "Officer O'Reilly will discover his mistake any moment now and come to release me. If he's nice about it, I might not even press charges for false arrest. He can contact Placide to come and take me home." The sound of her own voice always gave her a certain renewal of courage.
As if in answer to her spoken plans, she heard the key turning in the lock. The door flew open, allowing yellow sunlight to pool on the floorboards like so much melted butter. Desirée blinked against the strong light.
"All right, deary. Out with you now!" O'Reilly ordered. "The doc's on his way down, and really steamed, I might add. I'll have to put you in a safe place till he gets here."
"Officer O'Reilly, if you'll only let me explain!"
"Save it, sister! You'll have your hands full explainin' to Dr. St. Vincent how come you're out running loose again. Seems Mr. L'Enfant talked to him and he's fit to be tied."
"I don't know any Dr. St. Vincent," Desirée insisted.
O'Reilly sighed resignedly. "Have it your way, Garnet. But the doc can help you, if he will. After last time, he may be thinking to teach you a lesson—let you cool those round heels of yours for a spell. I'd be mighty tempted in his place."
Desirée's composure dissolved. Her eyes teared as Officer O'Reilly led her through the corridor of the jail and closed a cell door behind her.
"Please, I haven't done anything. I'm not this woman called Garnet you keep speaking of. Believe me!"
O'Reilly looked hard at the jet hair smoothed back from her face and the hazel and gold eyes, then he snorted, "Well, if you ain't her, she's sure as hell got a twin she never let on about. I may be just a dumb Irish cop, Garnet, but I ain't blind nor stupid neither!"
When he turned and left abruptly, Desirée sagged back against the bars of the cell. By the time she thought about telling O'Reilly to call Placide Duplantier, he'd gone into his office and closed the door.
Only then did Desirée realize she wasn't the only prisoner in the cell block. A rough hand slipped through the bars, gripping her about the waist, crushing her back hard against the cold steel. She fought to free herself, but to no avail.
Desirée's scream reverberated through the stone-walled room.
"Help me! Someone, anyone, help!"
###
# Chapter Two
"What's the charge this time, O'Reilly?" The hard edge in his voice and the muscle working in his jaw betrayed Roman St. Vincent's annoyance. The tall doctor strode up to the desk like a man with a mission.
O'Reilly offered the physician an apologetic shrug and eyed him carefully. "The Saint of Storyville," people called him, and with good reason. He was always the one who showed up to bail the girls out, bind them up, or listen to their long, sad tales. Personally, O'Reilly wondered why he bothered. He wasn't sure there was a whore in the whole district who deserved such care and understanding. Born that way and none could change them was how O'Reilly figured it.
"Well?" St. Vincent demanded.
"Same as last time, Doc." He ticked off the charges rapidly and in a bored tone. "Ordinance 13,032, Sections 3 and 8: 'That public prostitutes and notoriously lewd and abandoned women are forbidden to stand upon the sidewalks in front of or near the premises they may occupy.' Then, too, she was creating an unholy row with Mr. L'Enfant right there on the station platform."
"How much to get her out this time?" Roman St. Vincent's businesslike tone disguised his anger well.
"Twenty-five dollars or thirty days in the Parish Prison is about the size of it."
The doctor narrowed his blue-black eyes at the policeman. "I'll pay."
"Begging your pardon, Doc, but don't you think it might do Garnet a bit of good to let her take the thirty days?"
St. Vincent ignored the man's suggestion. He ran strong, surgeon's fingers through his thatch of tawny dark brown hair, then turned away as if he meant to leave. But instead, he paced back and forth the length of the office. Only the rhythmic tap-tap of his gold-headed _colchemarde_ —the sword cane in vogue with Creole gentlemen—voiced his vexation. When he faced O'Reilly again, the officer shrank back from the fierce look in St. Vincent's ultramarine eyes.
"Where did you put her?" the doctor demanded.
Just then, a woman's scream answered him before O'Reilly could. Charging through the doorway to the cell block, Roman St. Vincent immediately saw her plight.
"Take your hands off her, you filthy bastard!" he yelled.
But the scurvy-looking reprobate in the next cell continued to clutch Desirée's bodice while mumbling unintelligible, drunken sounds.
"O'Reilly, dammit, give me the key!" In only a moment, the doctor had the door open and was prying the woman away from her attacker.
Desirée was near fainting. The man had kept his iron grip on her for several minutes before help came. Released at last from the stranglehold of her fellow prisoner, she collapsed into Roman St. Vincent's arms, gasping for breath.
"It's all right now," he soothed. "Take it easy. You don't seem to be hurt. Just breathe deeply, slowly."
Desirée, her head swimming and her breasts heaving, realized the gentle strength of the arms embracing her. They posed no threat. She relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy the luxury of the stranger's protection. Under normal circumstances, she would have thrust him away with sharp words, but these circumstances were anything but normal!
"Come along now," he said in a deep, soothing voice. "My buggy is parked out front. I'll take you home."
Only the word "home" registered with Desirée. She gladly accompanied the stranger out of the horrid jail, even allowing him to lend a supporting arm. Without reason, she thought he meant to drive her to the Duplantier residence. But once they were settied in the handsome black carriage with high, yellow wheels, Desirée realized her mistake.
"Now, Garnet," he said in a stern voice, "I want the whole truth from you."
She stared for an instant into eyes the color of a bayou sky before a storm. His face had the look of one who spent much time out of doors—tanned a deep bronze and weathered by wind, rain, and sun. His nostrils flared and a muscle twitched at the right of his square jaw. His full lips pursed in disapproval of her silence.
"I'm tired of this, Garnet. I mean business. Now, answer me!" He gripped her upper arms and shook her slightly as if that might dislodge a reply from her.
Was every man in New Orleans crazy? she wondered.
"My name is _not_ Garnet! And I'll thank you to take your hands off me or I promise you, sir, I will scream!"
Instead of letting go, his fingers tightened on her arms. His jaw tensed with anger. For a moment their gazes locked in silent combat. Then Desirée shied away, suddenly very afraid of him.
Actually, she'd had no intention of carrying out her threat to scream. But, unnerved by his curt manner, she did. At her first ear-splitting shriek, Roman St. Vincent pressed her back hard against the buggy seat and smothered the sound with his lips. Desirée was so surprised by his action that she stopped struggling.
Although his kiss began as a means of silencing her, his lips moved over hers—softening, caressing—until she responded in spite of herself. But as soon as she relaxed, he released her and moved slightly away. She sat stunned and staring. He was not smiling.
"That's better. Now tell me what you were doing at the train station or, by God, Garnet, I'm going to take you back inside and hand you over to O'Reilly again! Maybe he's right. Thirty days might do you a world of good. At least, I'd have a little vacation from having to chase after you to bail you out of trouble."
Desirée—dizzied by his kiss, confused by his questions, and frightened by his threats—leaped from the buggy. She fled away down an alley, her only thought that she must find Nanine and Placide Duplantier.
She heard the man's shouts behind her, but she never looked back. She ran and ran, stumbling over garbage heaps, ignoring jeering peddlers in the streets, oblivious to the curious denizens of the Irish Channel. One purpose alone occupied her mind: _escape_.
After some time her chest began to ache and her legs felt weak. Desirée was sure she could go no farther, when she suddenly found herself on a broad street. The sight of pedestrians going about their normal business brought a measure of comfort. At least the whole world had not gone mad.
Electric streetcars moved up and down the avenue. One stopped directly in front of Desirée and clanged its bell raucously. She hurried on board and paused by the conductor. "Does this line go to the Garden District?"
"Yes, ma'am. Next stop."
She dug into her pocket where she kept emergency coins and paid, then took a seat in the back, as far away as possible from the other passengers. Only then did she allow herself to breathe easily.
Questions whirled in her brain. Perhaps Nanine and Placide would be able to provide some of the answers. For now, it was enough that she had escaped.
Where could Desirée be? _Where?_ Nanine Duplantier paced from the petite salon to the entrance hall for the hundredth time, wringing her hands and muttering to herself.
"I don't understand it," she said aloud.
Desirée had tagged her trunk with the Duplantier address so that it had been delivered hours before. The fact that its owner was still unaccounted for distressed Nanine beyond words.
"A train station is no place for a woman alone... not even in broad daylight... not even Desirée La Fleur!" she said anxiously.
Nanine peered through the etched glass of the front door and spied a figure hurrying up the walk, and her heart swelled with relief. She rushed outside. The two women fell into each other's arms.
"Where have you been, Desirée? I've been out of my mind worrying about you."
Desirée straightened her hat and slapped the dust from her rumpled skirt. "Oh, Nanine, I was beginning to think I'd stepped off the train and right into a nightmare. You know the kind in which you desperately try to reach your destination, but you are foiled at every turn? That's the sort of day I've had. I thought I'd never get here. And I've seen some parts of your fair city mat I never care to visit again!"
"Well, dear, you're here now." Nanine hugged her in welcome and relief. "Come inside. Placide will be home any moment, and we have guests arriving soon for dinner. You'll have just enough time to badie and dress."
Desirée stopped on the steps and laughed. She glanced about her at the neat lawn, the perfectly kept flower beds in a riot of colors against the pristine white of the house. Everything in Nanine Duplantier's life was neat and clean and well ordered. How could she even imagine the sort of nightmare Desirée had just escaped from? Desirée kept laughing until tears streamed down her face. Her whole tale of woe suddenly seemed ludicrous. Nanine stared at her, perplexed.
"Forgive me," Desirée begged. "It's only that after this insane day, to have you tell me you're having a dinner....That's so proper, so civilized of you, Nanine. I'd begun to believe that I was the only normal person left on the face of the earth. But I know that all the guests you and Cousin Placide have invited will be not only normal, but cultured, interesting, and wonderfully genteel. Not one of them will be like the disreputable characters I've encountered so far today. It gives one a nice feeling."
Nanine looked slightly bewildered. "Then you do approve of the dinner party?"
"Wholeheartedly, dear cousin! Lead me to the bath. I feel as if I've accumulated half the filth of New Orleans in my ramblings today."
"Do tell me what happened, Desirée."
"No!" Desirée frowned. She didn't want to think about what she'd been through, much teas talk about it. "At least not now, Nan dear. I had thought I'd want to pour out my tale to you the moment I got here. But it's behind me now. And what does it matter? I'm sure I'11 never lay eyes on any of those awful people again. They certainly aren't the type who get invited to dinner parties, believe me!"
Nanine's silvery-blue eyes glittered, and she squeezed Desirée's hand. "Just wait until you meet your charming dinner partner, dear girl! If you don't fall absolutely in love this very night..."
Desirée groaned. "Oh, Nanine, you're not still at it? I thought you'd sworn off matchmaking when I became engaged."
Nanine placed a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "But now your Mr. Williamson is out of the picture, my dear. We _must_ find you someone else. I can't bear to think of your poor heart aching over a broken romance. Placide is in full agreement. We feel it our _duty_ to see you well married, Desirée."
"Not _both_ of you!" Desirée cried, backing away. "Heaven help me!"
Nanine patted her arm. "There, there, dear! With Placide and me here you won't need heaven's help. We intend to see that you get over this sad affair as quickly as possible."
Desirée could see that she was going to have to take a firm stand with her cousin and his wife. The last thing she needed or wanted in her life was a new romance! She'd barely escaped the "nuptial noose" as it was. One near miss was quite sufficient for the present.
"I hate to disappoint you, Nan, but _I_ am the one who called off our plans. And, though I hate to sound hard-hearted, I suffered not a moment's regret. Some women simply are not meant for marriage. I'm afraid I am one of them. I have too many other things I want to do."
Nanine made a sign to ward off evil and clicked her tongue with disapproval. "There is no need for you to act brave for my sake, dear. You needn't try to hide your broken heart from me."
"Nanine..." Desirée started to protest, but gave it up. If it pleased her friend to think that she was helping pick up the pieces of a shattered love affair, then let her have her fun. Besides, she knew it would do no good to argue.
Nanine led Desirée up to the guest room on the second floor. Although the hostess was the older of the two, she had always looked up to Desirée, and put great stock in her opinions. She stood by nervously now as her guest inspected the room prepared for her. Nanine waited for her friend's approval.
Desirée, smiling, took it all in. The room was the quintessence of queenly femininity—like Nanine herself. A rose-frost fairy lamp at the bedside bathed the wallpaper's gilt-flocked fleur-de-lis design in warm pink. Near the softly flickering candle, a bouquet of wood violets graced a crystal bowl. The canopy bed, vanity, and bureau looked fragile and elegant in white, accented with gold tracery. Desirée noted the accouchement chaise at the foot of the bed. She knew of Nanine's desperate desire for a child. No doubt every bedroom in the great house came equipped with this particular piece of furniture, peculiar to the Creole culture. It stood also as her friend's gentle, if not too subtle, reminder to Desirée that Creole women were _expected_ to marry and become mothers.
"It's perfectly lovely, Nanine," Desirée assured her anxious hostess. "Only you could have decorated this room."
Nanine broke into a pretty smile. "I'm very glad you like it, Desirée. I had so little time to get things ready for you. Your letter arrived this morning." She opened the mirrored doors of the large armoire, releasing a cloud of woodsy vetiver scent into the room. "I had Felicity hang your gowns in here so some of the wrinkles would fall out."
"Thank you," Desirée replied, searching through the deep chest to choose a dress for the evening. "Which one do you think, Nanine? Perhaps the brown velvet."
"Oh, no, Desirée!" Nanine's shrill tone betrayed her shock. She shook her head until the golden curls piled high over her forehead bobbed about. "You have to remember you're in New Orleans now. You know no proper Creole lady would wear velvet before she's married."
Desirée laughed. "Honestly, Nanine, a person would think you'd been born and bred a Creole instead of only marrying one! A new century is upon us. Isn't it high time we forgot our stuffy old traditions? Why, women are wearing pants now!"
Nanine's pretty face twisted into a horrified grimace. "Not in New Orleans!"
Desirée chuckled. "Still clinging to your outmoded dress codes, eh?"
"Please, Desirée." Nanine lowered her gaze as she spoke. "I understand about these things. But Placide and his friends still cherish the old ways. They'll get used to your progressive ideas, I'm sure, dear. But take it slowly. Give them time to know you better. Then they'll accept your modern thinking."
Desirée kissed Nannie's cheek lightly. "My dear friend, you are wise as well as beautiful. And I wouldn't do anything in the world to embarrass you. So stop worrying and bring in the gown! I'm sure you've already chosen something from your own wardrobe for me to wear tonight."
"Well," Nanine began with a shy smile, "I knew all your things would be mussed from the trip."
"You also remember from school that I have atrocious taste and have never owned a fancy gown in my life! Now, where is this fabulous creation you plan for me to wear?"
Nanine hugged Desirée and then swept out of the room. A moment later, both she and Felicity came in. The maid carried a gown of shimmering gold crepe de Paris embroidered with crystal beads.
"Just the color to bring out the golden flecks in your eyes," Nanine enthused.
"My Lord, Nanine!" Desirée gasped. "I could never wear anything like that. What happened to the rest of the bodice? Did the mice eat it? Why, people will have to crawl under the table to see if I'm wearing anything at all! And a bustle? How does one sit in one of those ridiculous contraptions?"
Nanine looked crestfallen. "Oh, Desirée, this is the very latest style. You'll look perfectly gorgeous, believe me. And I promise you, no one will be shocked in the least."
" _I_ will!" Desirée saw the look of disappointment in her friend's eyes and relented. "Oh, very well, Nanine, I'll wear it. But my bloomers get equal time later!"
Nanine blushed at the mere mention of such scandalous apparel.
The lovely scent of lemon verbena bath salts drifted into the bedroom from the adjoining closet that contained the porcelain tub and other conveniences.
"Madame, the bath is ready," Felicity called.
"The guests will be arriving in an hour, Desirée. Will that give you enough time?"
"More than enough," she assured her hostess.
"We'll leave you to prepare, then, if there's nothing else you need. Ring when you're ready for Felicity to do your hair."
"One question, Nanine, before you go."
"Yes?"
"Do you know a woman in New Orleans named Garnet Gold?"
Nanine thought for a moment. "Why, I don't think so, dear. Is she someone you met today?"
"No." Desirée was frowning now as she shook her head. "I've only heard of her. But she seems to have many acquaintances in the city." She waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. "Nevermind. It was just idle curiosity on my part."
Nanine left her guest to her bath and hurried downstairs to check the dinner preparations.
Even the soothing bubbles failed to dispel the apprehension that still nagged at Desirée every time she thought about the woman she'd been mistaken for. She eased her body down deeper into the porcelain tub and closed her eyes, letting the hot water melt away the aches from her trip. But her thoughts remained troubled.
Suddenly, she sat up and said aloud, "I'm going to find out who this Garnet person is! I have to meet her!"
All eyes below turned to the stairs as Desirée started her descent. She felt their gazes with extreme discomfort. She was accustomed to gray or navy-blue serge that covered her from her long, slender throat right down to the toes of her sensible shoes. Nothing in her wardrobe glittered in the least. She simply was not the fuss-and-bother type. If she was beautiful—and not one of the Duplantiers' guests would have said otherwise—Desirée La Fleur was unaware of it. Quite frankly, she couldn't have cared less. She saw herself as a modern woman, given to enlightened thoughts and serviceable modes of dress.
Now, suddenly, she had become a stranger to herself. The golden gown clung to her, accentuating her every move, the beads shimmering in the gaslight. Her bosoms, which she considered rather too large to be practical, rose out of the low-cut bodice like twin moons, making her cinched-in waist look incredibly dainty. Soft folds of the gleaming fabric cascaded over the bustle in back, but stopped short in front, showing the toes of the elegant, _impractical_ little slippers Nanine had insisted must go with the gown. When she walked, a hint of well-turned ankle showed fetchingly patterned silk stockings—an outrageous extravagance!
On top of it all, Felicity had insisted that Desirée's customary smooth chignon would never do for evening. She had transformed the guest of honor's severe hairstyle into a fantasy of curls, waves, and ropes of braids. Desirée felt as if the great pyramid of Giza sat perched precariously atop her head.
As a final touch of "Creole-gaudy," as Desirée thought of it, Nanine had insisted on draping Desirée's throat and shoulders in a web of glittering scarlet spun by the tiny garnets of an antique bib necklace.
Negotiating the stairs with great care, Desirée shuddered slightly. What would Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony say if they could see her now?
She paused on the landing in what seemed to the guests below a calculation in the dramatic. In truth, Desirée was wondering if she might escape by fleeing back upstairs. But Nanine was smiling at her proudly, and Cousin Placide was already making his way up to meet her.
" _Mon Dieu!_ " Desirée heard him say to his wife. " _This_ is my little cousin? But she's a beauty!"
Nanine smiled her pleasure at her husband's approving reaction. Not being the jealous type, she felt no resentment when Placide—dark and outrageously handsome—hurried up the stairs to escort Desirée the rest of the way. She merely complimented herself on her excellent taste—in fashions _and_ in husbands.
The golden gown did, indeed, light gleaming fires deep in Desirée's eyes. And the garnets at her throat cast a becoming, wine-colored glow over her china-white skin. Murmurs of admiration from all sides added to the hostess's feeling of accomplishment.
Only one of the guests stood silent—dumbstruck. Dr. Roman St. Vincent could find no words to express what he was feeling. He watched Placide brush the woman's cheek with his lips, then guide her down the stairs.
It couldn't be! But those eyes, that face... _it was_!
Roman thought back over the afternoon. Why hadn't he realized his mistake from the first? Garnet would never have dressed in that severe gray suit. Why, this glowing goddess had looked like a school mistress when he'd found her in jail. He had recognized her beauty beneath that granitelike facade, but Garnet was a very beautiful woman, too. Still, Placide's cousin might look like Garnet's mirror-image, but the two were as different as day and night... as good and bad.
He certainly should have realized his mistake when he kissed her. Garnet's kisses were practiced, professional, and impersonal. But this afternoon, although he'd only meant to silence her screams with his lips, the kiss had progressed beyond that point. She had tasted only of tight-lipped terror at first, but then he had sensed a chaste surrender, building toward sincere longing the moment before he had released her.
Roman felt an uncomfortable heat pounding through his veins and shoved all thoughts of Desireé's kiss from his consciousness. She was staring at him now—her eyes wide and terrified like those of a startled doe. It seemed almost as if she could guess his thoughts. He had made such a mistake... such a fool of himself! How could he ever hope to explain, to make her understand?
Desirée experienced a flush rising from her throat to her cheeks. This couldn't be happening! Beyond Nanine's women friends, who lit the room with their diamond dog collars, sapphire pendants, and emerald brooches, she spied a pair of deep-set blue eyes examining her. Her breath caught for a moment, causing her heart to riot in her breast. This man was out of her nightmare! She wanted desperately to turn and flee to the safety of her room, but Placide had a firm hold on her arm.
The man seemed to be hiding behind the others, as embarrassed as she. But Placide made straight for him.
"Ah, Roman!" Placide hailed. "Allow me to present my cousin, Mademoiselle Desirée La Fleur.... Dr. Roman St. Vincent, your dinner partner for the evening, my dear."
_Her dinner partner?_ Desirée swallowed hard to keep from gasping aloud. This man, this _ruffian_ , who had bailed her out of jail only to accuse her of lying, then force his unwanted attentions on her, was the very one that Nanine had promised she would fall immediately in love with this very night? Well, for once Nanine's instincts had gone haywire!
He didn't smile, Desirée noted, but locked her for a moment in that searching, disconcerting gaze of his. She half expected him to dispute her true identity and accuse her once more of being Garnet Gold, whoever she was. But instead, he took her hand and brought it to his lips briefly.
" _Enchanté_ , Mademoiselle La Fleur. Welcome to New Orleans."
Their eyes met and his glittered with blue lights for an instant. It was almost as if he were making a silent pact with her, that he would keep their afternoon meeting a secret, if she would do the same.
Desirée knew that she had only to manage a simple "Thank you, Doctor." But her voice refused to come. She felt the garnet bib clutching at her throat, her satin-bound corset squeezing her. The very act of breathing became an effort, causing her breasts to rise and fall with an exaggerated motion.
"Dinner is served," the butler, Raoul, announced before she found her voice.
Desirée stood very still, immobilized under Roman St. Vincent's gaze. He offered his arm without a word. Her fingers felt icy as she let her hand slip into the curve of his elbow. She continued battling the urge to flee. They sat next to each other, but an invisible wall seemed to separate them. She was sure she'd never be able to swallow a morsel. Her emotions heaved with a turmoil of passions—anger, outrage, disgust, fear, and yes, she had to admit it, a disturbing physical attraction toward Dr. St. Vincent.
She found her fury turning inward. How could she possibly feel the least bit drawn to such a man?
Although the spirited dinner conversation—talk of the Mardi Gras past, the racing season to come, politics, fashions, and even Desirée's burning passion, social reform—proved as plentiful and varied as the food—trout Marguerite, roast turkey stuffed with truffles, saddle of mutton, tomato salad, and strawberries in Madeira wine—Roman St. Vincent spoke infrequently. He seemed as uncomfortable as she, Desirée thought with more than a mild touch of satisfaction. But his occasional glances in her direction made her most anxious. She felt deep relief when Nanine rose to signal the end of the two hour repast.
"Come now, everyone," their hostess ordered gaily. "We'll have dancing in the salon."
The six musicians, tuned and ready, struck up a waltz as soon as the guests entered the room. Without so much as a "by your leave," Roman St. Vincent swept Desirée into his arms and across the polished floor.
She might have protested had he not been such an accomplished dancer. But this was Desirée's one weakness. Although she shunned most "feminine frivolities," she did love to dance, especially in the arms of a handsome and graceful partner. Grudgingly, she admitted he was both of these.
For a long time, they waltzed in silence, Roman St. Vincent whirling Desirée in magnificent sweeps around the floor. He led her easily through the intricate moves with only the slightest pressure at her tiny waist. Soon the other dancers, sensing that they were outclassed, vacated the floor to give the guest of honor and her partner more space.
The music built to a crashing crescendo. Desirée could feel it like a second heartbeat in her breast. Her head felt as light as her feet. She forgot about her unfortunate arrival in New Orleans and the others in the room, smiling their approval of the whirling couple. She was aware only of the closeness and heat of the man who held her, his storm-blue eyes gazing down into hers, and the ragged beating of her heart against his hard chest. It seemed that she had been born for this moment—to dance forever in her partner's embrace.
Then suddenly the music stopped. In a final move, Roman whirled her out at arm's length, bowed as she curtsied, then kissed her hand while his eyes locked hers once more with a disturbingly arousing gaze.
The other guests broke into thunderous applause. Desirée jumped as if she'd just come out of a deep trance. Roman was still holding her hand possessively. She extracted it gently, but swiftly.
Desirée had the oddest sensation of being two people suddenly. The music had ended, but her body still felt as warm, supple, and pliant as it had been while she danced to Dr. St. Vincent's lead. Half of her was still the obliging young woman he had held in his arms. But the other side of her rebelled against such wanton femininity. This man was no different from any other. Just as he had led her through the waltz—expecting her to move according to his slightest whim—so would he expect to dominate any woman in the daily course of life. Men were, after all, all the same. Like her father... like Mr. Williamson. Demanding obedience, but offering little or no affection in return.
Desirée breathed deeply and squared her shoulders, trying to dispel the pleasure she had experienced during the dance. Racing pulses and girlish flushed cheeks were foolishness, plain and simple!
When she felt sure of herself again, she turned toward Roman, slowly letting her gaze drift up, higher and higher, until the glittery-gold starbursts in her eyes met the night-sky blue of his. She tried to deny the impact of his steady gaze. But there it was, making her senses reel again, making her body throb with some strange faraway longing, making the others in the room fade to nothing more than a hazy aura surrounding the two of them. How utterly ridiculous she felt!
Try as she might to pull herself out from under the spell of his gaze, Desirée found she was powerless. It was as if Roman St. Vincent were a voodoo doctor, using the most powerful kind of black magic to gain total control of his victim. Any moment now he would put her to the ultimate test, ordering her to perform some outrageous act in order to prove his limitless powers. Men were like that! _All men_!
Desirée could almost imagine him saying, "Very well now, Mademoiselle, we will have the proof of my masculine powers. You will remove your golden gown and submit to me on the bare boards of the dance floor while the orchestra plays to accompany us."
The mere thought sent her hand flying to her breast in the time-honored manner of a virgin protecting her innocence. Her breath caught in a husky gasp.
She blinked rapidly, trying to break the spell. But as her eyes met Roman St. Vincent's once more, she saw his lips move to speak, ordering her to do as he willed, and she knew she would be unable to deny him.
###
# Chapter Three
"Would you care to see the gardens, Mademoiselle?" Roman St. Vincent spoke the words, not as a command, but as a polite question. The very tone of his voice took Desirée by surprise.
She still felt giddy from their dance and the man's mesmerizing gaze, but she knew full well what she was doing when she nodded her assent. She would prove to herself once and for all that she could control her emotions.
"Thank you, Doctor. Some fresh air would be delightful. It's rather warm for dancing."
He touched her waist ever so lightly, leading her away from the other guests. "It's Roman, please."
She gave him a slight smile and a nod. "Only if you'll call me Desirée."
They left the house and strolled down the stairs at the back gallery. Exotic perfumes filled the night—sweet oleander, fragrant wisteria, and night-blooming jasmine. A warm breeze wafted from the river, making the branches sigh softly overhead. They walked in silence, listening to the tinkling of a fountain where a naked goddess bathed. It was like a dream world, something out of a childhood fantasy. Even the moon conspired to wash the landscape in romantic silvery light.
Desirée jumped slightly when Roman's voice interrupted the silent enchantment. "I've been waiting all evening to get you alone."
"I beg your pardon!" she said, turning to scorch him with a reproachful stare.
He gave a low, deep laugh. "That did sound indecent, didn't it? What I mean is, now that we're alone I want to apologize. With all those other people, the opportunity hasn't presented itself until now. I made a shameful mistake this afternoon."
"It seems you weren't the only one. I'd like to accept your apology, but I'm afraid I can't." She wasn't about to let him off the hook so easily. Not after what he'd put her through.
He turned her to face him. Again those disquieting eyes were burning into her. He seemed to be reading her soul.
"What can I do to make up for what happened, Desiree?"
She hesitated before she answered. Dare she ask? She made up her mind quickly. How else could she find out what she wanted to know?
"I could forgive you in exchange for some information, Doctor. Who is this woman named Garnet?"
For once he avoided her gaze, looking beyond her at some uncertain point. "You're right, of course. You do deserve an explanation. But, God in heaven, I hate to admit how wrong I was! The subject shouldn't even be brought up in the presence of a well-bred young lady. You'll be shocked, I'm sure."
She laughed softly. "You don't know me very well, Roman, or you wouldn't be concerned about that. I don't shock easily. It was a distressing experience, I'll admit that. But I've been through far worse. Besides, as I understand it, you were merely trying to do this Garnet a favor. And you did save me from that horrible man in the next cell."
He made an angry sound then uttered a mirthless laugh. "You see, that's just what I mean. This is outrageous! You shouldn't even be talking about being in a cell. And I mauled you as if you were a common..."
She looked away, embarrassed suddenly. She hadn't thought that he would bring up their kiss. But she forced herself back to composure and suggested, "Let's forget all that. It's over. Surely, it can't be such a great trial for you simply to tell me. _Who is Garnet Gold?_ "
"Very well." He heaved a sigh and shook his head. "But don't say I didn't warn you. Garnet is one of the demimondaines who live in Storyville."
Desirée gasped. "Storyville? I heard that name from that offensive man at the station today, but I didn't realize..."
"Yes. Yves L'Enfant mistook you for Garnet, too. He knows her well, as do I. Storyville is the city's tenderloin district, and Garnet is one of its inmates. L'Enfant told me he tried to take you to Mahogany Hall, but you put up a fight. You see, there are laws against these women straying out of the district. Garnet is a past offender. L'Enfant was only trying to save her from further trouble with the law."
Desirée covered her shock well and hurried on. "Do you mean to tell me that those poor women are locked up in those houses along Basin Street and not even allowed to stroll across the road? Why, that's exactly the type of white slavery Mrs. Stanton and Miss Anthony warned me about! I couldn't believe such a system existed in this day and age." A thoughtful silence followed before she added, "Something must be done about this! No woman should be held there against her will!"
"That's not quite the way it is, Desirée," Roman said gently. "Most of them wouldn't leave Storyville if they were offered decent jobs. A few marry, change their names, and move away. But most of them would be in some prison if they weren't in the brothels. Believe me, they are of such an element of society that they seek these depths from birth. You come from fine, old Creole stock. You couldn't possibly understand the way they think."
She couldn't control her sarcasm. "And you—a _man_ —can, I suppose!"
"I think so. I'm their physician. I treat their ills, real or imagined, deliver their fatherless babies, patch them up as best I can after their suicide attempts. They're honest with me, most of them anyway. I know all their secrets. The majority would be terrified at the mere thought of leaving the district."
"Oh, really?" Desirée hadn't yet formed her final opinion of Dr. Roman St. Vincent. But she was fully aware of one thing: He certainly knew how to make her angry! "And that, I suppose, is why they try to escape their miserable existence by way of suicide."
"You have me on that one, Desirée. Some would prefer to leave... or to die. But they are the ones who would probably make the same attempts even if they were somewhere else, leading ordinary lives."
"May I ask you a personal question, Roman?"
He nodded, picked a white rose, and handed it to her. A peace offering.
"Have you ever been married? I know most doctors are."
He turned slightly so that she couldn't see his face, and his voice lost all its warmth. "I was. She died almost five years ago.
Desirée interpreted his tone for deep sorrow. "I'm sorry. You loved her very much, didn't you?"
He uttered a dry laugh. "Not enough to give up my mistress when we were wed. Marriage for me was a mistake, one that I don't plan to make again."
Desirée was taken aback. How could a man admit such a fact, especially to a near stranger?
"You look shocked, Desirée, and I thought you didn't shock easily." Suddenly his voice was strong again, booming through the quiet garden like a cold blast. "Surely you must know that the majority of Creole husbands still keep mistresses. We hold that as one of our sacred traditions. In fact, most of my friends claim to love their mistresses far more deeply than they love their wives. It's been a way of life here in New Orleans from the earliest days, from back when marriages were arranged."
Desirée stiffened. Her nails cut into her palms as her fists clenched. Roman's words went straight to her heart, ripping away at ancient scar tissue. As young as she was when her mother had died, she had understood even then that her father loved other women. She had seen him slip into the cabins down by the cypress swamp. Once her hound puppy had led her on a chase that wound up at the shack of a sultry octoroon woman named Rennie. While trying to coax the stubborn pup out from under the house, she'd heard her father's voice, his pants and groans. She had understood and felt sick. And Rennie wasn't the only one. There had been many women on the place. She felt her blood run to ice as she remembered one afternoon she had kept locked away from her thoughts for years. She had happened into a spare bedroom to find her father forcing her own nurse, Maum Goldie. He had cursed at her and threatened to beat her if she tattled to his wife. It was only a few days later that Desirée's mother had died giving birth to her little sister.
Roman misunderstood the pained expression on Desirée's face. He took her silence for shock. So be it! He was making himself sound like a scoundrel, and he knew it. But why shouldn't she think badly of him? He deserved no better. He'd been a disaster as a husband. Desirée La Fleur might as well know that from the start. If his guess was correct, she was here like so many other "pretty cousins" who came to New Orleans searching for the perfect mate—one who would provide marriage, home, children, security. He knew, too, that Placide and Nanine Duplantier thrived on making matches. This was not the first evening they had arranged for him to spend with a lovely young woman who was eminently marriageable. But such a thought—pleasant as it might be—was out of the question. The night he'd come home to the horrible scene of his wife's death, he had made a vow that he would never inflict himself upon another woman. He meant to keep that vow, no matter how strong his attraction was to any woman, even Desirée La Fleur!
"I didn't mean to shock you, but you did ask," he said at last.
Of its own accord, Desirée's hand went out to touch his. "I am sorry," she murmured.
" _Sorry?_ " The word exploded from Roman's lips. Her pity was the last thing he wanted. He caught her hand in a bruising grip, then slowly he brought it, palm up, to his lips, determined to make her feel something other than sympathy for him.
Desirée was still too stunned by her memories and Roman's revelations to react. She felt the warmth of his breath on her palm and a moment later the pressure of his lips scorching the tender flesh. But she made no move to pull away. Waves of tingling heat raced through her, blurring her vision. She closed her eyes, willing the pleasure and the dizziness away. She could not allow this man to work his black magic.
"I don't want to make another mistake with you, Desirée." Roman's whispered words seemed to drift to her from far away. In her present state, she could have imagined his voice for all she knew. "This afternoon when I kissed you," he continued softly, "I was only trying to silence Garnet, the naughty child. But, with your permission, I'd like to correct that error. Right now I feel the need to kiss Desirée, the lovely woman."
But he didn't wait for her permission. Capturing her in strong arms, he leaned down and pressed her lips with his own. He searched her mouth gently at first—a warm embrace of moist flesh. Desirée trembled at the delicacy of that initial contact. She felt an unfamiliar ache throbbing deep inside her. There was a longing to surrender. She shifted in his arms, bringing her body closer to his.
Sensing her need, Roman tightened his arms about her, crushing her firm breasts to his chest, causing her blood to quicken. His lips parted over hers, and she responded immediately to the sharp taste of his maleness, drawing in a quick breath before her tongue darted to meet his. His breathing became heavy and ragged when he tasted the warm sweetness of her open mouth. His hand sought her breasts. She tried to draw away.
"Don't!" he whispered. "Let me. I won't hurt you."
The touch of his hand sent fires flaming through Desirée. The heat of his palm against the cool bare mound of her breast, half-hidden within its golden casing, was like nothing she had ever experienced. It felt as if he held her thundering heart in his hand. She could no longer think. She could only feel and need.
Desirée trembled against him, returning his kiss hungrily. All the pent up love reserved from her lonely childhood and adolescent years boiled out of her heart, begging silently for Roman St. Vincent to claim it. Feelings, suppressed for a lifetime, raged through her, making her cling to him, beseeching without words.
Suddenly something more powerful than her need forced her to pull away. He released her without protest and stepped back. Desirée stared at him, her senses whirling with a mixture of longing, disappointment, and shock at her own action. She wanted him. Why was it impossible for her simply to accept him?
"Again you must forgive me, Mademoiselle La Fleur. I have no rights. I've overstepped my bounds. First, I tell you that I never intend to make a commitment again, then I go right ahead and take liberties."
A long silence followed. Desirée, fighting desperately, was regaining her control. She could _not_ let him know how deeply he affected her. When her trembling subsided, she forced a small laugh. It had the desired effect. Roman stared at her, dumbstruck.
"Desirée, this is serious business!" he said.
"Indeed, it is, my dear doctor! You realize, of course, that Nanine and Placide would be delighted by what just happened. They've decided to marry me off as quickly as possible. And, obviously, you, Roman, are their first choice."
"And what do you think of their choice, Desirée?"
She laughed, this time easily. "Ah, fishing for compliments, Doctor? I thought only women did that." She cocked her head thoughtfully, then continued. "Since you ask, I find you handsome, forceful, a good conversationalist, but a trifle too sure of yourself."
"Too sure of myself, eh?" He rubbed a nervous hand over his chin. "Yes, I suppose I have given that impression. I'll accept your verdict. Handsome, however, I must take exception to."
"And you, Roman? What do you think of me?" Desirée was half afraid to ask, but she had to know.
He grinned and mischievous blue lights danced in his eyes. "I think, dear lady, that you'd be wasted as a wife. But you'd make some lucky man a damn fine mistress!"
For a moment, Desirée was too shocked to answer. But immediately she realized that Roman was paying her a high compliment. It was, after all, an interesting thought. Granted, she never intended to marry, but she certainly had no plans to spend her entire life without love. Until this moment, she had given no thought to the complexity of her problem.
She looked him squarely in the eye, trying to be as serious as possible, and asked, "Is that a proposition?"
Now Roman was the one to show his shock. "Certainly not! What kind of a cad do you take me for, Mademoiselle?"
Desirée leaned a bit closer to him, and her face was serious. "An _honest_ cad, Doctor. And I'd prefer your sort anytime over a fraudulent _gentleman_. But we were discussing the plans of my cousins for us."
He nodded. "They've been trying to find a wife for me for four years now."
"And how have you escaped their attempts?"
Roman shrugged. "They can throw all the women at me they like, but they can't very well force me down on one knee to propose."
"There's no one you're seriously interested in?"
"No one!" As he spoke the words, his eyes caressed her warmly.
She smiled cunningly, and a mischievous light danced in her eyes. "Then, Doctor, I have a proposition for you. It would be to our mutual advantage." She paused and looked up at him. His quizzical expression told her he was interested.
"Go on. I'm listening, Desirée."
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
He quickly answered, "No!" But staring at the woman before him, still feeling the stir of his blood caused by their kiss, he wasn't so sure.
"I don't either," she answered. "But my cousins are a pair of incurable romantics. If we were to announce to them that we have been struck by love's lightning this very night, nothing could make them happier."
Roman was frowning now, studying Desirée closely. "I'm not sure I follow you."
"It's very simple! If Nanine and Placide think we've fallen madly in love, they won't bother either of us with their senseless matchmaking. You are an attractive man, as I said...."
Roman laughed aloud and offered Desirée an exaggerated bow. "I do thank you, Mademoiselle, for your kind remarks!"
"And interesting," she continued. "I think we could spend time together without boring each other to distraction."
Roman's gaze strayed to the partially covered breast that had so recently warmed his palm. "I'm almost sure of it," he replied, smiling down at her.
"Then why don't we make a pact? I'm no more interested in marriage than you are. Creole courtships are long, drawn out affairs. We could put off Nanine and Placide indefinitely by confessing to them that we are enamored of each other, but must make sure of our true affections before we wed."
Desirée was caught up in her bizarre plan. She could see by the expression on his face that Roman found the idea intriguing. Only one thing bothered her. She felt almost _too_ drawn to him to carry off such a charade. But, if that was the case, she decided, she was safer this way. If they both understood that they were only _pretending_ , then they did not have to take each other seriously. They could become good friends without other emotions intruding to complicate their relationship. At least, that was her plan.
"Does this mean I get to kiss you again to seal our pact?" Roman asked the question lightly, but a deep blue gleam was there in his eyes once more. This woman aroused him physically, but more than that, she aroused his curiosity. Why would such a lovely and passionate young female decide to go against society and remain single? He meant to uncover _all_ her secrets! "Well?" he prompted.
Before Desirée could answer, Nanine called from the back gallery, "Oh, there you two are! The other guests are leaving. Do come in and say good night to them."
For a long moment, Desirée and Roman stood still, gazing at each other. The glow of waking passion Desirée had felt moments before remained, tingling through her veins. What had she done? she wondered, with a sudden sense of dread. The half-hearted and uninspired caresses of Mr. Williamson had hardly prepared her for dealing with a man like Roman St. Vincent. Her former fiance's infrequent embraces had promised nothing, therefore she had expected exactly that from him. But Roman had opened new doors for her. Now she herself had slammed them shut with her outrageous proposal.
"Shall we, my dear?" Roman offered Desirée his arm and a dazzling smile. "We need to put on a good show for Nanine, remember."
Desirée took his arm and gazed up at him adoringly. She realized suddenly that her feelings, the warm glow of her emotions, had nothing to do with putting on a show for anyone. She had to get control of herself! She had things to accomplish here in New Orleans, and Dr. Roman St. Vincent could help her in more ways than one. She had made a pact with the man, and she _would_ stick to it!
"Well, you two certainly look pleased with yourselves," Nanine said, smiling.
"Thanks to you, dear lady," Roman answered, patting Desirée's hand affectionately and showering her with a smile that absolutely dripped with warmth.
"Yes, we should thank you, Nanine," Desirée purred. "I don't know how you guessed that Roman and I would get on so well."
Nanine's face broke into a delighted smile. "Why, I can't believe it! You mean you two..."
"I'll want to speak with Placide as head of the house, of course," Roman said, "but I have Desirée's permission already to pay her serious court."
Nanine clapped her hands. "Oh, this is just too marvelous!" she cried. "Come quickly! Let's tell the others good-bye, then we can surprise Placide with the news."
The rest of the evening went all too quickly to suit Desirée. Placide and Roman remained closeted in the library for nearly an hour, discussing the terms of the "courtship." Roman would be invited to dinner at the Duplantiers' any night that he was free and, of course, every Sunday. Given their ages and maturity, Roman and Desirée would not be bound by the chaperone rules, but would be allowed to go out alone together as long as they maintained respectable hours.
Placide was distressed about Desirée's lack of a dowry. Her father had left her next to nothing. He offered to put up the sum himself, but Roman refused, saying, "A woman as lovely and as loving as your cousin needs no dowry." Roman was quite surprised to realize that he meant those words sincerely. He, too, was getting quite caught up in the charade!
Desirée experienced no less of a quandary when it was time for Roman to say good night. Nanine and Placide silently slipped upstairs, leaving the two of them alone in the foyer. They stood staring at each other for a long moment. Desirée felt her cheeks begin to flame. She wanted him to kiss her. She chided herself silently for becoming as much a wanton as any woman in Storyville. But at least they did what they did to make a living. She had _no_ excuse!
"Well, I suppose I'll be leaving now," Roman said, making no move toward the door.
"Yes, it is late," Desirée answered. But she made no move either.
Finally, using all her willpower, Desirée offered her hand to him. "We ought to at least have a handshake on our pact."
Roman took her hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he drew her close to him. His lips came down, softly caressing hers. Desirée felt her whole body come to life. It was as if every nerve awoke to Roman's slightest touch. He not only kissed her lips, but stroked her soul.
"Sweet dreams, Desirée," he murmured softly. And then he was gone.
Long after the rest of the household was sleeping, Desirée sat at the vanity with her journal open before her, the white rose Roman had picked for her in the garden clutched in her hand. She stared at the blank page, trying to organize the kaleidoscope of her thoughts and emotions. Carefully, with flourished strokes, she penned the date then wrote:
> Today I arrived in New Orleans.
>
> Impressions: Contrasts—
> The Old and the New
> The Rich and the Poor
> The Beautiful and the Ugly
> The Happy and the Forlorn
> Incarceration and Freedom
> Today and Yesterday (Tomorrow?)
>
> Although I find New Orleans an enchanting city on the whole, I am perhaps looking at its historical beauty rather than its condition at the present time.
>
> The section called Frenchtown or the _Vieux Carre_ is little more than a slum now. The old Creole inhabitants have moved away to the Garden District or other outskirts of the original city. Immigrants now find refuge in the graceful old buddings—hanging their laundry over the delicate wrought iron of the galleries, tossing their refuse onto the banquettes. The streets want paving.
>
> In far better cosmetic condition is the district known as Storyville, though in moral tone, the worst in the city. How could it be that an open sore like this could afflict the area and be allowed to spread and fester without infecting the entire body of the city? It is not possible! Is it the sickness in itself or merely a symptom of a more serious illness which afflicts the whole of New Orleans?
> (Note: Do more research in this area for a possible article for the newspaper.)
Desirée set down her pen and started to close her journal, trying to avoid what she knew she must do. But the reflection of her own accusing eyes met her in the mirror. She held the rose to her lips, kissing its petals while she inhaled its heady perfume.
Besides functioning as a stockpile of impressions and ideas for her writing, the journal that she added to nightly served a deeper purpose. She filled it with truth—her most private thoughts and feelings. Under this heading tonight, one name came to mind, in bold type: Roman St. Vincent.
She picked up the pen tentatively, then closed her eyes to clear her mind of other thoughts. She concentrated on the doctor, delving deep within herself to know her mind and her heart. When she put pen to paper, her hand trembled with emotion.
> Today I met a man. What part he will play in this New Orleans drama is unclear to me as yet. We have made a pact to _appear_ to be in love. This will serve to keep others at a distance. Neither of us wants marriage. I have my work, and he has his. Still, there seems a strong attachment between us. I fear it is a thing of the body and the glands alone. Certainly, any feelings between us are of this earth, with no heavenly involvement. But, surely, if I am the director of my fate, I will cast him in a major role.
>
> Although I declare myself a modern woman—self-sufficient, knowledgeable, mature, dependent upon no one—I find that his slightest touch or even a look from him reduces me to a lonely child again. A child reaching out, wanting, needing to love and to be loved. But beyond these childish longings, Roman St. Vincent stirs in me a woman's passions. A need for physical as well as spiritual love. I blush even as I write this! Yet I feel an almost sinful need when he is near.
>
> God spare me from myself!
Desirée closed her journal carefully—nervously—as if she were holding her own heart in her hands. Never before had she committed such intimacies to paper. But never before had she felt such a turmoil of emotions. They both thrilled and terrified her.
But Roman St. Vincent would never know. She must never allow it. A pact was a pact! Besides, there was still the nagging question of whether he might have a secret mistress. Desirée wanted no part of sharing any man with another woman.
She tried to force her thoughts to other matters—Mrs. Stanton's noble admonitions, the pressing need for reform in the city, her writing, even the woman named Garnet. But time after time, her mind's eye locked in on the grave, arrogant features of Roman St. Vincent.
What secrets lurked behind those storm-blue eyes? What did he really think of her? Why did she feel drawn to him as she never had to another man? And most important: How could she pretend that their courtship meant nothing more to her than an arrangement of convenience?
Sleep would not come, she knew. She hid her journal safely away, then went to the window seat to watch the dawn color the spring gardens along Prytania Street.
The slow clip-clop of a horse's hooves drew her attention to a lone buggy coming up the street. Suddenly, her heart quickened, her pulse raced. She leaned forward to get a better view.
Then, forcing herself away from the windows, she climbed into the great tester bed.
"You're being absurd, Desirée!" she told herself. "There must be hundreds of black buggies with yellow wheels in New Orleans!"
###
# Chapter Four
The tall case clock in the library of the house on Esplanade Street struck two as Roman St. Vincent arrived home. After leaving Desirée, he'd driven aimlessly through the dark, narrow streets of the old city for what seemed hours before his horse of her own accord finally turned the buggy toward the bam. Still, he felt unsettled. The whole day had left him confused and weary, but he knew he would get little sleep during what was left of the night.
As he entered the front door, he nodded to his valet, Jules, who, from habit of long years, always waited up for him. The old man took Roman's hat and cane, and placed them on the mirrored hall tree.
"You like something to help you sleep tonight, M'sieur?"
Roman laughed. "Am I that transparent, Jules?"
The antiquated, white-haired servant shook his head. "You got all the signs of a man what worries too much, M'sieur Roman. Ain't good for a body, I keeps telling you. Don't do for the tail to wag the dog."
Roman patted the old man on one sloping shoulder. "You've talked me into it. I'll have a brandy, please."
Roman sprawled in a wing chair, his long legs stretched out before him, and stared absently into the mirror across the room. He studied the lines in his face. Jules was right, he did need sleep.
But how could he sleep when his head was filled with thoughts of Desirée La Fleur? Her perfume still lingered in his senses. He could almost feel the warmth of her breasts and the softness of her lips. The taste of mint from her mouth lingered yet on his tongue. How long had it been since any woman had had such a devastating effect on him? He sighed.
My life is filled with my work, he thought. I'm happy, content at least. Why must a woman come into the picture to muddy the waters? I don't need that!
"I don't need _her_! he said aloud. But he knew he was lying to himself. "By God, she's a beauty," he mused. "Sweet innocence and fiery passion packaged enticingly." It mattered little that she swore she'd never marry. Marriage was the last thing Roman had on his mind. But as he had told her, pretending to make light, she'd make a damn fine mistress. And so she would! But she wasn't the type, he knew, to consent to any sort of casual relationship. So where did that leave him?
He growled low in his throat and frowned into the mirror. " _Nowhere_! Exactly nowhere!" They were partners in a loveless sham of a courtship. Why, he wondered, had he ever agreed to such a ridiculous pact?
Suddenly, his thoughts turned to Garnet. Garnet and Desirée... Desirée and Garnet. Mirror images, just as much alike as his own face was to the one now staring back at him. Could it be that two women who shared identical features had no blood ties? And weren't Garnet's redeeming qualities—even hidden as they were under her tough facade—the same as those Desirée possessed? Had fate been tampered with and Garnet thrust into a gender environment, while Desirée, _perish the thought_ , found herself an inmate of Storyville, wouldn't they slip into each other's roles easily? The unanswered questions swirled through his brain like flood waters in the Mississippi.
Jules shuffled back into the room with the requested brandy, but Roman waved it away.
"Never mind. I've changed my plans. I'm going out."
"But she's raining out there, M'sieur."
"Then bring my cape."
Jules knew from long experience that Roman St. Vincent was given to walking the streets of the _Vieux Carre_ on his restless nights. Objections would prove fruitless. Many doubts had plagued Roman since his wife's death, and his night-wanderings seemed his only relief. Jules brought the long, black cape, then waited respectfully until his master left the house before hurrying off to bed to sleep what little remained of the night.
Outside the rain fell in a gentle mist—cool and cleansing. Roman took a deep breath, clearing his head and filling his lungs with crisp air spiced with smells of the river, the mossy mold of ancient bricks, and the ever-lingering aromas of gumbo and coffee with chicory.
He set out at a brisk pace for the French Market and the café there that stayed open all night, serving the world—late partygoers, early risers, and the teamsters and farmers who came in the wee hours to stock the stalls with produce before servants and housewives appeared to go about their marketing for the day.
Settling himself at one of the round, marble-topped tables, he motioned for the sleepy-eyed waiter to bring him doughnuts and café au lait. Outside, the air teemed with an exotic babel of languages—the Cajun patois spoken by the farmers, trappers, and fishermen of the bayou districts.
Roman leaned back, the thick, white cup between his palms. His thoughts turned once again to the two women. He'd heard that everyone in the world had a double, but for such a pair to both find their paths into his life... _Incredible_!
He shook his head. There had to be a logical explanation. But what could it be?
He sprinkled more sugar over his _beignet_ from the heavy shaker on the table and munched thoughtfully on the chewy, deep-fried pastry, then quaffed down the rest of his coffee. His mind was made up. He had to see Garnet immediately, to test his own senses for accuracy.
Walking the short distance to Jackson Square, he hailed a hack. "Take me to Basin Street, driver. To Mahogany Hall."
The black driver turned a toothless grin on him. "Madam Lulu, she don't take kindly to no early morning visitors, suh. She mighty Gawd strict about that rule. Big Harry douses them red lanterns out front come three o'clock of a morning. Don't mind what kind of hard-on a feller got, he gone just have to live with it or go on down to Conti Street to one of them crib whores to get his ashes hauled."
Roman St. Vincent knew full well of Lulu White's working hours, but he insisted, "Mahogany Hall, driver. You heard me!"
The derbied cabby clucked to the bag of bones that passed for a horse. "You's the boss man."
The travel-worn hack crawled down St. Ann Street to Congo Square. This center of voodoo culture was all but deserted at such an early hour. Turning onto Rampart Street, they had only a short distance to go before reaching Bienville and the tenderloin district, named derisively, "Storyville."
"Stop here," Roman called to the cabby when they reached the corner of Bienville and Basin. He looked up the street and down, noting that only two or three red lanterns still cast their glow of invitation over the banquette.
"See! I done told you, mister. They's all shut up for the night. You want I should take you on back?"
"No," Roman answered, climbing down and paying his fare.
"You mind yourself now, you hear?" The driver warned. "Wouldn't do, you wandering all alone over to that bad section back of the cemetery. They's fancy men, it-men. All kinds of low-lifes hangs out around there. They just waitin' for a fine gentleman like yourself to come along unawares. Keeps their chivs, handy-andys, and hoglegs ready to gut a body, bash in his head, or blow a good-size hole through him. And some of them whores ain't about to think twice 'fore they sandbags a feller. Yessiree, this here's a bad part of town, mister!"
Roman St. Vincent thanked the driver for his warnings. The man obviously thought he was a stranger to New Orleans. He knew all these dangers were very real. But he knew Storyville, and its inhabitants recognized him. No such disasters would befall him here.
The saloon on the corner of Bienville, which adjoined Lulu White's garish sex emporium, showed no signs of life. Roman hurried past it, glancing up at the landmark cupola atop Mahogany Hall. Big Harry had pulled down the blinds and turned out the flames in the twin, red-shaded lanterns out front. But faint light glowed here and there on the second floor. He noted that Garnet's room was dark.
He started up the broad stairs to the massive front door, topped by a decorative fanlight window of stained glass, bearing the legend "LULU WHITE 235." He noted a tip lying in wait on the step for the cop on the beat, a holdover at Lulu's from the pre-Storyville days when the madam and her girls had to pay for protection—a quarter a trick. Nowadays, it was just a show of generosity on Lulu's part.
"Hold on there, mister!" a voice called from the street. "A mite late to be out lookin' for a romp in the kip, I'm thinking. Lulu's closed. I'll have to ask you to move along. The girls needs their beauty sleep. Come around say ten tonight."
Roman turned to the policeman standing at the foot of the stone steps. "Mooney? Is that you, man?"
The officer, long on Lulu White's payroll, laughed. "Beggin' your pardon, Doc! I hadn't a notion it was you. Thought you was some latecomer out nosing around for a good time. And I sure didn't want Lulu turning Big Harry loose on you. Makes a bloody mess, the brute does! But you go on up. And a good evenin' to you."
The rotund Irish policeman tipped his hat, collected his gratuity, and ambled on down Basin Street whistling.
Roman knocked and heard quick, sharp footsteps inside. General Jack Johnson, Lulu's black midget doorman answered. He snapped Roman a sharp salute, then grinned, showing big teeth as spanking white as his uniform.
"Evenin', Doc. Help ya'?"
"I know it's late, but I need to see Garnet if she's not busy at the moment."
Just then Lulu herself came out of the parlor, the menacing house bully, Big Harry, striding protectively at her side, ready to eject any troublemaker.
Roman smiled at the famous madam, who boasted in the Blue Book "a house filled with 40 of the prettiest, the swellest, octoroons in the World." Dressed in a frou-froued peignoir, she wore enough diamonds at her throat and wrists, on her fingers, and in the red wig that covered her dark hair to finance a small revolution. Her addiction to the glittery stones had earned Lulu the nickname "Queen of Diamonds" among the demimondaines and her patrons.
"Roman, love," she crooned. "A bit late to be paying a call, don't you think?"
"I'm sorry, Lulu, but I need to see Garnet. I wouldn't barge in at this hour if it weren't important."
She let her long-clawed fingers fondle his cheek for a moment. "Has my door ever been closed to you, darling? Oh, if I were only a few years younger. But it's Garnet you want to see." Lulu's smile faded suddenly. "It's not bad news about her ma, I hope."
"No. Garnet's mother is holding her own."
"That's good!" Lulu White's smile renewed itself as she let her startling blue eyes caress Roman's broad shoulders and trim waist before she bellowed, "Hildie!"
The harried, old chambermaid, who worked upstairs changing linen after each customer, lumbered down the polished wood stairs. She didn't smile when she saw Roman St. Vincent. Hildie hated all men and treated each woman at Mahogany Hall like her own daughter. She eyed the doctor suspiciously before saying, "She's alone, but she ain't goin' to be happy to see nobody else tonight. That last one was her seventh. Unlucky number. He wasn't acting like no gentleman neither, I can tell you! She ain't feeling too good right now. I don't think you should let this one pester her, Miss Lulu."
"Shut up your yap, Hildie!" Lulu scolded. "The doc here can see her any damn time he pleases. You know the way, Roman. Maybe you can do something to make her feel better. She's been right rabbity all night. I had Hildie give her a hooker of gin earlier, but it didn't seem to help. She's awful worried about her ma."
Roman only nodded in reply as he started up the stairs. From behind the closed doors, a variety of sounds reached his ears—bedsprings thumping, women crying or sighing, men snoring or groaning. But not a whisper came from within Garnet's room.
The door flew open the minute he knocked. He started to speak, but she cut him off.
"Where have you been? I thought you'd never show up. How is she?"
The young woman before him looked older than her seventeen years. Fine lines were etched about her mouth and eyes. She wore only a paisley piano shawl, draped carelessly over one shoulder and knotted below the waist on the other side so that one breast rose from the low fold, giving Roman a glimpse of cerise-tinted nipple against the paler hue of her skin. Black curls frolicked about her sultry face. But beneath all the powder and paint, Roman could see troubled, little-girl eyes staring at him. Hazel eyes, with faint golden stars around the pupils like those he saw when he gazed at Desirée.
"I told you I probably wouldn't know anything until tomorrow, Garnet. Her fever is down. She's resting comfortably. That's all I can tell you right now."
Her face lost its angry scowl, and tears pooled, webbing her lashes. She came to Roman's arms for comfort. "Tell me she ain't going to die, Doc," she begged.
"She'll be fìne in a few days, Garnet." He held her away at arm's length and studied her face. "But what about you? Lulu and Hildie told me you had a bad time of it tonight."
"It's nothing. Just that crazy friend of yours. He got a little too frisky. Kept saying how I'd teased him earlier today. He must of been drunk. Hell, Doc, I been in bed all day sleeping!"
"L'Enfant, you mean?"
She answered with a humorless laugh and nodded. "How many crazy friends do you have? But don't worry about it. I'm okay."
"Don't lie to me, Garnet!" He raised his voice in anger—not at her, but at Yves L'Enfant for mistreating her. L'Enfant's new job as Lulu's bag man, delivering her payoffs to the city's high officials, seemed to have gone to the man's head. Lately, he'd played rough with several of the girls. Roman determined to have it out with him this time.
Garnet quickly retreated from his rage, turning her back on him so that he couldn't see the further pain his tone inflicted. She'd loved Roman St. Vincent since she was twelve. He'd tended her after her first, near-disastrous encounter with a man. As her emotional scars deepened with the years, so did her feelings for this one stable male in her life. But he refused to see her as other than a child who still needed to be taken care of.
God, it hurts to love! she thought. But what really hurt was not being loved back.
Struggling to keep her emotions under control, Garnet turned to face him once more. "I'd never lie to you, Doc. You know that. You're the only real friend I've ever had. Why, my mama'd be in her grave now if it wasn't for you! And I'd of been carted off to the ice house long ago."
Roman stood silent, examining Garnet's face for a long time. The two women were _not_ identical! Yes, the eyes were the same, but Desirée's nose had a more sculpted elegance than Garnet's, he noted with slight relief. But they were more alike than different. There was that whimsical tilt of Garnet's chin, the very same as Desirée's, and the deep, sultry way they both laughed. He shook his head, unable to comprehend the similarities in the pair.
"What's got into you, Doc?" His close scrutiny unnerved her.
"I saw a woman today, Garnet."
Her poppy-red lips curled in a sarcastic smile. "You see a woman any day you please, don't you? _Any_ woman will do so long as it's not me!"
They had had this discussion before. It never failed to make Roman furious. He knew Garnet wanted him to make love to her. But he couldn't. It would be like taking his own daughter to bed.
"Who I see or don't see is none of your business and has nothing to do with the subject. Now just stop this before it starts, Garnet. What I was about to say was that I saw your double today. You said L'Enfant was talking crazy. Well, he had a good reason. He saw her, too. So did Officer O'Reilly. We all thought she was you, Garnet, you look that much alike."
"Heaven help the poor woman, if she got mixed up with O'Reilly! No good bastard! Why I'd like to..."
Roman put up his hand to stop her tirade. He'd heard all this before, too. She had little love for any member of the New Orleans police force—Officer O'Reilly least of all.
"Garnet, it's late. Please let me finish without interruptions. I need to talk to you about this other woman. I think perhaps the two of you may be related. There's no other way to account for the uncanny resemblance. How tar back in your childhood can you remember?"
She raised one dark brow thoughtfully, then frowned. "Nothing at all before I was about five. My ma always told me I got kicked in the head by a mule, playing under a beer wagon outside her crib down in Smoky Row. She said it clean knocked the senses out of me."
"So that den of hot-sheet hotels is your earliest memory?" He grimaced, thinking how awful it must have been for a child to grow up in that hellhole of nickel-a-throw cribs and flatboats-turned-cathouses along the waterfront. It had been called Smoky Row for the dark-skinned women who lived and worked there.
"Did your mother ever say who your father was?"
Garnet shrugged, looking disinterested. "I doubt if she knew her own self. You know how it is, Doc. Maybe a dozen tricks a night. More back then 'cause the crib trade was real big. And at a couple of picayunes a throw, there wasn't hardly no man that couldn't buy what he wanted whenever the spirit moved him."
"So you really don't have any proof as to who your parents were or where you were born?"
Garnet, with her hands on her shapely hips, looked up at him, dumbstruck. "You've got the plumb-crazies, Doc! _Yes_ , I know who my parents are! My mama's been both to me! What call would she have to tell me I'm her daughter if I'm not? Look at me!" She pulled her long curly hair out from each side of her head. "That ain't Creole, Doc! That's high-yeller kink! As for my skin being lighter than hers, Mama always catered to the white trade." Her voice was rising, becoming nearly hysterical. "You got to shut up with this crazy talk about me being somebody I ain't. If Lulu even suspects I might be white, she'll bounce me out of Mahogany Hall so fast it'll have my head swimming. This house is known far and wide for its color. A white gal in the place would be bad for business. And the law would be on us sure as mean on a pimp! Now, you leave it lay, Doc! I mean it! I make a good living here, and I mean to stay!" She was almost in tears as she whimpered, "Besides, where would I go? What could I do?"
Roman hadn't realized his speculation would upset her so. He took her into his arms and smoothed one hand down over her mussed hair, trying to calm her.
"Hush now, honey! You know I won't say anything to Lulu about this. But it seems to me you're making an awful fuss. Do you know something you're not telling me?"
Garnet hung her head, letting her long curls hide her expression from Roman. Lord, there was nothing she wouldn't tell him when he held her and asked real nice like that. But still...
"It ain't nothing," she said quietly.
"Then tell me, Garnet."
"Just the blatherings of an old idiot."
"What old idiot?" he demanded. "Give me a name."
She sighed resignedly. It had been a long, rough night. She couldn't defend herself against Roman St. Vincent's third degree or his gentle voice and caressing hands.
Garnet looked up at him with a bemused smile of surrender. "You worry a question like a dog worries a bone, Doc. All right, I'll tell you, but it won't make no difference. A old woman that used to work for Spanish Agnes, procuring."
He looked hard at her, and his blue eyes deepened to near-black with rage. "Are you telling me your mama sold you to that old witch?"
"It ain't like you're thinking, Doc! Ma didn't want to sell me. She _had_ to to save me! Besides, Spanish Agnes did right by me. She could have sold me off to one of them fancy men who'd of set me up in a crib. But instead she sent me to a first-rate house." She lifted her chin to a proud tilt and added, "Mahogany Hall's the best!"
"Mothers don't _sell_ their daughters, Garnet!"
"I told you, Doc. My ma had her reasons!" she snapped back at him. "She was keeping me pure!"
Roman threw up his hands. "Now I've heard everything! She sold you to a whore house to keep you pure?"
"Yeah! We had problems, Doc. You gotta understand. Mama was doing the only kind of work she could find to keep us from starving. I looked older than I really was, and my ma said the Johns kept watching me real lustful-like and pestering her to make it a threesome. She was afraid that one of them might take it into his head to do me some night, and she couldn't stop him. Spanish Agnes had been making offers for me, but Mama'd always turn her down. Then the men troubles started, and Agnes promised my ma she'd send me to a high-class establishment as a maid till I was old enough to know what I wanted." She hung her head, and her face went solemn. "Things just didn't work out, that's all."
"They certainly didn't," he said softly, aching deep inside for the pain she had known when a drunken customer caught the young girl in the upstairs hallway and used her cruelly. "But you haven't finished your story, Garnet. Who was the old woman and what did she tell you?"
"Her name was Samolena. She's dead now. But the day she picked me up from Mama's shack and took me to 98 Burgundy Street, Spanish Agnes's 'employment agency,' I heard her telling her boss lady that I was 'prime stuff.' She said Mama claimed I wasn't a mulatto, but a Creole from good family. She said my real folks were dead."
Roman caught her hand, his own shaking with excitement. But Garnet just shook her head at him.
"There ain't a grain of truth in it, Doc. Mama wanted the best price she could get out of old Agnes. But that woman knew of me from way back. She didn't believe a word of it. She paid the going price for a octoroon virgin—two hundred dollars—and sent me here to Mahogany Hall."
"And you don't remember any other family?"
"I told you, Doc, no! You can't remember somethin' that never was! Now can't we just drop it? There's other things I'd rather do." She sidled up to him and pressed her body close to his. Her arms slipped up around his neck.
"It's late, Garnet, and you should get some rest," he whispered against her fragrant hair.
"Kiss me first?" she pleaded. "Just once?"
She offered him parted lips. Slowly, Roman bent and found her mouth. But unconsciously he was still making comparisons. His kiss this time offered the recipient no promise of rapture. Still, Garnet accepted whatever she could get.
When he closed the door on his way out, Garnet fell to her bed, the shawl about her sliding up to expose long legs encased in green and black striped silk stockings. She let tears slip un-hindered down her cheeks, thinking of how it could be with Roman St. Vincent, if only he would let it happen. But he always held back. He just plain didn't want her!
With the men she serviced nightly, she considered her status the same as the brass spittoons that graced every room of the house. As the customers shot their streams of tobacco juice into the obsequious, metal repositories without a thought or a second glance, so they spewed their juices into the receptacle of her body.
But with Roman St. Vincent, love could be so different. In his arms, she could fly! She'd leave her life at Lulu White's Mahogany Hall far behind. Let this place drown in its own slime! She'd climb to where the air was clean, fresh, golden-blue. She'd live! She'd love Roman St. Vincent with the passion of an angel!
She flung herself off the bed and raced down the hall to catch him before he left.
"Hey, Doc, wait up!" she called over the banister.
He glanced up at her from the bottom of the stairs, his handsome face lit with expectation. "Did you remember something, Garnet?"
"No, Doc. Just a question. This woman—what's her name?" She tried not to look or sound as curious as she really was. "You know, the one that looks like me."
"Desirée La Fleur."
"Thanks, Doc," she called, and then she was gone.
She closed the door of her room and went to the mirror, examining her features closely. "Desirée." She tested the sound of the name. Then her face turned into a grimace of pain and loathing. She pounded her fists on the bureau and screamed into the mirror, "I hate you! I hate you, Desirée La Fleur! He wants you... the same way that I want him!"
Roman St. Vincent returned to Esplanade Street just as the sun was coming up. He started into the house, but changed his mind. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. The two faces chased unceasingly through his mind. Desirée and Garnet... Garnet and Desirée...
He went into the stable behind the house and hitched his horse to the yellow-wheeled buggy.
"Maybe a ride along the river will clear my head, old girl," he said, patting his black mare's neck.
But to his own surprise, he found himself heading away from the river, into the Garden District, drawn to the Greek Revival house on Prytania Street.
###
# Chapter Five
Desirée's first week in New Orleans passed quickly, in a colorful collage of calls paid and received, dinners, card parties, and a hundred new faces. It was all very nice, but not in the least why Desirée had come to this city. She had to find a job, and after several days, she finally enlisted Placide's help. He was most generous in inviting the managing editor of the _Times-Picayune_ to dinner and praising his cousin's talents to the skies in the man's presence.
Although the hefty, cigar-smoking editor had seemed quite taken with Desirée herself, his interest in her writing was less than enthusiastic. The evening, she felt, had been a disastrous waste of time. She crossed the _Times-Picayune_ off her list, feeling a tremendous letdown.
But her enthusiasm returned the following morning when she found the butler, Raoul, devouring the gossipy news in a tabloid called the _Mascot_. He was in the kitchen, regaling Amaryllis on the latest happenings in the district, when Desirée walked in and helped herself to a piece of fruit.
"What's that you're reading, Raoul?" The man quickly hid the paper behind his back. "Let me see it," Desirée demanded.
"Oh please, Mam'zelle! You won't tell Madame, will you? She has forbidden this newspaper in the house."
Already Desirée had the copy of the _Mascot_ in her hands, and was perusing its contents. The cover of the five-cent weekly showed an artist's grisly conception of the Red-light Ripper slashing his latest victim's throat. The column Raoul had been reading was headed, "Society: The Doings of the Week as Gathered by Bas Bleu."
Almost immediately, Desirée realized that the "society" being written about in Bas Bleu's column consisted solely of the infamous inhabitants of Storyville. One item in particular caught her eye: "Miss Garnet Gold, that well-known beauty of Miss Lulu White's establishment, wishes her friends and fellows to know that an imposter is in town, claiming to be her. Beware, gentlemen! Those who have encountered this pretty fraud swear that she is Garnet's twin, but add that she is in no way the jolly good fellow we know at Mahogany Hall. We would like very much to meet this person, so that we might report to you firsthand."
Desirée bristled. How dare they print such lies! Then she smiled. So they wanted an interview, did they? Well, they would have it! And a new reporter in the bargain. The _Mascot_ was obviously a scandal sheet. But it covered the area Desirée was most interested in. She was determined to see Storyville and to meet and befriend the poor women who were held captive there. The _Mascot_ was her ticket to the inside.
Yes, they would give her a job or else!
The noon sun had set the city steaming before Desirée awoke the next day. When she first opened her eyes, the haze of mosquito netting enclosing the bed made her think she was still locked in misty dreams. But soon the night's images faded, leaving behind only odd fuzzy memories in her brain. Stretching and yawning, she glanced at the clock on the writing desk.
"Noon!" She shot out of bed, deeply embarrassed by her own laziness.
A soft knock came at the door as she was pulling on her robe.
"Yes?"
"Oh, good! You're awake." Nanine's voice came muffled through the cypress door.
Desirée hurried to greet her. "Nanine, do come in. Why did you let me sleep so late?"
Her cousin's lovely wife presented a perfect hourglass figure to her guest in her gown of striped changeable silk in rose, green, and brown. Although Nanine smiled brightly, Desirée noted a tired look in her blue eyes. Probably a result of last night's late-staying dinner guests.
"I decided you needed the rest after such a busy week. Since we have no other plans today, I thought we might go shopping this afternoon, Desirée. The stores along Canal Street carry the very latest styles from Paris."
Desirée had no wish to go shopping. The dull-hued serges, ducks, and twills of her wardrobe suited her fine. Shopping, most women's favorite sport, was to Desirée a waste of time. Her clothes-buying excursions took place once a year, and she bought everything she might require for the next twelve months. In between her shopping trips, unless she desperately needed something, she went without.
Besides, she'd meant to go to the _Mascot_ this very afternoon. There was no time to lose. New Orleans was rotting from the core. She needed to begin her work. With her pen and her fire, she was sure she could make the light of reform blaze through the very heart of Louisiana's old queen city. She was also determined to meet Garnet Gold.
Looking into Nanine's pleading face, though, she knew she could not disappoint her best friend. With a sigh of resignation, she realized that before suppertime she would be decked out, at Nanine's insistence, in corsets, bustles, silks, and taffetas, purchased with most of her emergency reserve of cash left over from her writing prize. She also understood that her burning desire to become a reporter would have to wait until after the shopping expedition.
Desirée feigned a smile of enthusiasm. "That sounds delightful. I won't be long dressing."
"Fine. I'll wait for you downstairs, dear."
Desirée's smile quickly turned to a puzzled frown. She could swear a look of relief crossed Nanine's face for just an instant when she agreed to the shopping trip. She knew her clothes were not the latest styles, but she had trouble imagining why that should distress her friend so.
She brushed the thought aside. She'd simply been out of the South too long. Small matters took on giant-sized proportions down here where the weather was hot, the tempo of life slow, and time was abundant to mull over mole hills, turning them into mountains. Nanine had always been sensitive about what other people thought. She was only anxious for Desirée to fit in. And Desirée had to admit that she did resemble a weed in a rose garden among Nanine's fashionable friends. Desirée, always willing to please her cousin's wife, decided she would do her very best in this instance, even if it meant buying a ridiculous bustle and pointy-toed shoes which would torture her feet.
In only a short while, Desirée, dressed in plain brown twill and a hat meant more for shielding her face than adorning her person, joined Nanine downstairs. Once again she noted a worried look clouding her friend's face, but it vanished quickly. Whatever the problem, Desirée mused, it was more serious than Paris fashions.
"Shall we go?" Nanine said cheerily. "I hope you don't mind taking the St. Charles streetcar. It seems a needless waste to haul a servant along to drive us and keep him waiting the whole afternoon."
"That's sensible of you, Nanine. I do hate to see anyone's time wasted." The other woman failed to detect the veiled implication of Desirée's words.
Nanine was unusually silent as they walked toward the streetcar stop. Desirée noticed, too, that she kept glancing back over her shoulder as if she thought someone might be following them.
"Is something wrong, Nanine?" she asked finally.
Her friend trilled a nervous laugh. "Of course not, dear. Whatever makes you ask such a thing?"
"You seem nervous, upset."
As they boarded the car, Nanine made a great task of finding the correct change in order to avoid answering. Once they were settled in their seats, the rattle and clang of the swaying car made further conversation impossible. But Desirée kept a sharp eye on her friend's face. Yes, she decided, something was definitely wrong.
All through the browsing, showings, and fittings at the great department store, Maison Blanche, Nanine seemed distracted. Desirée patiently allowed herself to be outfitted with far more than she felt she needed. Finally, when the last feathered hat and pair of lace gloves had been selected, she breathed a great sigh of relief.
"Deliver all the parcels to my address," Nanine told the beaming clerk.
"Certainly, Madame Duplander," the saleswoman answered. "And may I say it has been all my pleasure, serving you and your charming cousin. If I may be of any further service in the future..."
Uncharacteristically, Nanine turned her back on the woman before even allowing her to finish. She was still speaking as Nanine swept through the glass doors onto the sunny corner of Canal and Dauphine streets. Desirée watched her glance this way and that. A moment later, her skirts sweeping the dusty banquette, she set off at a fast pace down Dauphine, into the heart of the French Quarter.
"Nanine!" Desirée called as her friend turned into Iberville. "Wait for me!"
Not until they were walking at a brisk pace, side by side, did Placide's wife reveal her purpose and the reason for her queer behavior.
"Where are we going?" Desirée demanded. "The Garden District is in the other direction."
"I know." Nanine's voice sounded flat, toneless, but set with grim purpose.
"Well, then?"
"I have an appointment to keep," Nanine replied. "I hate dragging you along, but, to be truthful, I was afraid to go alone into the district."
All sorts of wild thoughts flew through Desirée's brain. What on earth would draw her cousin's prim and proper wife to the city's notorious tenderloin? Granted, Desirée was more than game for the adventure, but she couldn't imagine Nanine proposing such an excursion.
"Does Placide know about this?" Desirée demanded.
Nanine stopped and turned to Desirée. "Of course, he doesn't! And he mustn't know, not until the time is right."
"Nanine, what kind of secrets are you keeping from your husband? You aren't meeting another man?"
Nanine stopped abruptly and gave Desirée a horrified look. "Of course not! How could you think such a thing?"
"I simply don't know what to think. Why don't you explain it all to me?"
Nanine was hurrying on now. "Placide and I have the perfect marriage," she answered, "except for one thing."
"What's that?" Desirée asked.
Nanine lowered her head so that the wide brim of her flowered straw hat shielded her face from her companion. "I'm barren," she said quietly. "I can never have a child."
Desirée stopped short at the words. She had known Nanine for many years. As girls at the convent school, long before their college days, they had spent hours sharing their most private dreams and secrets. Even now she could recall the glow of Nanine's face, the fervor in her voice as she confided, "I will love the man I marry with all my heart. I will make him the finest home you could ever imagine. And I will give him at least ten children so that he knows how very dear he is to me!"
"Barren," Desirée repeated. It was worse than she'd imagined. A Creole wife without children was a woman unfulfilled, a woman who had let her husband down in her first line of duty. "But, Nanine, how can you be sure?"
"Dr. St. Vincent is seldom mistaken about such things, nor would he lie to me. He knows how desperately Placide and I long for a child."
"But what does this have to do with your going to the district? I don't understand."
"I'm trying to explain," Nanine replied. "It isn't easy, Desirée." She paused, sighed, and wiped her brow. "I've seen other doctors. They all agree with Roman. So now I must make other arrangements. There's a woman in Burgundy Street who places children." She paused again, her voice failing her suddenly. "I'm going to adopt a child, Desirée."
Desirée had read enough in the _Mascot_ to realize that no adoption agency would be located within New Orleans's infamous red-light district. More likely, Nanine was headed for an "employment agency" like the ones she'd read about in one shocking article in the tabloid. And the child, probably the unwanted offspring of a prostitute and one of her tricks, would be purchased, not adopted.
"How did you find out about this agency, Nanine?" Desirée asked suspiciously.
"Through a doctor."
"Roman?"
"Oh, no! He'd never..." Nanine broke off in mid-sentence, a look of deep distress in her cornflower eyes.
Desirée stopped and caught her arm. "Nanine, you know you can't go through with this. Placide would never allow it. You must discuss it with him before you do anything drastic."
" _No!_ " Nanine gasped, tears filling her eyes. "Please, Desirée! I've always trusted you. You must promise that you will keep this a secret. At least for the time being."
Desirée felt sympathy for the other woman, but she could not condone such drastic action. There had to be another way. "Perhaps we could talk to Roman about it," Desirée suggested. "Surely, he would keep it confidential. And he might be able to help."
Tears now were streaking Nanine's cheeks. Her eyes held a wild look as if she were suddenly trapped, with nowhere to turn. "Desirée, you don't understand. I tried to discuss this with Roman. He refused to be a party to it. You see, what I'm doing isn't exactly an accepted practice hereabouts."
"You mean it's _illegal_? Nanine!" Desirée couldn't get her thoughts straight. The situation was totally bizarre. Here was the girl who had once felt such guilt when the two of them sneaked in after curfew at college that she had turned herself in, drawing a month's detention for her "crime." She couldn't imagine Nanine doing anything that wasn't positively open and aboveboard.
Desirée felt Nanine's hot, dry hand grip her wrist She stared down into her pale, pleading eyes. "I beg of you, Desirée! Come with me! Help me!"
Knowing she couldn't let her friend down, Desirée nodded. They moved on along the filth-strewn banquette, turning onto Burgundy Street.
Nanine glanced up, searching for street numbers. "The number of the house is six sixty-six."
Desirée shuddered. Even the number had an evil connotation.
Finally, they spotted the place—a once-grand townhouse, gone seedy and saggy. Garbage littered the street. The peeling front door was layered with grime. The windows, like sad eyes, were caked with soot, and the cracked panes had been stuffed with rags to keep out the rain and the cold. A tired-looking black woman answered Nanine's timid knock. She eyed the pair with suspicious, yellow-tinged eyes.
"Yeah?" she said, squinting at them and the bright sun outside.
"I've come to see Miss Agnes," Nanine said timidly.
The woman ushered them into the dusty hallway and disappeared up the stairs. A moment later, a heavy woman dressed in billows of faded satin waddled down the steep steps. "Help you, ladies?" she rasped.
Nanine's voice, thin and shrill, sounded with a hollow echo in the hall below. "Dr. Swenson sent me. He said I might speak with Miss Agnes about finding a child."
The woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. She stood before them, looking both Nanine and Desirée up and down before she answered. "See here, I don't know what tales that old quack's been spreadin' around, but I don't deal in kidnappings. Never have! If your baby's missin', go report it to the police."
"No, no!" Nanine said quickly. "I haven't _lost_ my child. I want to adopt one."
The harsh lines around Agnes's mouth and eyes relaxed. She chuckled hoarsely. "Well, now, that's altogether different. Come into my parlor."
The two women followed Agnes into a room off the hall. Desirée was all eyes, taking in every inch of her surroundings, mentally composing a story for the _Mascot_. So this was one of the infamous "employment agencies," where young girls were brought to be sold to brothels in New Orleans or sent as far away as Galveston when orders for virgins came in. The very thought made her shudder.
Agnes took a seat on a sagging sofa and motioned the two of them to sit. Then she clapped her plump hands sharply. A moment later, the black woman appeared at the door.
"Ma'am?" she said.
"These ladies are interested in buying, Cinder. Send down those two that came in yesterday. She might find one of them to her liking."
Desirée felt sick at the thought of two young girls, alone in this awful place and about to be sold to the highest bidder. She touched Nanine's arm. "Perhaps we'd better just leave," she whispered.
"No!" the other woman insisted. "Not until I've heard what she has to say. Besides, although I'd hoped for an infant, a young girl might fit in better."
Desirée forced herself to remain silent. She kept her eyes on Agnes. The woman reached into a pocket in her skirt and drew out a silver flask. She drank deeply from it, then noticing that Desirée was eyeing her, she said, "My medicine. Got the croup real bad."
Nanine nodded, but said nothing.
"Want a kid, eh?" Agnes said. "From the looks of you, I'd say you got the wherewithall to look after one. They're expensive, you know." She laughed and belched. "Raised six girls of my own without no man to support us. Wasn't easy. Reckon if I hadn't thought of going into this business we'd of all starved by now. Been thinkin' of retiring. All my girls got good jobs. Hell, there ain't no better in the district than Agnes's jewels—Opal, Ruby, Diamond, Pearl, Topaz..."
Agnes paused to take another swig from her flask. Desirée's heart was pounding. The sixth daughter, what was her name? Finally, she could stand the suspense no longer.
"And _Garnet_? Is that your other daughter's name?" Desirée leaned forward, anxious to hear the answer.
Agnes chuckled and shook her head. "Not that wild gal! Wouldn't claim her iffen she was mine. No, my other girl's named Emerald. Works over to the Arlington with her sister Ruby. You know the place, right down from Mahogany Hall. Helluva fine sporting establishment Josie Arlington runs. Best in the district!"
Just then, Cinder returned, hauling two little girls of five or six along with her. The children were thin and pale with lank blond hair and huge blue eyes—obviously sisters. They seemed terrified by the mere sight of Agnes.
She crooked a plump, bejeweled finger at them and smiled falsely. "Come here, dearies. Come to your Auntie Agnes."
Cinder gave the pair a shove to make them move.
Agnes ran her hand over the bony shoulders of the taller girl. "This here's Lettie. The little one's Sulene. They got no family, no kin at all that I know of."
Desirée watched the girls closely, noticing that Lettie bit her lip as if to keep herself from speaking. The child rolled her eyes to indicate that Agnes was not telling the truth.
"Well, what do you think, ladies?" Agnes demanded. "Either of these two do you? Girls this size are better than babies. No diapers and besides, they can help with the housework."
"I would have to interview them privately first," Desirée said quickly.
Agnes shot her a suspicious look. "Thought the other lady was the one lookin' to adopt."
"There are two children. We might both be interested." Desirée added quickly, "But I would have to speak with them before I could decide."
Nanine was staring silently at Desirée, trying to figure out what she had in mind.
Agnes had tensed noticeably. This was obviously not what she had planned. Fishing into her huge pocket, she pulled out a long sheet of paper and all but threw it into Desirée's face.
"Maybe you better look at the list instead," she ordered. "These here two ain't much to look at, and ornery besides. Won't eat. Won't talk. Just stand around gawking all the time. That there list of mine's got a dozen or more on it—all ages, sizes, and some little boys, too. Or, if you want a infant, my own Ruby's about to drop a sucker in a month or so. She done told me to find a home for it so's she can get back to work."
Desirée did not so much as glance at the list. The woman's words struck her heart with horror. The thought of this despicable old woman, offering to sell her own grandchild!
Desirée's voice was steely when she said, "It's Lettie and Sulene we're interested in. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to them."
Agnes rose slowly, heaving her bulk from the settee with some effort. "I reckon you two just better leave now. I don't know what you're up to, but I ain't playing your game." Agnes and Desirée did silent battle with their eyes for a moment, then the old procuress bellowed, "Cinder! Come get these younguns! Take 'em on back upstairs."
Nanine, near tears, caught Desirée's arm. " _Please!_ " she whispered.
Desirée shook her head and led the other woman toward the front door. When they went out, Agnes slammed the door shut, and they heard the lock click.
Nanine turned on Desirée in blind fury. "Why did you do that? You've ruined _everything_!"
Desirée was hurrying down the street, hauling Nanine along with her. "I'm going to the authorities," she said. "It's perfectly obvious to me that those poor little girls were kidnapped. I mean to see that they are reunited with their parents. You can't possibly do business with that horrid woman, Nanine. She's the most loathsome sort of criminal."
A short while later, Desirée found herself once more in the presence of Officer O'Reilly. Her hackles rose even before he asked, "And what might you be doing here, Garnet? Come to turn your own self in for a change?"
Desirée drew herself up and glared at the man. "You are as mistaken today as you were the last time we met. My name is Miss Desirée La Fleur, and this is my cousin Mrs. Duplantier. We are here to report a crime."
O'Reilly rolled his eyes and reached lazily for a pad and pen. Dr. St. Vincent had told him that he'd made a dreadful mistake the other day. He'd warned the officer to be more careful in the future. So, O'Reilly figured he'd better humor the woman, if he didn't want to be slapped with a tardy charge of false arrest.
"Now, what seems to be the problem, Miss La Fleur?"
" _Kidnapping!_ Also, procuring for the purpose of selling young girls into white slavery. I want that woman arrested! _Immediately!_ " Desirée rapped the man's desk sharply to emphasize the point.
"Hold on here!" O'Reilly said. "We can't just go barging in, arresting people with no proof, miss."
"And what was your proof when you arrested me, may I ask?"
Nanine, who had been hiding behind Desirée, gasped, but no one seemed to notice.
O'Reilly blanched and gripped his pen more tightly. "I'm truly sorry about that, Miss La Fleur. But you see my position here. Without more details, I can't just run off half cocked and haul some innocent citizen into jail."
" _Innocent citizen?_ " Desirée raged. "Why, we've just come from the house of a woman named Agnes on Burgundy Street. At this very moment, she is holding two poor little girls prisoner there. Their parents must be frantic with worry. Haven't you any reports on missing children?"
O'Reilly made a great show of shuffling through a stack of papers on his desk. He must soothe Miss La Fleur's ruffled feathers at all costs, but arresting Agnes was further than he was prepared to go. Granted, she and a few others kept their hands in, procuring merchandise for Storyville's fine establishments. But she paid the department well to be left alone. And the children she handled were mostly orphans and runaways. If they didn't go through her, they'd wind up in the district on their own, he reasoned.
"If you'll excuse me, Miss La Fleur, I'll just step into the next office and see if any late reports have come in. I won't be a moment. You and Mrs. Duplantier have a seat."
The moment he was gone, Nanine turned to Desirée. "You were _arrested_? When? Whatever for?"
She patted Nanine's hand soothingly. "It was merely a case of mistaken identity. No harm was done except to my dignity. That's part of what happened the day I arrived. I'll tell you all about it once we're out of here."
While the two women waited, Officer O'Reilly was in the next room making two telephone calls. First, he rang up Roman St. Vincent, who said he would come immediately. Then he had the hello-boy ring Agnes's number.
His conversation was brief. When Agnes herself answered, he said, "O'Reilly here. You better clean house. Company's coming."
Before Officer O'Reilly returned to his office, Roman had arrived. He'd wasted no time when the man told him Desirée was there stirring up trouble. He hadn't bothered to ask what kind of trouble. Nothing would surprise him. The big shock came when he walked into the room and spied Nanine there, too. Placide would be furious that Desirée had involved his wife in whatever she was up to. How could she have done such a thing?
"Ladies," Roman said in a chilly tone.
"Roman!" Desirée gasped. "What are _you_ doing here?"
"I might ask you the same question. But don't take time to explain now. My carriage is waiting outside. Jules will drive the two of you home."
Nanine rose, offering him a thin smile of gratitude. She'd had quite enough of this sordid business and was more than ready to leave. But Desirée held her place.
"No! I'm not going anywhere! Not until Officer O'Reilly does his duty."
"Which is?" Roman asked.
"Which is to arrest that woman named Agnes and return those poor children to their family."
The hostility in the room was growing thick as Roman and Desirée stood toe to toe, trying to stare each other down. Nanine could take no more.
"If you don't mind, Desirée, I'm going home. I've a dreadful headache."
Desirée did not look away from Roman, but answered absently, "Yes, yes! You go along, Nanine. I'm sure Roman will let you take his carriage."
Nanine slipped out, and a moment later O'Reilly came back in. Roman and Desirée were still eyeing each other in belligerent silence.
"Well, Doc, what are you doing here?" O'Reilly asked, all innocence.
"Never mind! Let's be done with this business as quickly as possible. I'll go with you to Burgundy Street to make sure everything is in order."
"And I'll go, too!" Desirée put in.
"I will not have you in that part of town!" Roman's domineering tone of voice was the worst tactic he could have used with Desirée. The argument was brief, with Desirée winning in the end. A few moments later, she, Roman, and O'Reilly were on their way to Agnes's. Desirée rode in triumphant silence, sure that her first battle against evil in New Orleans was won.
But all they found at the house on Burgundy Street was a sick old lady being tended by her servant. The girls were gone. Desirée insisted that the men search every room. She even accompanied Roman to the attic to have a look for herself. A half hour after their arrival, Desirée, with soot on her face and cobwebs in her hair, had to admit defeat.
"But, Roman, they were there! I saw them with my own eyes!" she insisted as he drove her home in a hired cab.
"You still haven't told me what you were doing in such a place. And, honestly, Desirée, to drag your poor cousin into this! What do you suppose Placide will say?"
Desirée stared down at her clasped hands, trying to decide what to tell Roman. Her instinct was to protect Nanine. But the truth seemed the wisest course at the moment.
She glanced up at Roman. His face was still set in hard, arrogant lines.
"You realize that I was forced to leave several of my patients waiting while you and O'Reilly hauled me off on this wild goose chase. I think you could at least give me some explanation."
"You're right, of course, Roman," Desirée answered quietly. "But I must have your word first that you won't tell anyone. Especially not Placide."
He looked down at Desirée. She seemed subdued suddenly. And could that actually be penitence he detected in her voice? No, that was too much to hope for. But he would hear her out without any more scolding, he decided.
"Go on, Desirée," he said as gently as he could manage. "I'm listening."
Suddenly, she found herself pouring out Nannie's whole tale to him. "I tried to talk her out of it, Roman, but she refused to listen. She wants a child so desperately. She was sure she could go to Agnes and, for the right price, become a mother instantly."
"Damn!" Roman cursed. "I knew she wanted a baby, but I had no idea she'd go to such drastic lengths. If adoption is what she wants, I can help her. But not this way! Talk to her, Desirée. Try to make her see reason. Tell her there's always hope. She may have her own child yet. Medicine is not an exact science. Besides, I've made mistakes before. All doctors do. She shouldn't give up all hope."
They had pulled up in the carriage drive at the Duplantiers' home. Desirée threw her arms around Roman's neck and hugged him soundly. "Oh, you don't know how much this will mean to her, darling! I can hardly wait to tell her."
Roman dropped the reins and slipped his hands around Desirée's waist, drawing her close for a kiss.
"Say that again, Desirée," he murmured.
She stared at him, puzzled. "I said this will mean so much to Nanine."
Roman smiled and shook his head. "Not that part of it. What you said at the end. You called me _darling_. Sounded nice."
Desirée blushed and pulled away from him, flustered that she had allowed the endearment to slip out in her excitement.
When he leaned close to steal another kiss, Desirée pushed him away firmly. "No, you mustn't, Roman! Placide and Nanine worry constantly about what the neighbors will say about this or that. They'd have heart failure if someone reported that we were seen kissing in the drive in the middle of the afternoon."
Roman chuckled softly. "I suppose you're right, Desirée. I'll let you go in now. I still have patients waiting. But until I return for dinner, I want you to promise me something."
He was holding her hand, slowly rubbing his thumb in circles against the soft center of her palm. At that moment, with liquid fire racing through her and her body aching to be held, she would have promised him anything.
"Yes, Roman?" Her words were soft and breathy.
"I want your promise that you will stay away from places like Agnes's in the future. You're not to go anywhere near Storyville without me along for protection."
She was taken aback by the change in his tone. No one dictated to Desirée La Fleur!
"Roman, I don't think a bodyguard is necessary."
"I must insist!" he answered curtly. "You are _not_ to go near the district! I hope I am understood."
Desirée had climbed down without his assistance, dumbstruck that he thought he could issue orders and have them obeyed without question. Well, he'd be waiting a long time for such a promise from her!
She gave her skirt a haughty swish and headed for the front door.
"I'll see you tonight, darling," Roman called after her.
Desirée did not turn to wave, but her cheeks flamed with a mixture of anger at his words and pleasure at his endearment.
###
# Chapter Six
The whole day had become a disaster as far as Desirée was concerned. The shopping had been a waste of time, and both trips to Anges's had been heart-wrenching trials. Desirée hadn't the faintest notion where Agnes had hidden Lettie and Sulene, but they had not been in that house when she returned with Officer O'Reilly. The whole effort had been a waste and had left no time for job hunting.
By evening, Desirée was weary, nervous, and in general out of sorts. Dinner proved a strained affair. Roman was the only guest. She was happy to see him and relieved that there were no strangers in their midst who would expect charming, casual chitchat through the long meal. However, being a party to Nanine's shadowy secret made her desperately uncomfortable around Placide. After having told Roman, she felt equally ill at ease now with Nanine. All of this tension made it impossible to enjoy the meal.
Just as she was forcing down another mouthful of veal _picante_ and willing the meal to be over, Placide's pleasant voice interrupted her thoughts. He spoke in French as did all Creoles in their homes. "I see your shopping expedition was a huge success, my dears. Cousin Desirée, you look lovelier than I've ever seen you. Don't you agree, Roman?"
She felt Roman's gaze on her, warming the dusty rose taffeta that cupped her breasts and snuggled close to her tightly cinched waist.
"In my humble opinion, Placide," Roman answered, "you are the most fortunate man in New Orleans. There are no two more elegant ladies in all the city. And you have them both!" He chuckled and favored Desirée with a hooded gaze of appreciation. Then he sighed deeply. "But not for long, I'm sure. Creole mothers are already planning and scheming behind their fans, each hoping her son will win the hand of our fair Desirée. Soon you'll be plagued, Placide, by all manner of young dandies seeking permission to call, begging _entré de la maison_."
Desirée turned to face Roman squarely, a slightly mocking gleam in her gold-starred eyes. "Then, sir, I'm afraid there will be many disappointed mothers in this city."
"Ah, Roman," Placide put in, "you're winning her over already. You heard her. She's no longer interested in other suitors. It won't be long, I'll wager, before the two of you are calling on the priest to make arrangements."
Roman shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Talk of marriage never failed to make him uneasy.
Desirée was the one who answered her cousin. "I hate to disappoint you, Placide, but no wedding is in my immediate plans. I have important work to do before I'm ready to marry."
Nanine spoke softly, sincerely. "Desirée dear, you'll learn soon enough that there is no more important role in life for a woman than being a wife... and a mother."
As she said the last words, her gaze dropped. Placide reached over and squeezed her hand sympathetically. He knew full well how Nanine's childless state pained her. But it was something they both would have to learn to live with.
"A great truth," he said softly, "spoken by the perfect Creole wife."
Desirée felt a dull ache in her heart as she saw the love shimmering in Placide's dark eyes. If any man ever looked at her that way, she was sure her defenses would crumble. But there was small chance of that. She possessed neither the great beauty nor the tender spirit of Nanine Duplantier. Some women had the temperament for marriage; others did not. It was as simple as that.
"What do you ladies have planned for tomorrow?" Roman's question was innocent enough. He intended escorting the pair to lunch if they were free. But his question brought a marked reaction from both Nanine, who looked stricken for an instant, and Desirée, who seemed in a great hurry to answer.
"We have plans," she blurted out.
"Plans?" Roman said when Desirée failed to elaborate.
"Shopping," Nanine answered, a blush rising to color her cheeks.
" _More_ shopping?" Placide groaned good-naturedly. "After all you bought today, the two of you will have to wait for Maison Blanche to restock before you invade the premises again."
"Nanine will be shopping alone tomorrow," Desirée added quickly. "I plan to go to Camp Street to apply for a position."
"Newspaper Row?" Placide said in a surprised tone. "After your disappointment the other night with the _Times-Picayune_ gentleman, I thought you'd given up on that scheme. I thought you'd decided to teach, Desirée."
"Only as a last resort. I've come to New Orleans on a sacred mission. I must write to expose the plight of the poor women of Storyville, to release the soiled doves from their shackles of degradation so that they can soar free in the clean, fresh air!"
Placide's dark brow arched toward his high hairline. Roman chuckled softly and said, "I know what Nanine forgot to buy today, Placide. Our lovely reformer needs a soapbox."
"Make fun all you like, Roman St. Vincent. But I'll need more than a soapbox. I'll need _your_ help!"
He smiled at her, the blue of his eyes deepening to a dark, stormy hue. "I am at your service, Mademoiselle. You have only to command."
Was he mocking her? She couldn't tell. But it didn't matter as long as he was willing to help. Forcing the effort, she offered him a winsome smile and lowered her lashes over her gold-starred eyes, quite plainly flirting with him. If that was what it took to achieve her goals, so be it! Women were given their charms to use them with men to get what they wanted. She hadn't forgotten everything she'd learned while she was growing up in the South.
A troubled look clouded Roman's eyes as he watched Desirée's expression soften, then become seductive. How odd! He had seen Garnet use this same tactic. Very well! he thought. If Desirée wanted to pay for his help, he wasn't above accepting a bribe or two. In fact, he could think of the perfect reward for his efforts.
"Would you like to go for a ride along the river, Desirée?" Roman asked.
Before she could answer, Placide said, "A fine idea, Cousin Desirée! I'm quite weary this evening and thought I'd turn in early." He glanced toward his wife, a gleam of naked desire and invitation hot in his eyes. "And I'm sure all that shopping must have exhausted Nanine. You two young folks go for your drive. We old marrieds will rest our tired bones."
Desirée and Roman both suppressed knowing smiles, pretending they had no notion that Placide and Nanine had any plans other than falling into a deep sleep for the duration of the night.
"Well, Desirée?" Roman prompted.
"Some fresh air would be nice. I'll fetch my shawl."
The yellow-wheeled buggy was small, forcing Desirée to sit so close to Roman that she could feel his heat, smell his rich maleness. His aura enfolded her, making her body hum with a more welcome kind of tension. She became keenly aware of the whisper of taffeta against the tender flesh of her breasts, the snug cling of her silk stockings to her thighs, the soft caress of her shawl about her bare shoulders. It seemed all her senses were suddenly heightened, as if being close to Roman St. Vincent awoke nerves that had long been asleep in her body. Her mind kept straying to his kiss in the garden that first night, to all the other stolen kisses in the past days. She let the tip of her tongue smooth over her lips. Heat rose within her, and a little shiver ran through her.
Casually, Roman draped his arm around her shoulders and drew her nearer. "The breeze off the river can be chilly, even this time of year."
What a fine excuse! she thought. For both of us! And she snuggled close, luxuriating in his warmth, his touch.
For a long time, they rode in silence, watching the full moon rise—a pale disk of gold out over the river. Its reflection formed a shimmering bridge of light across the calm water, lending a certain magic to the soft spring night.
"It's so lovely," she sighed. "I'd forgotten what it's like down here in the South. Everything seems exaggerated—the heat of the day, the coolness of evening, the perfume of flowers..."
"The desire, the passion," Roman finished for her.
Desirée sat up straighter, letting his arm drop from her shoulders. "I wouldn't know about that!"
Roman laughed softly. "Oh, come now, Desirée! Don't tell me such feelings are foreign to you. Nanine told me about your engagement. Surely you must have felt _something_ for the man."
He was prodding her, trying to persuade her to talk about her past life and past loves. Well, he would be disappointed! She had no intention of discussing her private life. Besides, there were no love affairs worth mentioning.
"Tell me about your Mr. Williamson. You must have loved him. You must have felt deeply attached to the man to agree to marry him."
"I'm sure I didn't feel nearly as much for him as you felt for your wife!" she snapped at him, regretting her words immediately. She glanced up at his strong profile. His features—smiling and tender a moment before—had turned hard. She started to apologize, but before she could speak, he did.
"You're quite right, Desirée, and wise for your years. I did feel a great many things for my wife. Desire, passion, _lust!_ " He spat the final word out as if the very taste of it was rancid on his tongue. "Unfortunately for both of us, I did not feel love. Nor did she feel any such tender sentiments toward me. Still, she gave into my needs. _Once_."
Desirée panicked. She had forgotten for the moment what a straightforward man she was dealing with in Roman St. Vincent. "Please, I don't want to hear this," she begged.
Roman stopped the buggy in a stand of sycamore trees near the river. "Well, you're going to!" He turned to face her, cupping her chin in his palm so that she could not move away. "I saw the look you gave me at dinner. It's time you learned a thing or two about men—this man in particular. I agreed to your courtship pact, but I'm not a gentle pet who can be pacified with a quiet word and a pat on the head. I've watched you carefully this whole week as you fluttered those dark lashes and offered any and all that come-hither smile of yours. You're headed for trouble, Mademoiselle. And it could easily begin this very night, if you don't stop your teasing!"
"I never!" Desirée cried.
"You needn't deny it! That's why I'm warning you now that I am not a man to be tampered with. I can be quite dangerous under certain circumstances." He sighed heavily before he continued. "My poor wife, God rest her soul, found that out. On our wedding night I got very drunk. I was angry with my parents, myself, the whole world, but most especially with Courtney. She knew I didn't love her. She could have refused to marry me, but she didn't. It was her decision that we should wed. To my way of thinking, by making that decision, she had placed herself on the sacrificial block. She was my wife, wed to me for my pleasure and amusement. Her nod of agreement had forced our marriage. She _owed_ me, I surmised. And, I reasoned in my brandy-fogged state, she also _expected_ it of me... that she would be disappointed if I failed to demand my husbandly rights on our wedding night. Can you imagine such pomposity!"
"Please, Roman, no more!" Desirée was struggling to turn away from the blazing light in his eyes, but he held her fast.
"Ah, but there is more, Desirée. There's so much more to love than what passed between me and my wife that night. I was not brutal with her, but neither was I tender. She deserved tenderness. My God," he groaned in sudden anguish, "if any woman alive ever deserved tenderness, Courtney did! She accepted me that night. She cried pitifully as she lay beneath me, yet she never struggled, never said a single word to refuse me. After all, she was my wife. She must do my bidding! And—poor Courtney—she had been taught from birth to accept her lot. Only with the morning's light did I realize what I had done to her, what I had done to our marriage. Courtney had the most beautiful, sparkling green eyes. I loved the fiery glitter of them. It was as if her soul lived there. The morning after our wedding night, those twin flames had died, and I never saw that glint of warmth again. I could never love her after that, nor could she love me after what I did to her. Sometimes I wonder if I am capable of love at all. Some people aren't, you know."
Desirée had forgotten her embarrassment completely. She ached for Roman. He was a man beset by devils of his own making. How could such a good, kind man—the Saint of Storyville—be so at odds with his own soul? It wasn't right! It wasn't fair!
"Roman, please don't say such things. Of course you can love. I don't believe for a moment that some people are denied that joy."
He looked at her solemnly. "And you?"
"I? Of course I'm capable of love! I love Nanine. I love Placide."
"But have you ever loved a man? Did you love your Mr. Williamson?"
Desirée felt his words closing in on her, cutting off her breath. "No," she admitted finally. "That's why I broke our engagement. I realized that I could never live with a man I didn't love with my whole heart, my very soul."
Roman had released her from his grip. Now his hand stole to the bare flesh of her arm and stroked upward, traversing the creamy flesh of her throat, her cheek. "And could you love me, Desirée?"
Could she love him? Whatever made him ask such a question? It wasn't fair! They had a deal, and love was not part of it. She was unable to admit her feelings. How could she give him any sort of answer?
"Well?" he demanded.
Still, she remained silent, drowning in the deep, hot pools of his eyes. She dared not answer such a question? If she said yes, he would take it as a declaration. Already, his strong surgeon's hands were massaging her throat, her shoulders, moving slowly downward toward more sensitive flesh. An affirmative reply would surely speed their descent, and she knew from previous experience with him that his slightest touch turned her will of iron to drifting smoke.
Yet, if she denied him would he release his hold on her for all time? _If_ she was capable of loving, Roman St. Vincent was most certainly a man deserving of her deepest emotions. She wanted a chance to know him better, to find out what might grow between them. She couldn't be rushed!
"Your question is unfair," she answered cautiously. But her husky tone conveyed far more than her words. "How can I know if I might love you when we've only just met?"
"Sometimes, Desirée, a single moment serves as well as a lifetime." He was bending toward her lips, with no intentions of allowing her to deny him.
When his mouth came down to cover hers, she knew from her own response that he had his answer. Soon, as he sought out and caressed the soft inner flesh of her mouth, she forgot that there had ever been a question. If love meant that she never wanted him to stop, then this was love.
How long their kiss lasted, Desirée had no way of knowing. Long enough to torch her whole body with desire. Long enough to make her forget that there had ever been a time without Roman St. Vincent. Long enough for her to imprint the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands, the need he aroused forever in her brain and in her heart. Certainly long enough to cancel all pacts.
At last he drew away, but his eyes still held her. He was unsmiling. She was shaken, trembling in his arms.
"Shall we go to my house?" he asked in a voice husky with desire, yet touched with awe.
"Your house?" In her present state, the meaning of his words refused to penetrate.
"We're both adults, Desirée," he said gently. "We don't need to play games. We both agree that marriage is out of the question. But there's no reason that you and I should deny ourselves all pleasures."
Before she could form an answer, he lowered his face toward her bosom and his lips brushed over the swell of flesh straining from her low-cut bodice. She caught her breath and a soft moan escaped her lips. With his mouth still hovering over her trembling breast, he murmured, "It's time we got to know each other better, darling. We've wonders and delights to explore. I want to love you slowly, sweetly... _totally_. I have a feeling it can be better for both of us than we've ever known before." Roman knew now what he wanted. He and Desirée had both vowed never to marry. But what happy lovers they could be!
His hand, as he whispered against her taut flesh, had worked the taffeta lower and lower, exposing one nipple to his tongue. At first the cool dampness Desirée felt did not register in her brain. Her whole body was burning with new sensations already. But when he drew the ripe bud between his teeth, then sucked it into his mouth, Desirée's head snapped back and she moaned aloud.
Her body went rigid. She knew she should beat him away with her fists, but she couldn't move. She could only feel. And what she felt was glorious, wonderous, a pleasure beyond anything she had ever experienced. His teeth held her gently while the rough velvet of his tongue battered and stroked, flailed and smoothed. He seemed to be drawing her whole being into his. When he released her, it felt as if some giant hand had turned out every light in the world.
Roman sat away from her, his head tilted back, drawing in deep draughts of air. "Oh, God!" he gasped. "Oh, Desirée! How I want you!"
To show her his need, he caught her hand in his and brought it to his crotch. Only then, when she jerked away with a shocked cry, did he realize the mistake he had made.
He turned toward her, frowning. She might have been engaged for a time, but where men were concerned, he realized, she must be a total innocent.
"You're a virgin, aren't you!" he said bluntly.
Desirée stared in stunned silence for several moments. What he was proposing—that they go to his house and make love—was exactly what she wanted. Now with one incautious move of her hand she had spoiled it all.
"Well, aren't you?" he insisted.
"Of the body, yes, Roman!" She managed an answer at length, glad that the darkness hid the burning crimson of her cheeks. She felt shamed, not by her longing, but by her childish reaction a moment earlier.
He sighed and leaned his head back on the seat, staring up at the night sky. "Then I owe you a sincere apology, Mademoiselle. I've made a fool of myself once more."
Roman's mind was reeling. How stupid! Of course she was a virgin! A woman by her looks, perhaps, but still a girl in every way that counted. Once again Garnet Gold came to mind. Was it possible that he was confusing the two even now? He knew that he had only to beckon and Garnet would be his. But though they looked alike, Desirée was a far different sort of woman. She might be well educated and think herself worldly and wise, but she was at heart still a sheltered Creole child. What a fool he'd been to treat her so crudely!
Desirée's mind, too, was whirling. She understood now what Roman wanted from her, why he had suggested going to his house. But more important, she understood what she wanted from him. Mr. Williamson, with his chaste kisses and bland words, had offered her no understanding of the desire a man could stir within a woman or the pleasure he could offer. Now that she had some inkling of the wonder of it all, she wanted more. She _needed_ more. She needed Roman. _Now!_
The words seemed to take forever as she worked up the courage to speak. At last they came out in a ragged rush of breath. "Roman, take me... to your house!"
He leaned down and kissed her, only brushing his lips like a feather along her delicate cheekbone. As if he had not heard her desperate plea, he said, "I'd better be getting you back to Placide's now. It's late."
The household was sleeping when they arrived. Roman lingered only a moment, to see her in. He looked tired, drawn, years older than he had at the start of the evening. Desirée felt as if she had aged as well.
"May I stop by tomorrow afternoon?" he asked with cool politeness.
"I'd enjoy that, Roman." The stiff words sounded to Desirée's ears as if they came from another. She'd ruined everything, but she refused to give up. When he turned to leave, she added quickly, hoping to delay his departure, "I still want to talk to you about our plans."
He looked at her in an odd way, then the frown eased from his face and he smiled slightly. "Ah, yes! Your plans for reform. I thought for a moment you meant something more intimate."
He left then. His light parting kiss still burning on her lips, Desirée rushed upstairs and watched from her window as he drove away. Her heart, her head, her whole body ached.
She undressed and took out her journal, determined to sort out her thoughts by writing them down. But her best attempts failed. She managed only one bold line of script:
> Roman St. Vincent. I love him! I will have him!
###
# Chapter Seven
In the coming days, Desirée found the situation strained between herself and Roman. They were only _pretending_ to be courting, but he acted as if he owned her. He had even forbidden her to go to the _Mascot_ to seek employment or to set foot within Storyville. The nerve of the man!
After the night at the river, when he'd invited her to his house, things seemed to have changed between them. They were together often, yet he kept her at a chaste distance. It was almost as if he had thrown up a barricade between them. Day by day it grew, and by keeping her at arm's length, Roman St. Vincent managed only to make Desirée long for him more and more. She began to wonder if he was a far more clever man than she had ever imagined. She was sure that if he continued to act only casually interested in her, she would soon become the aggressor in this battle of passions.
But in love with him or not, she refused to be dictated to! She had her own plans for the future, plans that only included Roman if he wanted them to. Desirée decided it was high time she set out in pursuit of her original goal. She had to have something to occupy her mind or she was sure she would end up acting like a starry-eyed little fool the next time she saw Roman.
She had taken great pains writing her article about her visit to Agnes's "employment and adoption agency." She would present the piece to the _Mascot_ 's editor as proof of her journalistic abilities. Surely, he would give her the job.
So, on a hot morning in early July, she presented herself at the _Mascot_ office and informed the clerk, "I'm here to see Bas Bleu."
The cocky young man looked her up and down with a dark, appraising eye and grinned. "What's he written now that's turned your bright feathers such a dreary gray?"
Desirée drew herself up. The man's remark was directed at the somber tone of her linen suit. She'd chosen it with great care, thinking that it looked appropriately businesslike for applying for a position. What, after all, did this young pup expect a reporter to wear? Satins and laces?
"Is Mr. Bleu in, please?"
"In _and_ out," he replied.
When Desirée gave him a puzzled frown, he explained, "Bas Bleu's a pen name. The fellows swap off writing the society news. You might say it's a choice assignment." He winked and grinned. "If you get my drift, Garnet."
Desirée bristled when he addressed her by the other woman's name. But after a moment's thought, she smiled. Why not take advantage of the mistaken identity this time? She gave the young man a broad grin and returned his wink. "I'll speak to no one but the boss. Tell him Garnet has news. _Big news!_ "
He escorted her immediately through the outer office that clattered with the music of a dozen typing machines and reeked of cigar smoke and printer's ink. A moment later, she found herself in a small private chamber that contained a rolltop desk, a file cabinet, two chairs, a brass spittoon, and a lazy-eyed man with a shock of steel-gray hair.
"Miss Garnet Gold here to see you, Mr. Bigelow," the beaming clerk announced. "Says she has a big story for Bas Bleu."
Desirée watched the older man's face closely. He was a rough, craggy sort, with little emotion seeping through to the surface. His face looked as rumpled as his rusty-black suit. But some of the deep-carved lines about his mouth seemed to soften as he rose and indicated the other chair with a wave of his wide, square palm.
"Won't you have a seat, miss?"
When the clerk had left, closing the door behind him, Mr. Bigelow leaned back in his chair, staring right into Desirée's eyes. "Now what's all this about? You're not Garnet. So you must be the imposter."
Desirée nodded. "You are quite correct, sir. Although I prefer to think of it in a different light: I am Desirée La Fleur and your Miss Gold is the imposter. But tell me, how did you guess that I was not Garnet?"
He shrugged. "Dunno exactly. Reporter's instincts, I suppose. Then, too, I've known Garnet since she was knee-high. There's a difference between you two. Subtle, but it's there. Now, what can I do for you, Miss La Fleur?"
Quickly, Desirée explained that she had read the item in Bas Bleu's society news and the invitation for her to stop in for an interview. "Under ordinary circumstances, I would have ignored such a plea," she continued. "But I have ulterior motives in coming here. You see, I'm curious, too. Not only curious about Garnet Gold, but about all the women of the district. I'd like very much to get to know them, to write about them."
"Got any experience?"
She could tell by the tone of his voice that he guessed her answer would be no. So rather than giving him a verbal reply, she whipped out her piece on Agnes and the procuress's list and handed it to Bigelow.
The man took the papers from her and settled back with an unnerving sigh of boredom. Obviously, he had her figured for an untalented novice who would require gentle but firm handling when he rejected her. But as he read, his face became more intent. He leaned forward in his chair, his bushy brows drawn together. When he finished, he stood up, towering over Desirée and scowling down at her.
"You wrote this, young lady?" he demanded.
"I did!"
"You went out and got the story yourself?"
"Yes."
He was holding her article, rolled up in his left hand. Suddenly, he gave it a good smack with his right. "That's damn fine reporting for a woman!"
Desirée winced. He saw her reaction to his words.
"Damn fine reporting for _anyone_! To be honest, I wish I'd written it."
Desirée lowered her face, not wanting the tough old editor to see her blush of pleasure. She knew he had just paid her writing the highest possible compliment.
Mr. Bigelow was trying to keep a calm countenance, but Desirée could plainly see the spark of enthusiasm in his eyes. "Are you saying you want to cover Storyville for this paper, Miss La Fleur?"
She gave him a crisp nod. "I am."
"And just what makes you think they'd talk to you? Those girls are a tough lot. They have to be to lead the lives they do. Personally, I can't see some gently bred Yankee schoolmarm getting through to them."
Desirée leaned toward Mr. Bigelow, who shied unconsciously from the fire in her eyes. "Sir, I have worked hard all my life to get where I am. No one who knows me would describe me as either 'gently bred' or a 'schoolmarm'! I'm more often known as a fighter. And I usually get what I set out for. As for my being a Yankee, I may have lost my southern accent while attending school in Massachusetts, but I was born and reared in Louisiana. My father was a sugar planter and my mother came from an old Creole family here in New Orleans. The Duplantiers."
He nodded his head, looking more interested now. "Fine folks, the Duplantiers. But be that as it may, young lady, I don't see how you plan to get any inside stories out of the district."
"I have connections," she answered.
"Which are?" he demanded.
"First, Garnet Gold herself. I've been curious to meet her. Surely she must share some of that curiosity. It isn't every day that one comes across her own double. Also, Dr. Roman St. Vincent is a close friend of mine. He has agreed to help me gain access to the inner circle."
Bigelow sat down again and leaned back in his chair, releasing a deep sigh. The worried frown left his face. "Well, that's a relief, Miss La Fleur. I was afraid you had a more drastic scheme in mind."
"Really?" She was all attention. "And what was that?"
He gave a nervous laugh. "I thought for a moment you were about to tell me that you meant to go to Storyville seeking employment. I imagine Josie Arlington or Countess Willie Piazza or any of the other madams would hire you in a flash, advertising you as the famous Garnet Gold's double. That would really put you on the inside. But I'm happy to hear you don't intend to go that far for a story!"
Desirée only smiled. How clever of the man! Why hadn't she thought of that herself? She stood up, realizing that his time was valuable, and she had taken quite enough of it. "Well, Mr. Bigelow, do I have the job?"
He nodded. "We'll see. You do your story as well as you did this one on old Agnes and bring it here. If it's what our readers like, I'll pay top dollar, Miss La Fleur. I've never hired a woman reporter before, but I like your spunk, young lady!"
Desirée offered him her hand. For a moment, Bigelow only stared. He'd never shaken hands with a woman in his life. Wasn't done! he thought with mild shock. But when he clasped the dainty, gloved fingers in his own bearlike grasp, he found Desirée La Fleur's handshake firm, strong, and sure... _for a woman_.
Half an hour later, Desirée sat in a ladies' tearoom, devouring back issues of the _Mascot_ that the clerk had given her before she left the newspaper, office. She ignored the other customers, who stared, openly aghast to see a woman reading such scandalous material in public. Before long, the whispering ceased, and the room emptied except for Desirée.
The newspaper, she noted, had a flamboyant style and a no-holds-barred philosophy. If it happened in Storyville—and most everything did—then it was fair game to Mr. Bigelow's tabloid. She grimaced slightly as she read. Though this type of yellow journalism was not to her liking, she could learn to write this way. She vowed to practice until she had the garish style down to perfection.
One feature that immediately caught her eye concerned interviews with a number of women in the district. The piece told how they had come to this sordid life. Desirée read their statements with avid curiosity, a plan forming quickly in her mind.
According to the article, a retired madam named Nellie Gaspar claimed that she had come to New Orleans from England as a performer in Smith's European Circus. She further stated that she had been seduced by a smooth-talking New Orleans man, who promised her marriage but instead placed her in a brothel on Dauphine Street, where she turned nightly tricks while he took his healthy cut from her hard-earned wages.
Violet was the daughter of a prostitute—a "trick baity"—born and raised in one of New Orleans's infamous pleasure palaces. At an early age, she followed in her mother's footsteps.
Another woman, Mary, stated that she came from a wealthy family in a neighboring parish. At a tender age she was sold by her boarding school mistress to a procuress, who then bartered her into white slavery. By the time her parents found out what had happened, Mary was a ruined woman. "I brought a top price, though," Mary was quoted as saying. "White virgins from good families always do!"
Desirée shifted uncomfortably in her chair, wondering briefly what had become of the two poor waifs at Agnes's. She read on.
Lola, born in the Dominican Republic, came to the port city with her husband, who abandoned her soon after their arrival. Unable to speak English, Lola went into the only business she knew—pleasing men.
This was all very interesting, but no help at all. None of the images fit her purposes. However, Desirée's pulses raced when she read Justine's sad tale. It was exactly what she'd been looking for.
Justine—born and raised in Troy, New York—was the daughter of a well-respected minister. At the age of seventeen, she became involved in a "public scandal of a sexual character." Justine stated that the entire affair was silly and that she had not been " _ruined_ , as they say." However, her strict father had ordered his wife to give the girl one thousand dollars and show her the door, which she was never to darken again. Seeking a warm climate, Justine came to New Orleans. While staying at the St. Charles Hotel, she was visited by one of Storyville's madams who had heard of her plight. The woman convinced the girl that her only sensible course was to "follow the Scarlet Thread."
"That's it!" Desirée cried softly. "The perfect story!"
Folding the papers neatly and tucking them under her arm, she headed for the door. The tearoom on Dryades Street was only two blocks down and across Canal from Basin Street.
It was a sizzling afternoon. Desirée considered hiring a hack, then decided it would be better if she presented herself afoot. If she showed up hot, perspiring, and near exhaustion from her walk, she would at the very least be asked in for a few moments to cool off before she was sent on her way. Once she had her foot in the door, she would think of what to do and say next. Besides, she wanted her possible future employer to believe she was almost penniless, without even a picayune to pay for a ride in the heat of the day.
All the way to Basin Street, Desirée pondered what she would do when she got there. Her first thought had been to go directly to Mahogany Hall. How surprised Roman would be when she got her interview in spite of his warnings! But then she remembered something. Lulu White's establishment was a "house of color." Strict laws in New Orleans forbade the mixing of races in the Storyville brothels. She would have to choose another house nearby.
Her heartbeat raced as she turned onto Basin Street. Desirée could almost hear Roman's voice forbidding her to come here. She nearly turned back, suddenly feeling out of her element. Then another voice boomed in her memory. She saw Mrs. Stanton once again, her eyes fiery with righteous indignation and her arms waving for emphasis. "The time is _now_ to bring the devil to his knees. And the place is _anywhere you find him_!"
Surely, if ever the devil lurked anywhere here on earth, he could be found on Basin Street! Desirée squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and forged ahead, renewed determination blazing in her breast.
Yes, this place was certainly Satan's turf. Down the block she could see drunken men spilling out of a bar onto the banquette. A fight had broken out. A dozen men were involved, along with two or three painted ladies. One of the men, she noted, was missing an arm. A heavy, black chain with a spiked ball at the end hung from his vacant sleeve. He used the odd appendage as a weapon, swinging it skillfully to keep the other brawlers at a distance. Desirée stored up all the details in order to write about it later for the _Mascot_.
Suddenly, Desirée found herself at the foot of the stairs which led to the entrance of Mahogany Hall. She paused for a moment, staring up at the shuttered windows. She wondered if Garnet Gold could be peering down at her from behind one of the blinds. She wished she dared to mount the stairs, knock on the door, and demand to see the woman. But that might ruin her more important plans.
Then she spotted her destination, just two doors down. She knew from a map she'd found in one of the papers that number 225 was Josie Arlington's fabulous rococo mansion, the Arlington. This, according to what she'd read in the _Mascot_ , was the showplace of the tenderloin, with its free-style Edwardian decor and charming array of "amiable, foreign girls." Perhaps, Desirée thought, she should invent some exotic background for herself like one of the Arlington's women who claimed that she was "a bone-fide baroness from the court at St. Petersburg." But she quickly discarded the notion; she'd have enough fabricated facts to keep straight as it was.
The Arlington loomed before her, an imposing, white four-story mansion with bay windows on three sides and a graceful cupola on the roof. She mounted the stairs to the main entrance on the second level. Her heart fluttered, and she felt slightly faint, but she never stopped. Before allowing herself time to think and possibly become paralyzed with fear, she pounded the knocker. It seemed she stood there in the blazing sun for ages—thinking of all the reasons she _shouldn't_ be there—before the massive door swung open.
"Yeah? What can I do for you?" The large woman standing before Desirée appeared to be in her midthirties. Although not unattractive, her blatantly blond hair and exaggerated face paint made her look hard and cold.
"Miss Arlington?" Desirée asked, a bit breathless.
The woman nodded. "I'm Josie. Who wants to know?"
Desirée was taken aback by the woman's question. She had assumed that once again she would be mistaken for Garnet Gold. In fact, she had counted on it. But maybe Josie Arlington was nearsighted.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am. My name is Desirée, and I need to talk to you." Josie Arlington's closed expression never wavered. " _Desperately!_ " Desirée added.
After a moment's consideration, the imposing madam motioned for her to enter.
Once Desirée's eyes adjusted from bright sunlight to the dim glow inside, she saw that the interior of the Arlington was a riot of garish colors and textures—gilt furniture upholstered in scarlet plush, Oriental carpets, lace curtains, mirrors everywhere, cut-glass chandeliers, and bric-a-brac covering every available space.
"Come on into the Japanese parlor," Josie invited, "and take a load off."
Huge, painted silk fans decorated the walls of the room, and potted palms made the place a veritable jungle. Desirée took a seat in a black-lacquered bamboo rocker near the fireplace. Her eyes strayed to the Oriental splendor around her.
Josie Arlington was a woman of business. She got right to the point. "So, what's your story, Desirée?"
Desirée jumped, surprised to be caught off guard by the woman's directness. "Ah, I have a problem," she stammered.
Josie laughed. "Well, ain't _that_ a common affliction! We all got problems, honey. You tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine."
Desirée took a deep breath, steeling herself to make her story sound believable.
"You see, Miss Arlington, I'm not from New Orleans. Please don't mistake me, I like your city, but I want to get back home. Back to Massachusetts." Desirée paused for a moment to gaze balefully down at her lap, as if embarrassed at having to confide her troubles to a stranger.
"But you ain't got no money, am I right?"
Desirée nodded and sighed disconsolately. "None at all, I'm afraid."
"And you got no folks to wire you cash to get home?"
Desirée dared not meet Josie's probing gaze as she answered, "My father sent me away. He told me never again to darken his door." She shook her head sadly. "I have no family any longer... no place to turn. My money has run out completely, and although I have a fine education, I can find no position here."
Educated, eh? Josie Arlington sounded more than just interested. I could bill her as the "Schoolmarm" in the Blue Book, she thought. "She'll make you keep doing it till you do it right!" She smiled and leaned forward to give Desirée's hand a pat. "You got any experience in this line of work, honey?"
Desirée shook her head. "None," she whispered. "None at all!"
Josie sat up straight suddenly, a look of mortification on her face. "You ain't telling me you're a _virgin_? If you are, I can't help you. I got a reputation to uphold. There ain't never been a girl lost her virginity at the Arlington. I even got a fancy tomb designed for when they carry me out to Metairie Cemetery for the big sleep. It's a little house with a pretty young virgin knocking at the bronze door and being turned away." She sighed wistfully and grinned at Desirée. "Ain't that nice? Years from now folks'll still remember that I may have been a whore, but, by damn, I had ethics!"
Desirée blushed and shook her head. She carefully avoided Josie's eyes. What she answered was neither quite the truth nor a pure lie. "There was a man in Massachusetts. He's the real reason I left and came to New Orleans."
Josie slapped the bright emerald fabric covering her knee. "Goddamn! If they don't do it to a girl every chance they get! And I'll bet he promised to marry you, too. Well, never you mind, dearie! You come to the right place. Yes ma'am, you surely did!"
"Oh, thank you, Miss Josie." Desirée dabbed at imaginary tears with her hankie.
"Don't cry, honey. It'll all work out," Josie said. "Here, give me a smile now. Let me see that pretty face all glowing."
Josie placed surprisingly small hands on Desirée's cheeks and drew her closer, squinting and frowning. "Ain't I seen you somewhere before?"
"I'm sure not!" Desirée answered too quickly. Then, hoping to soften her reply, she added, "I only arrived a few days ago."
"Well, I could swear I know that face... those eyes..."
"It seems I favor a woman named Garnet Gold," Desirée confessed. "I've been mistaken for her more than once."
"Well, I'll be hitched to a sway-back mule, if it ain't so! Desirée honey, me and you are going to turn this into a deal that's solid gold! The Arlington's a high-class establishment, a five-dollar house. I don't allow no riff-raff in my parlor nor upstairs neither. When the word spreads that we got us the _refined_ version of Miss Garnet, every proper gentleman from all over the state'll be coming to pay you a call."
Desirée felt butterflies invade her stomach. As she smiled and nodded, none of her uncertainties showed on the surface. But now that she'd gotten into this, how would she get out? she wondered.
Roman St. Vincent was dog tired as he trudged along Basin Street. He'd been up all night with Garnet's mother. Although he'd promised Garnet he'd make the woman well, he wasn't at all sure that was possible this time. Still, it seemed the crisis had passed during the night. Her fever was lower this morning. At any rate, her fate would have to rest in higher and more skilled hands than his. He'd done all he could do. Now if only he could go home and fall into bed. But one last duty called. Ruby was due any day at the Arlington. He needed to look in on her.
As he hurried down the hot, dusty banquette, his thoughts turned to Desirée. She was partly to blame for his exhausted state. He'd not had a decent night's rest since her arrival. He still couldn't figure her out. She was so straightforward. She had certainly been fast enough letting him know that marriage was not in her plans. He had blithely agreed with her resolve at the moment. But more and more often these days, he caught himself thinking about how it would be to awake every morning to those gold-starred eyes staring dreamily into his, that dark curtain of hair brushing his chest, and that lovely form lying naked beside him. Even now, tired as he was, he felt a stirring in his blood at the thought. Perhaps he'd been too hasty in agreeing to her scheme to keep the well-meaning matchmakers at bay. Something had to be done and soon! He couldn't go on like this much longer.
He stopped for a moment to mop his brow as he mounted the steps to Josie Arlington's place. "Damn this heat!" he muttered. He was just starting up when Desirée came out of the door. He squinted into the sun's fierce glare and cursed under his breath. There was no mistaking her this time. He now knew every subtle difference between Garnet and Desirée all too well!
What the hell was she doing _here_?
"Mademoiselle La Fleur!" His angry voice boomed in the lazy afternoon quiet of Basin Street.
She looked down at him, her hand flying to her mouth to cover a startled cry. She wanted to flee, but he was blocking her way. Moving like lightning, Roman advanced up the stairs and took a firm grip on her elbow.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
Gold-green fire flashed in Desirée's eyes as she answered. "I'm doing my job, if it's any of your business, and I really don't see that it is!"
"Your _job_?"
"That's right. I've been hired by Mr. Bigelow at the _Mascot_ , and I've been interviewing Miss Arlington for my new column. It went quite well for my first assignment, I'm pleased to say. Now, if you will kindly release me, I'll be on my way."
Roman did not release her. He stood where he was, gripping her arm and staring down at her, his eyes fierce. He never quite knew how to handle this woman. One moment she was all soft, sweet innocence, and the next moment she was a flaming reformer, totally beyond his control. Right now, he felt as if he'd just been kicked in the gut in a barroom brawl. But he refused to allow this snip of a female to get the better of him.
"I warned you not to come here alone, Desirée."
She narrowed her eyes to long catlike slits and purred, "But I chose to ignore your warning, and, as you can see, I am quite capable of handling myself. I Ve come to no harm whatsoever."
Desirée was fighting for control. By the time she'd escaped from the Arlington, she'd been near tears. Josie had demanded that she move right in... that she begin work this very evening by mingling with the customers in the parlor. "You're your own best advertisement, honey," Josie had declared. "We'll let the johns eyeball the merchandise for a bit before they're allowed to touch. That way, when the big night comes, we'll have them lined up with fistfuls of money just waiting their turn for a romp in the kip with you, dearie."
Josie Arlington's descriptive language had both frightened and sickened Desirée. She'd sought immediate escape. Pleading that she had to retrieve her trunk and bring it to the Arlington, she'd fled the Japanese parlor and its over-anxious madam. But she dared not let Roman see how upset she was.
Desirée needn't have worried. Roman St. Vincent was far too disturbed to notice her true state. He took the frightened glitter in her eyes for excitement at having accomplished her goal without his help and against his orders. Her slight trembling he mistook for exhilaration. And the blush in her cheeks—a flush of pure terror—he attributed to the heat of the afternoon. But still, he couldn't bring himself to let her out of his sight. He told himself he was worried for her safety, but, in truth, he only wanted her near.
"Since you're in such an adventurous mood, how would you like to meet another of the legendary ladies of the district?"
Desirée was exhausted, drained, near-swooning at her close escape. "Right now?" she asked.
"This very minute!" He tugged her toward Mahogany Hall.
"Who, Roman?"
He stopped for a moment, turning her toward him to search her eyes with his. He was frowning down at her, trying to sort out all his feelings—his needs, his desires, his memories of past loves and disappointments.
His gaze stunned Desirée. _Why_ did he have to look at her that way? And why did his merest glance make her weak all over, hot through and through? At this moment, all of Basin Street vanished. She was locked in his eyes. She could see her image distinctly in the storm-blue pools. She wanted Roman to hold her close, to protect her, to make love to her. But she fought the urge to cling to him.
"Who, Roman?" she asked again in the barest whisper.
"I think it's time you met Garnet."
Before Desirée could sort out her feelings or say a word, a woman's strident voice ripped through the hot, still air. "Hey, Doc! Are you going to just stand there on Josie's stoop all afternoon?"
Desirée darted a glance toward the front door of Mahogany Hall and her breath caught in her throat. There stood Garnet in all her garish beauty. Desirée felt a chill pass through her. Roman was right; there was an amazing resemblance. The face—a bit fuller, but very like her own. The hair—not so neat, but the same color and texture. Even the woman's figure mirrored her own. Only Garnet's clothing, her makeup, and her exotic hairstyle set them drastically apart. It gave Desirée an eerie feeling. Gooseflesh prickled her arms, and her heart pounded faster.
"Garnet, I've brought someone I want you to meet," Roman called, starting toward Mahogany Hall with Desirée in tow.
Garnet's smile straightened into a hard, bleak line, making her look older. She recognized Desirée as her look-alike and nodded. "Bring her on up, then."
Desirée's terror returned. She had the sudden urge to turn and flee, but Roman held her fast.
He tugged at her arm when she held back. "Well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Yes, but..."
"Then come along. She's waiting."
It was obvious that Roman, angry that she had disobeyed his orders, meant to force this confrontation here and now. It wasn't fair! Desirée had wanted to choose her own time. But finally, curiosity overrode her fear. Bracing herself for the meeting, she started up the stairs.
###
# Chapter Eight
As she entered Mahogany Hall, Desirée hardly noticed the posh bordello's lavish decor. Instead of peering into the five parlors opening onto the central hall, she was watching Garnet tug Roman St. Vincent into one of them. Instead of staring at the rich velvets and brocades of the furnishings, she was gaping at the garish, almost transparent red silk kimono her double wore. Instead of seeing her image in the mirrors cloaking the walls, she was gazing at her own likeness, standing there before her, with pale arms draped around Roman in an all too familiar embrace.
"Good to see you, Doc," Garnet purred, leaning her slender body into his. "I been waitin' all day. How's my ma?"
"Better, I believe, but..."
Before Roman could finish his statement, Garnet went up on tiptoe and gave him a deep, lingering kiss. Desirée felt her face flush, while her blood ran to ice. Unconsciously, she cleared her throat in embarrassment. Garnet turned to stare her straight in the eye as if challenging her to say a word.
"So, this is the one." Garnet's voice was cold, almost threatening. "I been wondering when you'd bring her around, Doc."
Roman forcibly removed Garnet's arms from around his neck and went to stand beside Desirée. He introduced the two women with the utmost formality.
"I see why you were asking all those questions, Doc. She does favor me a bit. Course it's plain as day _she_ ain't no high-yeller. Pure as the driven snow through and through, I'll bet." Garnet followed her statement with a derisive laugh.
Desirée couldn't take her eyes off the woman. Just looking at Garnet gave her the oddest feeling, as if they had met before. Still, that was impossible. There was one thing about Garnet, however, that was all too possible. She wanted Roman St. Vincent. Shock and embarrassment hadn't been her only reactions at seeing Garnet kiss Roman. Desirée immediately recognized her deep, sickening discomfort as jealousy. Dealing with it was quite another matter.
Garnet, too, was experiencing her full measure of feelings toward this woman who shared her face, her figure, _her man_ , as she thought of Roman. Tales spread fast in New Orleans, especially throughout the elegant mansions and lowly hovels of Storyville. There wasn't a house girl or a crib whore in the district who hadn't heard that Dr. Roman St. Vincent was paying serious court to Desirée La Fleur. Whatever chance with him Garnet had hoped for was fading fast. It vexed her, too, that he could fall for her double. Why not me? a nagging little voice in her heart kept crying.
Desirée stood, stiff and nervous, wondering what to say. Garnet refused to turn her eyes away, making the situation more tense by the moment. Except for the distant ticking of a clock, silence reigned in the parlor.
Finally, Roman cleared his throat and spoke. "Desirée has been anxious to meet you, Garnet. I've told her a lot about you."
Garnet gave a low, rough chuckle. "Not as much as you could have told her, Doc, if you'd come around and pay me a call some night."
Roman ignored the barb and hurried on. "Desirée is doing a series of articles for the _Mascot_. I think she'd like to talk to you, get more information about life here in the tenderloin."
Desirée noticed Garnet's hard expression soften almost imperceptibly. "You want to write about _me_? Lordy, I ain't got nothing worth telling!"
"Everyone has a story," Desirée began hesitantly. "Roman tells me your mother is still living here in the city and that she's been quite ill. It seems that there is still a warm relationship between the two of you. How does she feel about your... _occupation_?"
They had seated themselves at a small table now, and Desirée had her pad and pen out, jotting notes while Roman looked on.
"Hell! My ma taught me everything I know! Why, she was the best damn crib whore in all N' Orleans in her day."
Desirée winced at each foul word, but she managed to keep her voice calm and her pen moving. "Suppose the right man came along, Garnet? A man who could take you away from all this. Would you leave this life?"
A long silence greeted the question. Desirée looked up from her notes to see Garnet staring longingly across at Roman. When she answered, her voice had softened. Her words sounded almost tender. "I found the right man. A long time ago." Then she tossed her head defiantly, and the strident tone returned to her speech. "But I ain't good enough for him. So that's that! I'm here to stay. Lived the better part of my life in this place, and I reckon I'll die in bed with a trick, right here at Mahogany Hall! But I'll be wearing silks and laces and drinking the best champagne! You can bet on that, lady! Garnet Gold goes first class right on down the line!"
Desirée felt her heart suddenly twist for this young woman. All her coarse language and bravado couldn't hide the loneliness of her life or the emptiness stretching before her. If only there were some way to help her. She was still thinking on the problem when Garnet's voice drew her attention.
"Hey, Doc, sounds like your friend here's lost her voice. How about getting her a drink?"
Desirée glanced at Roman and smiled nervously. "Water would be fine, thank you."
The moment he left the room, Garnet leaned toward Desirée and gripped her arm. "Listen, sweetie, this ain't what you need to write about. You need to see the place in action. It's like a tomb around here this time of day. Most of the gals are sleeping. We ain't even open for business. The real stories come around after dark."
Excitement gripped Desirée. This was just the sort of offer she'd hoped for. Still, as Roman had warned, it could be dangerous.
"Roman insisted we come to visit you during the day," Desirée started to explain.
Garnet gave a snort of contempt. "And you do exactly what he says every minute, I suppose! I thought only pimps owned their women!"
The very idea sparked fire in Desirée's soul. "No one _owns_ me! I do _what_ I please, _when_ I please!"
"That's the spirit! Maybe we're more alike than I thought." Garnet laughed and squeezed Desirée's hand. A conspiratorial light danced in her eyes. "I've got a plan to get you the real low-down on this place, if you're game, sweetie."
By the time Roman returned to the parlor, the two women had their scheme worked out. Desirée would return alone to Mahogany Hall one evening soon. Garnet would introduce her to the other girls shortly before opening. She could talk to all of them, even Lulu White herself, then she could leave before the first customers arrived. She could go home then to write the biggest inside story ever.
Desirée could hardly contain her excitement. This was exactly what she'd wanted. And it would be far less risky than her original plan, going back to the Arlington where Miss Josie expected her to go to work. She was both relieved and delighted. She decided that Garnet wasn't such a bad sort after all.
Roman tried to shy away from Garnet's kiss as they were leaving. But it was no use. To Desirée it was all too obvious that Garnet was in love with Roman. And, if Garnet couldn't have what she wanted from him, she would settle for what she could get. How terribly sad, Desirée thought, to have to live that way.
Once they were out on the street again, Roman turned to Desirée. "I'm sorry if she embarrassed you. It's just her nature. She lives in a crude world."
Desirée tried to laugh it off. "Don't we all! At least she's honest about her feelings. The rest of us spend all our time pretending."
Roman looked at her oddly, and Desirée regretted the words the moment they passed her lips.
"I think that statement deserves an explanation, Desirée. I'd like to hear it."
They were walking past Tom Anderson's saloon. The man who was known as the "Mayor of Storyville" kept his business open around the clock. The noise—jazz music and brawling drunks—was deafening. Desirée couldn't have answered Roman if she'd wanted to. In order to avoid his probing gaze, she glanced inside the open doors of Anderson's. All hundred electric lights that the place boasted glared brightly even though it was the middle of the afternoon. She spotted Josie Arlington leaning over the bar and quickly speeded up her pace. She couldn't let the woman see her.
"Well, Desirée?"
She sighed and turned to him. "Roman, are you blind? Garnet is in love with you!"
"I can't help that," he answered softly.
"You don't love her?"
He shook his head. "And never could. It's one of the cruelties of life, that we always seem to fall in love with the wrong people."
"Well, I certainly never have!" Desirée's words sounded pompous even to her own ears.
Roman patted her gloved hand. "Then you've been lucky, my dear. Very lucky!"
The drift of the conversation was making Desirée uneasy. What was he trying to tell her? "You mean you've been in love with someone who didn't return your affections?"
He looked down at her, and the expression of pain in his blue eyes made her want to weep for him. "Just like Garnet, I am at this very moment," he answered softly.
Desirée could hardly believe his statement. She could think of no reply at all. His confession was the last thing in the world she had expected. So this was why he had agreed to their "arranged courtship" so quickly. Somewhere, probably in this very city, was a woman who possessed Roman St. Vincent's heart, but refused to accept his devotion. How utterly _stupid_ life could be at times! Here were two women—herself and Garnet—who would give up anything, _everything_ to have Roman, and his affections were being denied by another.
Desirée hurried along Basin Street, her head down, unable to make further conversation for fear her voice would break as her heart seemed to be doing.
So much for ardent declarations, Roman thought as they moved on in silence. He'd been trying to think of a way for days to let Desirée know how he truly felt about her. Now, he'd come right out and told her and she'd greeted his confession with grim silence. Well, this battle might be lost, but he still meant to win the war!
He'd never met a woman like Desirée. He knew exactly how to treat southern belles and Storyville whores, but Miss La Fleur, with her high-toned education and reformer's ways, was a whole new breed to him. He had thought honesty and the most direct route would be the best approach. But see where that got you, old boy, he thought grimly.
So now what? Perhaps he should just haul her off to his house upriver and ravage her on the spot. He smiled. It was a tempting idea! But a sidelong glance at Desirée made him change his mind quickly. She was a special lady, like a delicate flower. He imagined that she would be a wonder to love, but only after the proper formalities—bridal lace, cathedral candles, and a priest to make everything legal. Yes, that was the way it would have to be. His dreams of taking her as a lover would never have worked. But now he knew what he must do. He would bide his time, pay her proper court, and—by God—sooner or later he would win her! Surely, he could convince her that marriage was a far better way of life than the loneliness of a spinster's existence. Desirée La Fleur, he was beginning to suspect, was not so determined after all to cast her corset upon the armoire!
Roman hailed a hack at the corner of Basin and Canal and they rode in silence to the Duplantier house in the Garden District. He declined an invitation to dinner, giving business as his excuse. He still needed to look in on Ruby, and he had to check on Garnet's mother. He might be there late into the night.
"What about tomorrow night, Desirée?" His tone was hopeful.
She started to agree. Then she remembered she had work to do and plans to make. "I'm sorry, Roman. I'll be busy all day and possibly into the evening." She was half tempted to cancel everything for him. As much as she wanted to write, to reform, to see Mahogany Hall in action, she wanted to be with Roman more.
"I understand." His answer sounded hard and flat. He didn't understand at all.
Desirée caught his arm as he turned to leave. "Please, Roman, you aren't angry?"
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Angry? Should I be? If you wish to see someone else, I can't stop you. We have no _real_ hold on each other."
Before Desirée could say another word, he was gone. She sank down in a chair in the hallway, letting her face fall into her open palms. She felt sick and empty and so alone. Why, even Garnet had received a kiss before his departure! But all she got was a cold look and a colder word. What did she have to do to get through to him? She tried to tell herself that he _did_ have business tonight. But in her deepest heart of hearts, she knew he was seeing that other woman. Who could she be? Did he still keep a mistress? She couldn't bear to think about him with anyone else.
Desirée gave into her feelings only for a moment. By the time Nanine came into the hall, she had pulled herself together. Her tears were dry, her back was straight, but her heart was still aching.
I won't give up! she thought determinedly. I want him, and I will have him, even if I have to be as forward as Garnet to get him!
"Desirée, are you all right?" Nanine felt her forehead, checking for fever. "You look so flushed and drawn."
"It's been a very hot day, Nan, that's all."
Nanine took Desirée's hand in hers and patted it solicitously. "I thought I heard Roman's voice a moment ago."
The very name stabbed at Desirée's heart. "Yes, but he had to leave. He has _business_ tonight."
Nanine sighed. "Well, then, I suppose it will be just us girls this evening. Placide has a meeting at his club. What would you like to do?"
Desirée gazed out through the frosted glass of the front window. The sun was setting, turning the panes to shimmering, rosy pearl. She could think of nothing she wanted to do unless it included Roman. "I don't know, Nanine. Maybe I'll go to bed early."
"Oh, come now! We could at least go for a drive after supper."
Suddenly, Desirée was interested. She had shared Nanine's secret mission. Now her friend could help her.
"Nanine, do you know where Roman lives?"
"Of course, dear, but I thought you said he had business tonight."
Desirée was on her feet, all her drained energy returning like a flash flood. "I'd just like to see where he lives. I'm curious, that's all. Why don't we go right now?"
Moments later, the two women were in the buggy, heading for Roman's residence on Esplanade. Desirée was not disappointed. Just as they came within sight of his house, Roman drove out of the carriage drive, heading, Desirée surmised, for his rendezvous. She touched up the horse and followed him.
"Whatever are you doing, Desirée?" Nanine demanded.
"I want to see where he's going."
"I must protest! It isn't ladylike to follow a gentleman when he goes out in the evening!"
Desirée laughed, but without humor. "Nevertheless, we're going to! Roman told me something today that upset me. I owe it to myself to find out where he's headed tonight."
Nanine placed a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "I'm so sorry you're upset, dear. What did he say?"
Desirée bit her lower lip for a moment to keep her voice steady when she spoke. "That there's another woman he's in love with, someone who doesn't return his affections. I think I have a right to know who that woman is. And my guess is that he's on his way to her."
For a long time, Nanine said nothing. She seemed totally absorbed in the lace trimming on her gloves. But a glance in her direction told Desirée that her friend had something more important on her mind, something she was trying to work up the courage to talk about.
"Nanine," Desirée said gently, "is there something you want to tell me?"
"No!" She answered too quickly.
"You might as well come out with it. You know we could never keep secrets from each other."
Still, there was no reply. Desirée sighed. They had been through this many times before. She knew she would have to drag the information out of Nanine.
"You know about Roman's other woman, don't you? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me get involved with him when you knew it could come to nothing?"
Nanine came suddenly alive. "Oh, no, Desirée! I'd never have invited him to dinner if I'd known he cared for someone else. You must take my word for that! Why, even now I can't believe what you're saying!"
Desirée did believe her, but it helped little. The ache in her heart was there, and nothing Nanine said could take it away. Only Roman could do that.
A sudden thought struck Desirée. He could never marry a woman of color. That could be the answer. "Does Roman still keep a mistress, Nanine?" Desirée demanded.
Nanine gasped softly and fingered the ruffle at her throat. "We don't discuss such matters, dear."
"I'm not asking you to discuss it, I only want an answer. Does he or doesn't he?"
Nanine gazed off into the growing twilight, trying to pretend she hadn't heard. But it was no use. Desirée, when she was this determined, would not give up short of having her answer. "I really couldn't say, Desirée. But, if he does, would it be so shocking? Most Creole men have their secret lovers."
Desirée was stunned by her friend's answer and by the calm, unaffected manner in which she said the words. It was almost as if she didn't care, as if she expected it of Roman and, yes, even of Placide!
"You said _most men_. Does that include your own husband?"
A deep blush suffused Nanine's cheeks. "I really feel uncomfortable talking about such matters, Desirée. Can't you just let it drop?"
"No, I can't!" Desirée cried. "And if you believe for one instant that your husband keeps another woman on the side, you should order him out of the house this very night!" The buggy seat was her soapbox now, and Desirée was warming to her subject. "Why, how can you even bear to think that you might be sharing your husband with someone else? It's barbaric! It's unthinkable! What would Placide do if he thought you were seeing another man?"
Nanine shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "Please, Desirée, calm down. You know I'd never be unfaithful to my marriage vows. And I have no reason to be. Placide is a kind and loving husband."
"Yet you would accept his having a mistress without the slightest qualm or question. It wouldn't bother you at all because 'most Creole men do.'"
"I never said it wouldn't bother me," Nanine answered firmly. "It's merely that I love my husband enough to accept whatever he might do."
"Then you are a fool, Nanine!"
Ahead of them, Roman's buggy turned a corner and vanished. Desirée snapped the reins to catch up. Once the carriage with yellow wheels was within her line of vision again, Desirée settled back and kept the horse at a steady pace.
"You still haven't answered my question, Nanine. Does Roman keep a mistress?"
Nanine was sniffing back tears. She was hurt and angry and thoroughly miserable by this time. She never talked about the possibility of Placide's having another woman because she couldn't bear to think about it. It was as simple as that. Now Desirée had brought all of her old doubts and fears out into the open.
"Well? Are you going to answer me or not?"
"I'll answer you!" Nanine exhibited a pluck she was far from feeling. "Yes! I would say that Roman St. Vincent undoubtedly has a mistress and that's where he's headed at this very moment."
She'd thought that getting even with Desirée, making her feel miserable, too, would help. But the sudden sag of her friend's shoulders only made her feel worse. Revenge, she knew, was the least satisfying of all human emotions.
"I don't know why your words should bother me. I'd already guessed as much. Do you have any idea who the woman is, Nanine?"
Trying to soothe, Nanine said, "I don't even know for sure that there is a woman, Desirée. I only said that he _probably_ has someone. You see, since his wife's death, he has shunned romantic relationships. You are the first woman he's shown any interest in, as far as I know. But a man as handsome and virile as Roman, well, it just stands to reason that he is not one to lead a monk's life. It seems there must be someone."
"Tell me about his wife, Nanine. Did you know her?"
Nanine shook her head. "No. She died before Placide and I were married. But I've heard all the gossip."
"What kind of gossip?"
"Oh, please, Desirée, you don't want to hear this."
"I do!"
"You won't repeat it?"
"I promise."
Nanine sighed and settled back, letting her thoughts drift for a moment. "Roman and Courtney were the victims of an age-old Creole custom, the arranged marriage. Their parents signed the agreement when they were both infants. The people who knew her say that Courtney was a lovely girl—vivacious, charming, the perfect Creole belle. But in her teens, she fell desperately ill. She never fully recovered. Roman could have backed out of the marriage. His parents wanted him to. But he left it to Courtney. I suppose she loved him dearly and, knowing that she had only a short time to live, she wanted to spend what little time she had left as Roman's wife."
Unconsciously, Desirée drew back on the reins. "She _loved_ him?"
"Do you find that so hard to believe? You seem quite taken with him. Most women are."
"It's just that Roman told me there was no love between them."
"Roman was a bitter man, so I've been told. A physician saddled with a patient for a wife."
Desirée's thoughts toward Roman were beginning to soften. "He told me that he kept a lover during his marriage. He said something like 'I didn't love my wife enough to give up my mistress.'"
Nanine shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with her hankie. "You mustn't fault him for that, dear. Courtney was an invalid. Everyone knew that the marriage would never be consummated."
Desirée tightened her lips to keep from blurting out that it certainly had been, and she knew all the terrible details from Roman himself.
The carriage ahead of them had turned into Rampart Street and was slowing before a row of shotgun houses. Desirée had to hear the rest of the story, quickly.
"How did Courtney die? Was it her illness?"
"No!" Nanine whispered. "That was the dreadful part. Roman left her alone one evening to visit his lover, so they say. When he returned, he found Courtney dead. She had hanged herself from the tester of their bed. They say she left a note, telling Roman not to blame himself. Of course, that only served to make the weight of his guilt more unbearable. And since that day, they say he has never allowed himself another woman. He does his penance by taking care of the women in Storyville."
Desirée found herself overwhelmed with both sorrow and relief. If the sad story was true, then Roman could not be keeping a mistress. But her eyes seemed to deny that fact. She watched Roman climb down from his buggy, a bouquet of flowers in hand, and stride quickly to the front door of one of the houses.
Sensing her friend's unhappiness, Nanine said softly, "Perhaps he's only looking in on one of his patients, dear."
Desirée almost let herself grasp at that straw; until Roman, not bothering to knock, took a key from his pocket, opened the door, and disappeared inside.
Feeling her heart pounding painfully in her breast, Desirée slapped the reins smartly across the horse's rump and the buggy sped away. She could not bear to think what was going on inside the neat white house with the purple petunias blooming out front.
###
# Chapter Nine
The moment Roman let himself into the cottage, a young woman hurried from the bedroom to meet him. The girl was only sixteen but already she had the look of a woman. Her long, straight hair swung loose, cascading over her shoulders and full breasts, and brushing her nicely rounded hips. In the dim lamplight, he saw the pout of her red lips in half shadow. Her long lashes fluttered rapidly. Her slender hands reached out to him.
"Roman, I'm so glad you've come!" There was a quiet urgency in her voice. "I've needed you desperately."
"What's happened, Adelé?"
"She's worse, coughing until she can hardly catch her breath. I've done everything I know to do for her. If you hadn't come, I'm afraid..."
"Sh-h-h, now!" he soothed the near-hysterical girl. "You're a good nurse, child. I know you've done what was best. I'll go have a look at her."
The tall, slender girl slumped, exhausted, onto the couch. She could hardly believe the relief she felt at the doctor's arrival. She had tended Garnet Gold's mother for over a year now, since the day Roman St. Vincent took her away from Mahogany Hall and began teaching her the skills she now possessed. She found nursing far preferable to prostitution, the life she had thought would be so glamorous when she foolishly ran away from home. She had endured three months of hell in Lulu White's brothel before the Saint of Storyville rescued her. Now she would do anything to repay him. But it seemed that in this case she was doomed to failure. Still, if anyone could save the old woman, Roman could. Adelé's own rescue was not the first miracle she had seen him perform.
Adelé rose and picked up the bouquet of flowers Roman had brought for Garnet's mama. Carefully, she arranged them in a green glass vase. She tiptoed into the bedroom to see how their patient was.
"Just set the flowers there, so she'll see them when she wakes up," Roman whispered. "You did just fine, Adelé, as much as I could have done for her. She should sleep the night through."
Adelé found herself trembling with relief as she stared down at the woman's face, calm now in sleep. An hour before, she had been delirious with fever—raving and fighting to rise from her bed. It had taken all Adelé's strength and courage to restrain her.
"You look tired, my dear," Roman said gently. "Why don't you try to get some rest? I'll sit with her while you lie down."
Adelé shook her head. She was weary, but she'd much rather spend the time with Roman. It would be restful just to sit with him and talk quietly. She motioned him out of the room.
"I've made coffee, Roman. Will you have a cup with me?"
He nodded and followed her into the parlor. They settled themselves at a small, round table, drinking the strong, black brew in silence for a few moments.
"She seemed so much better this morning," Roman said at length.
Adelé nodded her agreement. "Yes, she seemed fine earlier. She sat up in bed for a while and she talked to me. She even laughed. Her spirits were high. No fever at all."
"She'll have her good times and bad, I'm afraid. She isn't out of the woods yet," Roman warned. "But the three of us have come a long way in the last couple of months."
Adelé smiled shyly. It made her feel warm through and through when Roman included her in this battle of life and death. She felt he gave her far more credit than was due. Still, his compliments never failed to make her work harder, trying to make their patient well.
Roman seemed to withdraw from her suddenly. It was as if he had drifted off into his own world, somewhere far away from the tiny shotgun house and its two inhabitants. She kept her peace, knowing that he needed these periods of quiet once a hard-fought battle was won.
After a few moments, Roman raised his head, looking directly into Adelé's dark eyes, his own cloudy blue with worry.
"Adelé," he said gently, "have you ever been in love?"
His question threw her. It was the last thing she had expected from him. She wasn't sure she could give him an answer.
"You forget at times how young I am, Roman. Can one my age truly know of love?"
He chuckled softly. "Ah, but you are wise beyond your years."
"Experienced beyond my years, don't you mean?" She cast her gaze down, embarrassed at her own mention of her sordid background.
Roman covered one of her small hands with his. "That isn't your fault, Adelé. All young girls do impetuous things. I've told you, you must forget about all that."
She looked up with tears swimming in her eyes. "But you did not tell me how I am supposed to forget. At night when I try to sleep, I see their faces in the dark, hovering over me, leering down at me—all those men, all those lusting, groping men." Her voice broke and she paused for a moment to regain control. Then she went on, but her tone told of her pain. "You asked me of love, Roman. How can I dare love any man after what I have been?"
Roman combed his fingers through his hair in a gesture of weariness. "Adelé! Adelé! You are far too young to sound so cynical. When a man loves a woman, he can forgive her anything. Don't close your mind and your heart to love, my dear."
Adelé wished with her very soul that Roman were saying these things because he felt some deep and moving emotion for her. But she knew better. Roman St. Vincent was a man tortured by his past, unable to live in peace with the present or to look with hope to the future. Perhaps it was her turn to try soothing words.
"You aren't really talking about me, are you, Roman? _You_ are in love!"
He avoided her eyes, stirring his cold coffee with great purpose. At length, he sighed and nodded. "I'm afraid I am, for the first time in my life." He looked up at her, holding her with the intensity of his gaze. "And, Adelé, I don't know what I'm going to do about it."
"You meant she doesn't love you?" The girl could barely contain her shock. What woman would not love Roman St. Vincent?
A moment later, Roman found himself pouring out the whole tale of his meeting with Desirée, the case of mistaken identity, their bogus courtship arrangement, his confession of his feelings toward her, and her lack of response. Adelé sat silent, listening and aching for him.
Finally, Roman said, "I shouldn't be burdening you with all this. It's my own fault. And I deserve every ounce of pain I have to suffer after what I did to Courtney."
Adelé reached across the table and gripped his shoulders, shaking him with some force. "Stop it, Roman! You did nothing to your wife! She made her own decision. She was simply a poor, sick woman who could stand no more pain. I may have been too young to remember, but my own mother told me how it was. And as Miss Courtney's maid, she knew her better than anyone, even you."
Roman slumped his shoulders, burying his face in his hands. He'd tried to convince himself that Courtney's death wasn't his fault, but if he had been at home with her instead of passing a pleasant evening with his mistress, his wife might still be alive. He'd punished himself all these years. In the beginning, he'd denied himself all pleasures of the flesh, meaning to continue his celibate life to the end of his days. But after two years, he had given in to his lust once, then again and again. Still, he had assured himself that a need of the flesh was all he was satisfying. He would never allow himself to love anyone because he had failed to love his wife.
But now it was different. Now there was Desirée....
By the time Desirée and Nanine returned to the house on Prytania Street, Desirée's jealousy and pain had turned to cold fury. How dare Roman St. Vincent not love her! Did he think she went around passing out her affections like one of the women in Storyville? For the very first time in her life, she was in love. To have that love denied was more than she could abide and still retain her sanity.
The minute they reached the carriage house, Desirée fled to her room, not even answering Nanine when she asked if a game of hearts might not be a pleasant way to spend the evening.
Once in her room, Desirée first gave in to a flood of angry tears. When she had cried herself out, she opened her journal. Her hand flew as she scribbled all the thoughts and feelings on the page. At last, her rage was spent.
Feeling calmer, she began working on her article for the _Mascot_. But something was missing. Though she had her interviews with Josie Arlington and Garnet, the piece lacked substance. Desirée wanted to be a part of her writing. In these interviews, she was only the silent bystander, listening and recording. Especially now, she wanted to be the star of her feature.
She paused in mid-sentence and tapped her teeth with her pen, thinking. Up till now, she had been cautious, not wanting to embarrass Roman with her actions. But what did that matter? There was no need any longer to act discreetly in order to keep peace between them. There could be no peace in a relationship that included a second woman tucked away for his convenience in a cozy cottage. He had called her a "flaming reformer." Well, _flame_ she would!
As she crawled into bed, her mind was whirling. She knew exactly what she would do the next day. It was time someone took a stand and she was just the one to do it.
She was smiling as she drifted off to sleep. What a surprise she had in store for Roman St. Vincent... for all of New Orleans!
The next morning, Desirée was up and out of the house even before Placide rose to go to the bank. She left a note, saying that she had business for the newspaper and might be late returning that night. She assured her cousins that they need not worry about her.
Her first stop was at a stationer on Canal Street. She purchased a large sheet of cardboard, India ink, and a wide brush. Hurrying down the street, she stopped in at a hardware store. Her shopping bag, when she left there, contained a hammer, nails, a piece of two-inch plank, and a stout length of rope. A pawn shop in the French Quarter provided the other necessary item on her list, a pair of sturdy handcuffs.
A half hour after her shopping spree, Desirée—glowing with the heat of excitement, flaming with the bright fire of reform—reached her destination.
The first people to notice her were the noon hour drop-ins, stopping off at Tom Anderson's saloon for a nickel of beer and a sandwich.
"Hey, Tom me-boy," a burly, Irish stevedore called as he entered the brightly lit barroom, "what's Garnet doing out front with that big sign?"
The red-haired tavern keeper twitched his handlebar mustache and squinted his eyes toward the door. "Garnet, is it? Damned if I know! What's her sign say?"
The Irishman grinned and slapped Tom on the back. "Now, lad, ye know readin' ain't me long suit. Ye'll have to go out and see for your own self."
Tom Anderson did just that. And when he read the signboard Desirée carried, his naturally florid face turned bright crimson with rage.
Up and down she strode, covering the block of Basin Street between Iberville and Bienville, from Tom Anderson's to Lulu White's and back again, her head held high and her sign held higher, one side of it proclaiming to the world that "DEMON RUM IS THE DEVIL'S WORK," while the reverse side admonished all New Orleans to "FREE THE POOR WHITE SLAVES OF STORYVILLE."
A crowd of men, who normally would have been inside Anderson's spending hard cash on hard liquor, gathered on the banquette to watch Desirée, taunting and teasing her, trying to break the firm set of her unsmiling features.
"Damn!" Anderson cursed. "Garnet's always up to something, but this is the limit!"
He went after Desirée, catching her arm in a bruising grip. "That'll be all, Garnet! Give me that sign!"
Desirée gave it to him all right. A good crack across the skull sent him reeling. The rowdies in the street gave her a cheer.
After a moment, Anderson's head cleared, and he chased her again, grappling with her for possession of the sign.
"Let go, Garnet, or I'm going for Lulu," he warned.
"By all means, go for Lulu!" she told him through clenched teeth. It was taking all her strength to keep him from ripping the sign from her grasp.
Doors were opening all up and down the street. Girls were hanging out of their windows to get a better view. The sight of them—awakened from their midday naps and only partially clothed—sent the men below into a frenzy. They began shouting invitations to the women. Traffic slowed to a standstill. Only Desirée kept moving.
Tom Anderson pounded on the door of Mahogany Hall. When Lulu answered, he yelled, "What the hell does Garnet think she's doing? You better learn to control your girls or, by all that's holy, I'm calling in the law!"
Lulu eyed Tom coolly. He was not one of her favorite people in Storyville. Everyone knew that Josie Arlington was his lover, and as such she gained certain privileges from the local authorities that were denied the other madams.
"For your information, Garnet is upstairs asleep," Lulu yelled back at him.
Anderson waved an arm toward Desirée and said, "Oh, yeah? Then who's that? I'm calling the cops!"
But the police had been alerted already to a riot in Basin Street. Their horse-drawn paddy wagons came careening around the corner at that very moment. Pedestrians scattered. Still Desirée walked and waved her sign, looking as calm and unruffled as could be.
She missed nothing of the mob scene her one-woman parade was causing. She could see that the crowd was growing by the minute. She saw Tom Anderson and Lulu White in deep, heated discussion. She even noticed Garnet, hanging out of her window, grinning down at her. When she spied the police arriving, Desirée knew she had to move fast.
Quickly, she ran to the wrought-iron banister of the Arlington and tied herself to the heavy lace. While the patrolmen were racing this way and that, trying to find some culprit to arrest, Desirée wound the rope round and round, knotting it a dozen times.
"There she is!" she heard Tom Anderson yell. "Arrest her for disturbing the peace!"
Immediately, four policemen were upon her, trying to untangle the confused loops and twists of rope. Desirée squirmed this way and that, making their work all the more difficult. At last, the final stubborn knot gave way. A cheer went up from all around.
"Take her in, Mooney," O'Reilly ordered. He'd had enough of this one already.
"Aye, sir," Mooney answered.
But just as he started to grab Desirée to hustle her toward his wagon, she used her emergency measure. Whipping the handcuffs out of her pocket, she closed one over her wrist and the other to the iron railing.
"Aw, miss, now what'd you go and do that for?" Mooney moaned. "Give us the key, like a good girl."
"I do not intend to free myself or move from this spot until this whole block is closed and these poor unfortunates," she gestured dramatically toward the laughing whores leaning out of the windows, "are released from their bondage!"
When Mooney tried to grab the key from Desirée's free hand, she dropped it quickly down her bodice.
Roman had had a miserable night. Garnet's poor mother had awakened at midnight, raving and screaming, out of her head once more with fever. It had taken both himself and Adelé to bring her under control. He hadn't dared leave the young nurse alone with her.
So the two of them had sat up all night, drinking coffee and talking. He'd rambled on and on about his unhappiness. Adelé was such a good listener. But instead of helping, all the talk had made him feel worse. His head ached, his body screamed for sleep, he was in every way out of sorts. The mob in Basin Street didn't help matters any. He'd meant to pay a quick call on his patient at the Arlington, then go home and fall into bed. But some sort of riot was in progress when he arrived.
Pushing and shoving the jeering men out of his way, he reached Josie Arlington's just in time to see Mooney grab at a woman on the stairs. No doubt one of Josie's girls had started all this trouble. They were a wild bunch.
But as Mooney moved aside, Roman stopped dead in his tracks. "Desirée!" he groaned.
He took in the whole scene in an instant—the sign, the rope, the handcuffs. "My flaming reformer," he muttered. Then a small smile stole over his face as he watched her dispose of the key.
Mooney stood back rubbing the stubble on his chin and muttering to himself as Roman approached.
"Having a problem, Officer?" Roman asked.
"Worst day of me life!" Mooney mumbled, then seeing the Saint of Storyville, he brightened. "See here, Doc, this lady's causing the most unholy row with her shenanigans. She's gone and fastened herself to the banister."
"Why don't you simply unlock the cuffs?" Roman asked with mild derision.
"Well, you see, sir, it ain't all that easy." Mooney was actually blushing. He leaned close to Roman and whispered, "She disposed of the key, you might say. Dropped the blessed thing down her boobs, she did!"
Roman nodded sagely. "Ah, I see! Well, I think I can handle this situation for you."
"I'd be much obliged, sir," Mooney answered, relieved.
Desirée had caught sight of Roman coming through the crowd. Now she held her head high, showing as much disdain for him as for the rest of the ogling, jeering crowd. She had certainly been noticed, she assured herself.
But when she heard Roman tell the officer that he would take care of the situation, Desirée lost some of her cool control. As he moved toward her, a sinister smile on his face, she shrank away. In one horrible flash, she understood his intent.
"You wouldn't dare!" she gasped, clutching at her bosom with her free hand.
He chuckled, amused by the horror in her tone. "You needn't be embarrassed, Desirée. I'm a doctor."
A moment later, his hand slipped down into the bodice of her dress, fishing for the key. The crowd cheered its loudest thus far, and Desirée felt the heat of shame in her cheeks.
But another kind of heat was also flaming through her. Roman took no pains to be delicate in his public exploration. She squirmed as his hand searched through her bodice thoroughly. She could feel the key, cool against the underside of her left breast. To retrieve it, Roman would have to search lower. Obviously, he had no intentions of giving up his pursuit until he had what he wanted.
She moaned when his palm brushed her nipple. He smiled down at her and gave her a good pinch.
"Stop that!" she hissed. "I won't be humiliated this way!"
"Then you shouldn't put yourself in humiliating situations," he answered, continuing his search.
Desirée was near fainting with shame and longing before Roman's quest was satisfied. When he retrieved the key from her bodice and held it high for all to see, another great cheer rose from the mob. Quickly, he unlocked the cuffs, and Desirée all but collapsed in his arms.
"Should I haul her in, Doc?" Mooney asked, taking the handcuffs and key from Roman so that he had both hands free to better manage the woman.
"I think not. I'll be responsible for her."
"Well, just so's she don't pull no more stunts like this."
"She won't!" Roman assured the officer as he turned to leave, leading Desirée toward his buggy. "Oh, Mooney!"
"Yes, Doc?"
"I'd like to keep those handcuffs. If she gets out of line, I might have to use them."
The crowd yelled lewd suggestions to Roman as to just how he might put the cuffs to the best use.
" _You!_ " Desirée hissed, her face scorched with shame. "You're an insufferable cad!"
"Quite right!" he answered flippantly. "Just the sort to see a woman of your caliber home."
As they were climbing into the buggy, Tom Anderson yelled, "Free drinks all around, lads!"
The crowd roared with approval.
Lulu White issued her own invitation. "We're open for business early, gentlemen, due to all this excitement."
Another cheer went up.
"So much for stamping out demon rum and prostitution!" Roman said to Desirée in a cold tone. "You've turned this day into an unauthorized holiday, my dear. Thanks to you, everyone's sinning earlier, and you can bet they'll stay late."
The ride back to the Duplantiers' was sheer torture. Desirée had expected threats, accusations, lectures. But she received only Roman's stony silence.
There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much she wanted for him to say to her. Yet it was as if a vast distance separated them. She had no way of knowing that Roman remained silent, trying to fight the demons of passion her latest escapade had aroused within him.
As tired and disillusioned as he was, his driving urge at the moment was to take her straight to his house, send Jules away for the rest of the day, and use those handcuffs. Of course, he couldn't guess that in her present state Desirée would have welcomed such bold action.
###
# Chapter Ten
Placide Duplantier was waiting out front, pacing the veranda, when Roman and Desirée pulled into the drive. One glance at his face sent a shiver down Desirée's spine. She had never seen her cousin look so angry. Roman sized up the situation immediately.
"I'd better go in with you," he said.
In spite of the fact that she was furious with Roman for his treatment of her a short time earlier, she nodded her agreement. Somehow, Placide knew what had transpired in Basin Street, and obviously he was not pleased. At least she would not have to face him alone.
The lecture Roman had withheld on the ride home came from Placide the moment they were inside the house. He bothered with no cordial formalities before he launched into his tirade.
"You cannot begin to imagine my embarrassment, Cousin Desirée, when Yves L'Enfant came into the bank and told me about your escapade this afternoon." Placide's handsome face was distorted with outrage.
When Desirée sank into a chair and sighed, " _Him_ again?" she only added fuel to the fire.
"L'Enfant has his finger on the very pulse of Storyville," Placide continued. "Nothing goes on there that he doesn't know about. It happened that he was in the crowd when you handcuffed yourself to the Arlington's stairs. Honestly, Desirée, have you any idea how you have humiliated me? I have a reputation at the bank and here in New Orleans to uphold. I cannot put up with this sort of outrageous behavior. If you have no concern for my feelings, you might at least think of poor Nanine."
Desirée cast an apologetic glance toward the woman, who was huddled in a chair in the far corner of the parlor, dabbing at her eyes and periodically blowing her nose. Desirée felt some remorse at the sight of her. Nanine had always suffered terribly from the least upset.
"I'm truly sorry, Placide, Nanine," Desirée said softly.
"For the spectacle you made of yourself?" her glowering cousin demanded.
Now, it was Desirée's turn to flare into a rage. " _No!_ " she cried. "I'm not the least bit sorry for what I did. I'm only sorry that I've embarrassed the two of you. I would chain myself to that banister again in a moment, if I thought it would help those poor women in the district."
Placide swung around toward his wife, his ire directed at her now. "There! You see, Nanine! I told you she would not feel the tiniest morsel of regret. That's what higher education does for a woman!"
Desirée, on her feet now, strode over to face Placide. "Why should I be sorry for doing what is right?"
" _Right?_ " Placide shrilled back at her. "You don't have the smallest notion of what's right or wrong for those women. You have absolutely nothing in common with them. You know nothing about them. Why, you might as well be lending what you consider aid to beings from another planet. Desirée, you are meddling in what does not concern you. And you're making all of us pay for your foolishness. As long as you are living under my roof, I won't stand for it! I forbid you to carry this crusade any further!"
Desirée whirled toward the stairs, calling back over her shoulder, "Very well! I'll pack my things and leave."
Nanine wailed loudly. Roman hurried after Desirée, catching her arm.
"I think you need to cool off a bit and consider this matter more carefully," he said quietly. "Remember, Desirée, this is old Creole society you're tampering with. You must have known that Placide would be furious and humiliated when he heard what happened. Creole ladies simply don't do such things!"
She jerked her arm away. "Well, maybe I'm not a _lady_!" she spat at him.
Roman's eyes had gone dark with anger and something else. Desirée had difficulty reading his feelings. When he answered her, his voice was chilly. "Maybe you aren't after all, Desirée La Fleur. Maybe Placide isn't the only one who's been mistaken about you."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" she shot at him.
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned down close to her ear so that only she would hear his words. "I know for a fact that Garnet is jealous of you. Could it be that that works both ways? Perhaps you'd like to try your hand at whoring, Desirée. All those men. All that attention. I've met other respectable women who claimed to crave just that kind of excitement in their lives. Perhaps you imagine a sort of romance in the life Garnet and the others lead. Is that it, Desirée? You don't have the courage to try it yourself, so you want the whole district shut down?"
"How dare you?" Desirée drew back her hand to slap his face, but stopped. She would not dignify such a statement with that sort of response. She could hardly believe what she had just heard. How could Roman even imagine such a horrible thing of her? She was a _lady_ , born and bred! Physical love, even between a husband and wife, as she had been taught, was a thing to be endured, not enjoyed. A sudden shudder ran through her. Had she given Roman such ideas by her willing responses to him?
She turned her face away, ashamed to let him look at her. Here stood the man she loved, accusing her of lusting after other men. It was too much to bear!
Desirée hurried up the stairs, trying to keep the tears from flowing until she was away from them. She turned at the landing and called down to Placide, "I'll stay here only until I can find lodgings elsewhere. By the end of the week, you will be unburdened. I promise!"
"Desiree, don't act like a fool!" She might have expected that from Placide, but to hear the words from Roman stirred up a maelstrom of hurt and anger.
She would show him! She would show them all!
Then and there she decided to accept Garnet's invitation to visit Mahogany Hall during business hours. She needed to see the place in action for herself. A rueful smile curved her lips. What would they think of that? She didn't care. It didn't matter in the least. No one told Desirée La Fleur what she could or could not do!
All the next day she spent trudging the streets of New Orleans, searching for a decent place to let. But the only rooms she found were dirty hovels in the French Quarter with reprobates for neighbors. As the hot day wore on, Desirée became more and more discouraged.
By that night, when Desirée arrived at Mahogany Hall, her spirits were lower than ever. Roman had not even rung her up on the telephone all day. She mounted the stairs at 235 Basin Street feeling jittery, anxious, and depressed.
Garnet herself answered the knock. "Well, you _did_ come! You've got more spunk than I figured you for, sweetie."
"I told you I would be here. I always keep my appointments, Garnet."
Garnet, clad in her green and black striped stockings and a short plum-colored gown that plunged nearly to her navel, howled with laughter. "You'd make a good whore then, Desirée!"
Desirée winced at Garnet's words.
"Hey, girls, we've got company!" Garnet called.
Suddenly, they were surrounded by a dozen vividly painted and garishly dressed young women, all talking at once. Garnet led the way to the dining room where they sat down to listen to Desirée's questions and provide answers for the _Mascot_ 's readers. Lulu White—her bright blue eyes a shocking contrast to her cinnamon-colored skin—presided at the head of the massive, mahogany table. She claimed to be West Indian, but earlier Roman had filled Desirée in on the madam's true background. She was really from a poor family in Alabama. Desirée wondered how many of the women—if any—were telling her the truth.
After an hour or so, the girls began to rise and drift away. It seemed the interview was over. She had enough notes for several interesting articles, but still she felt there was far more to be learned from and about these women.
"Soon be time for the customers to arrive," Garnet told her.
"Oh, I had hoped to see upstairs before I leave." Desirée's disappointment was plain in her voice.
"I reckon we can arrange that. Come on. I'll show you my room."
Garnet led Desirée, not to the wide mahogany staircase, but to the newly installed elevator that held two people. The thing was a marvel to Desirée, the first she'd ever seen. Her stomach lurched as the tiny moving room soared upward.
When they reached the second floor, Garnet led her down the hall and opened one of the doors. "This one's mine. Best in the house!" she said proudly.
Desirée didn't know what she'd expected, perhaps a dusty cubicle with a thin mattress on the floor. At any rate, the bedroom was a pleasant surprise—polished wood floors, a huge bed with a lace counterpane, doilies on the table and dresser, and paintings on the walls. Except for the tall mirrors at the head and foot of the bed, the room looked like any boudoir in a respectable home.
"Why, this is _very_ nice, Garnet!"
"Mahogany Hall's a class joint! Nothing but the best for Lulu's girls and their customers." Garnet's face lit suddenly with a sly smile. "Hey, how'd you like the best story ever?"
Desirée began sidling toward the door, a prickling of dread squirming along her spine. She had no idea what Garnet was thinking, but she knew she would not like hearing it.
"See that Chinese screen over in the corner?" Desirée glanced toward the screen, but said nothing. "You could hide back there and watch for a while."
Desirée felt all the blood drain from her face. Her head, light already after the elevator ride, began to spin. "You can't mean... ?"
"Sure! Why not? Won't bother me none and what my tricks don't know can't hurt 'em."
"Oh, I couldn't! I never..."
Desirée stumbled backward and nearly fell. Garnet rushed to catch her arm.
"Hey, are you all right? You look mighty green around the gills, sweetie."
Desirée was fighting the black and silver spots swimming before her eyes. She hadn't eaten all day. She was beginning to feel it for the first time.
"Just a bit dizzy," she answered unsteadily.
"Sit down here," Garnet ordered. "I'll get you something to drink. Put your head down till you feel better. Roman taught me that. It works, too. You stay right there. I won't be a minute."
Garnet's mention of Roman brought on another wave of swirling emotions and taxing weakness. Desirée moaned softly and rested her head on her knees, willing the bright spots to vanish.
A moment later, Garnet returned with a hooker of gin, which she held to Desirée's lips. Thinking it water, Desirée downed it quickly, then coughed and sputtered.
"What was that?" she demanded.
Garnet grinned, remembering suddenly that Desirée was violently opposed to strong drink. "Just some medicine Lulu gives us when we ain't feeling too pert. It's helping already, I can tell. Your color's better."
Desirée shook her head. It was clearing. She felt warmth creeping through her, and her throat had stopped burning. "I'd better be going now. Thank you for everything, Garnet."
But when she tried to rise, her knees gave way under her.
"Whoa, there! You'd best sit a minute longer," Garnet cautioned. "There ain't no rush."
"I must go before your gentleman callers come. Besides, I need to get home. Roman might call."
Desirée said the worst thing she could have. Garnet had begun to feel rather maternal toward the innocent Desirée. But her mention of Roman canceled all warmth between them as far as the young prostitute was concerned.
"You think he's going to marry you, don't you?" Garnet said.
Desirée looked up, shocked at her spiteful tone. "Why, no! I mean I hadn't given it much thought one way or the other."
" _You_ wouldn't! Miss fine High-and-Mighty! You can have any man you want. All I ever wanted was Roman. I'd treat him real good, and he'd be happy. But he don't even look my way now that you're here. He used to tell me I was pretty and sweet and all that stuff. But, shoot, now he's got you. Look at the two of us in that mirror. You're everything I am and lily-white pure besides! If you hadn't come along, I might of got him for myself. You spoiled _everything!_ "
"Garnet, I promise you, there's nothing between us." Desirée lowered her head again and murmured, "I only wish there were!"
"Well, I don't believe you!"
Desirée was feeling sick and dizzy again. "Please, Garnet, I don't want to argue with you. I only wanted to be your friend. I thought I might be able to help you."
"I don't need _your_ help! I reckon I'm doin' just fine, thank you!"
The words were not coming easily, still Desirée kept talking, hoping she could win Garnet over to her way of thinking. "But wouldn't you like to lead a _normal_ life?"
"What's _normal_?" Garnet snapped back at her.
A pained laugh escaped Desirée's throat. "I suppose you have me there. I have no answer for you."
Garnet's mind was whirling. Everything she'd said to Desirée was true, she decided. If Desirée hadn't come along when she did, Garnet might have won Roman for herself. But now there was this pretty young thing who looked just like her and was innocent through and through. What if she evened up the odds just a bit? A wonderfully wicked idea flashed through Garnet's mind.
"So, you're saying you want us to be friends, is that it, Desirée?"
"Yes, Garnet! I want to be your friend." Desirée couldn't imagine why she still felt so lightheaded. That must have been potent medicine, indeed.
"Fine!" Garnet replied. "Let's drink to our friendship." She reached to the bureau and took down a bottle of Raleigh Rye and two tumblers.
Suddenly, the gin she'd drunk rushed to Desirée's tongue. "Demon rum!" she cried. "How can you even suggest that I befoul my body with the devil's brew?"
Garnet stood over her, her hands on her hips and an angry scowl on her face. "Hey, listen, sister, if you ain't tried it, don't knock it!"
"Never have strong spirits passed these lips!" Desirée cried, flinging an arm out as if she meant to dash the bottle from Garnet's hand.
Garnet only chuckled and drew the bottle out of smashing range. "That's what you think, sweetie," she mumbled under her breath. Aloud she said, "How can you condemn something you never even tried? That ain't the way I was brought up. I was taught to give every living thing a fair chance. And that goes for drinking, too. I _dare_ you to down one with me, Desirée La Fleur. If you still say after trying it that it's 'devil's brew,' then I'll swear off, too. Cross my heart!"
"You promise?" Desirée asked suspiciously.
Instead of crossing her heart, Garnet crossed her fingers behind her back. She did enjoy her rye. "I promise!"
Desirée sat up straighter and tried to focus her eyes. Odd how heavy her lids felt—her whole body. But her brain was only a little fuzzy. If, by taking one drink, she could free Garnet from her life of sin, it would certainly be a shining star in her heavenly crown.
"Pour!" Desirée commanded.
And Garnet did! A full water glass. Solemnly, she handed it to Desirée and instructed, "Drink it down fast now, like you do medicine. That way it won't make you drunk."
Desirée gripped the tumbler with both hands, put it to her lips, and downed it in four gulps. She came up gasping and choking. "I can't breathe!" she wheezed.
Garnet refilled the glass. "Drink a little more. It'll settle your stomach."
It settled more than that. By the time she'd finished the second glass of rye, topping off the gin in her empty stomach, Desirée knew only that the room was spinning around her.
"Here, let me help you to the bed," Garnet offered, grinning from ear to ear. "You just lie down for a bit and you'll be fine."
The moment her head touched the pillow, Desirée drifted off into a strange, floating world of mirrors and rooms that moved up and down and painted faces with smiling red mouths.
Garnet worked quickly. First, she took the pins from Desirée's chignon and spread her hair out over the pillows. She brightened her pale lips and cheeks with rouge. She removed the tight jacket of Desirée's suit and loosened her blouse until a rise of creamy flesh was visible.
"There, sweetie!" Garnet said to her semiconscious victim. "Let's just see which one of us Roman wants once you and I are both sisters of sin!"
The name penetrated Desirée's consciousness. Her arms came up as if reaching out for someone, and she murmured, "Roman, Roman, where are you?"
Garnet slipped out of the room and hurried downstairs. The parlors were crowded with customers. Several of the men spotted her and smiled, beckoning to their favorite. She glanced about, choosing carefully. It had to be someone she trusted. The high-placed politician? The Creole businessman? Or Yves L'Enfant? He'd just come in the door and had spotted her immediately. No, L'Enfant had treated her badly last time. She refused to have anything to do with him tonight.
Garnet made her way slowly into the parlor of mirrors and sidled up to the politician.
"Sully darlin', it's been a long time."
He drew her close, letting one big hand brush the side of her breast. "Too long," he whispered, his neat salt-and-pepper beard tickling her cheek. "I was hoping I'd see you tonight. I have a surprise for you, Garnet." He reached into the breast pocket of his expensively tailored suit and drew out a jewel box.
Garnet opened it to find a glittering diamond necklace. She clutched it to her breasts. Going up on tiptoe, she kissed his mouth, then whispered, "And I have a surprise for you, Sully. Come with me."
Commissioner Sullivan was perfect, a truly sweet man who was always nice to her. He often brought her special presents. Now she could give him something in return.
As Garnet led her trick toward the stairs, Yves L'Enfant approached and tried to grip her arm. "Garnet, I need to talk to you."
"Sorry, I have a _gentleman_ to entertain tonight!"
"I wouldn't bother the lady, if I were you," Sullivan warned, and L'Enfant broke off.
Garnet and Commissioner Sullivan hurried past the scowling L'Enfant and up the stairs. When she opened the door, her tall, handsome customer caught his breath.
"Here's your surprise, Sully. Two for the price of one!"
The man strode to the side of the bed and stared down. He looked from Desirée to Garnet and back to Desirée again.
"This is uncanny," he breathed. "Why, you're identical! I've often fantasized about such things, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that there could be two such lovely creatures as you, Garnet, or that I might have them both!"
Garnet came to Sully and slid her arms seductively about his waist, loosening his belt. "Well, Sully darlin', this is no dream. It's the real, honest-to-God thing!"
Commissioner Sullivan, dazed at his good fortune and already feeling his arousal, reached out and stroked Desirée's soft cheek. She sighed and clutched his hand, bringing it to her lips. "Roman! Oh, Roman!" she whispered.
Desirée's arms slipped up around Commissioner Sullivan's neck, drawing him down to her. Her eyes were closed, but her hazy mind saw storm-blue eyes and Roman's parted lips. Warmth and longing flowed through her. She writhed upon the bed, begging silently for what he had to give.
Neither the commissioner nor Desirée felt the bed sag as Garnet joined them for this carefully planned _menage à trois_. Garnet, purring softly into Sully's ear, began undressing him. Then they both set to disrobing Desirée, finally draping the diamond necklace about her creamy throat so that they could both admire it.
Commissioner Sullivan freed Desirée's breasts and knelt over her, staring down in admiring awe. For just an instant Desirée came around enough to sense what was happening. She glimpsed a strange room, an unfamiliar bed, a nameless stranger leaning over her, caressing her bare breasts. The soft laughter of another woman, which seemed to come from a distance, filled the air. This is all wrong! She must get away!
She tried to rise—panic filling her throat with bile. Then it seemed as if she were reliving a nightmare—the night when Maum Goldie had tried to take her away from Belle Fleur. Suddenly, it felt like a great force were crushing her chest. She could neither speak nor move. She was paralyzed with fear and pain. Breathing came hard. Finally, blackness closed around her.
"She's drunk. Come do me first," Garnet invited with outstretched arms.
None of the three in the bed heard the ruckus going on below.
###
# Chapter Eleven
Yves L'Enfant started up the stairs after Garnet, angrily bent on disrupting her evening with Commissioner Sullivan. That Irish sport was a particular enemy of his. An honest politician in New Orleans, imagine! No wonder the man had lost his recent bid for reelection. But the noisy commotion at the front door distracted him.
Halfway up the stairs, he turned. "What the hell?"
"One of my girls saw her come in here with her own eyes, Lulu! She just told me so. So don't you go trying to pull nothin' on me!"
L'Enfant spotted Josie Arlington at the very center of the melee. The last time he'd seen her look this angry was during her ferocious encounter with her competitor, Beulah Ripley, on Burgundy Street. In the course of that street brawl, Beulah had pulled out most of Josie's hair. In retaliation, Josie had bitten off half of one of her dark combatant's ears and a good portion of Beulah's lower lip. At the moment, Josie Arlington looked mad enough to do even more damage to Lulu White.
L'Enfant forgot all about his annoyance with Garnet and moved closer to the knot of people in the hallway. The house bully was trying to break things up, but neither Josie nor Lulu seemed willing to give an inch.
"You stole my new girl!" Josie yelled.
"I did not! I ain't never had to steal from another house in my life!" Lulu screamed at the other woman. "Besides, I run a honest place. I wouldn't take no white girl in."
"Oh, yeah?" Josie's eyes flared wide in fury, and she leaned forward, almost nose to nose with Lulu White. "What about Garnet? I've heard the tales about that one. She ain't no trick baby from the cribs. She's some fancy planter's daughter just passing for a octoroon gal. You're breaking the law just having her here!"
"That's a goddamn lie!" Lulu screamed, going for Josie's hair.
A moment later, the two madams were rolling and tumbling on the floor, feathers and hair flying, and screams of fury and pain filling the air. Several of the girls leaped into the fray, and a few of the customers got involved when they tried to break up the brawl. Before long, the battle spilled out onto the front steps and down into the street. Police sirens wailed. There was a mad frenzy inside the house as prominent businessmen, politicians, and Creole gentlemen alike all scrambled to pull on their trousers to escape before the inevitable raid.
Yves L'Enfant watched for a while, then hurried up the stairs. Now he had a legitimate excuse for busting in on Garnet. He would "warn" Commissioner Sullivan of his impending arrest, if he didn't flee immediately. L'Enfant chuckled at the thought. And then, of course, Garnet would be sure to show him the full measure of her gratitude.
But when L'Enfant eased the door open, he froze. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. There on the big bed lay the naked politician and _two_ partially clothed women. At the moment, the man was showering most of his attentions on Garnet, while he fondled the breast of the other woman, who appeared to be sound asleep. He'd never known Garnet to engage in combinations or circuses. She knew enough erotic tricks to go it alone. But this novel trio both astonished and excited him. If it weren't for the impending raid, he would join them on the spot. The bed was certainly large enough to accommodate four.
Suddenly, the sleeping woman turned and he saw her face. He caught his breath. "My God! It's _her_!"
A dozen diverse thoughts assaulted his brain. He'd heard that Roman St. Vincent was seriously involved with Desirée La Fleur. But Josie Arlington's words came back to mind. She'd stormed Mahogany Hall looking for one of her own girls! Could it be that Roman's ladylove had decided to give her look-alike's profession a try? He smiled. How pleasant a thought!
Running feet and shouts from below made him leave off his musing. He had to get her out of here. Fast! Otherwise, Desirée would wind up in the calaboose with the rest of them. She'd certainly be no good to him there. He could smuggle her out the back way. Afterward, he was sure she would be most grateful for the rescue. Yes, this was going to be an interesting evening!
He opened the door all the way and hurried in.
Garnet shot up in bed, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. "What the hell are you doin' in here? Get out!"
"No time for explanations," L'Enfant answered. "Any minute now this place is going to be crawling with police. Unless your high-toned boyfriend wants to spend the night in jail, he'd better get his pants on fast! I'll take care of her."
Sullivan was out of bed immediately, pulling on his clothes and muttering apologies to Garnet for his hasty departure.
L'Enfant scooped up Desirée in his arms and headed out the door with her.
"Hey, where are you taking her?" Garnet yelled after him. But L'Enfant didn't answer.
Desirée was dead weight in his arms. She still seemed to be sleeping. He tried to wake her, but she only mumbled incoherently in response.
"Damn!" he cursed as he hauled her down the servants' stairs at the back of the house. "This one could sleep through her own climax!"
When they reached the alley behind Mahogany Hall it began to storm. L'Enfant felt the big, heavy drops sting his face and soak through his clothes to his skin. He stumbled on the rough ground, unable to see for the rain and the hair in his eyes. Finally, when he was a block away from Lulu White's besieged pleasure palace, he stopped and tried to stand Desirée on her feet. She slumped to the ground like a sack of meal.
After catching his breath, he hoisted her over his shoulder and trudged on, heading for the townhouse he rented on Canal Street. It was a great relief to finally unburden himself when he reached home. He placed Desirée on a sofa in the front parlor and went for the brandy decanter. Whatever was wrong with her, a stiff drink was sure to help.
For more than an hour, he tried to bring her around, feeding her sips of brandy all the while and taking a few nips himself. But nothing helped.
He fingered the necklace at her throat. Undoubtedly, this was payment for her evening's work. Sullivan was a big tipper. He considered helping himself to her charms as she lay unconscious and defenseless, but what kind of a challenge was that? No! When Yves L'Enfant made love to a woman, he meant for her to know it!
Still, it did arouse him to stroke her breasts, taste them, feel her heartbeat speed in automatic response.
He studied Desirée carefully. Except for the rouge on her cheeks, she was unnaturally pale. She was clad only in her petticoats, corset cover, and the necklace. No pantalettes, stockings, or shoes. Obviously, he decided, Sullivan had taken his pleasure with Desirée before turning to Garnet. If this had been her first time, she might have gone into a swoon. He'd seen it happen before. Or maybe they'd drugged her, forced her against her will. That thought excited him further.
Still, he was beginning to get worried. Why didn't she wake up? Maybe she was seriously ill. What if she died in his house? He'd certainly have his hands full explaining that one.
He made up his mind quickly. Going to the telephone, he started to give the hello boy Roman St. Vincent's number, then changed his mind. How would he go about explaining why he had brought Desirée here? Roman might think that _he_ had drugged her, then taken advantage of her.
Closing Desirée's bodice and draping one of his own cloaks about her, he carried her out to the carriage house. Moments later, they were headed for St. Vincent's house on Esplanade.
Roman paced the floor and watched the clock. It was nearing midnight now, and Desirée was still unaccounted for. Nanine had called earlier, saying she'd sent Placide out in the storm to search. But at last call, there was still no sign of her.
He himself had been to the hospitals and even to the morgue. He'd had a severe shock when he was told by one of his colleagues that a young woman fitting Desirée's _or_ Garnet's description had been brought in early in the evening with her throat cut and her body badly mutilated.
While he'd waited in the silent, tomblike chamber that smelled of cold and death and hopelessness, his mind had darted in a million directions. The attendant seemed to take forever wheeling out the corpse. By the time the man arrived with the shrouded remains, Roman had realized how very much he loved Desirée, and how very protective he felt toward Garnet. Now, it just might be too late to let one or the other of them know his feelings.
He had suddenly imagined the worst. As the white-coated attendant pulled away the sheet to reveal dark hair, the very color, Roman had closed his eyes and offered up a prayer, knowing even as he silently voiced his plea that it was useless. This poor young woman was dead. No matter who she was, she would never love nor be loved again.
After steeling himself and taking a deep breath, Roman had forced his eyes open. He had to know. A grisly sight lay before him. But, although the woman's body had been horribly carved up, the murderer had spared her pretty, heart-shaped face—a face Roman St. Vincent had never seen before in his life. Even as a wave of relief rushed through him, numbing his senses, he had sworn that he would waste no more time. He would find Desirée, and he would marry her.
_Damn their idiotic pact!_
He'd hurried home to change into dry clothes before resuming his search. He was just on his way out again when the door knocker banged. He dashed to open it. There stood Yves L'Enfant, drenched and huffing, with Desirée in his arms. Roman could hardly believe his eyes or the release of pent up emotions he experienced in that split second.
"Thank God!" he breathed, ushering the other man in. "Where did you find her?"
"Never mind that now, Roman. I think you'd better take a look at her. Something's wrong! She's been unconscious for a couple of hours."
New fear gripped Roman, but he fought to maintain control. He was a doctor, after all, and at this moment Desirée was his patient—no more, no less. He must not allow his emotions to play any part in this. She needed his help.
"Bring her into my bedroom. Hurry, man!"
L'Enfant did as his friend ordered. When she was laid out properly, he stood back to allow the doctor room for his examination.
Roman could hardly believe the state she was in. There was no mistaking that she was dead drunk. She reeked of alcohol. But how could that be? Obviously, someone had forced it down her throat. And that necklace—where had it come from? She owned no expensive jewelry. His uneasiness grew to deep dread, and Roman turned a suspicious gaze on the other man.
"Where did you find her? I want the truth, L'Enfant! I mean it!"
"You won't believe me," Yves answered miserably. "I could hardly believe it myself."
"Well, try me anyway!"
"She was at Mahogany Hall... in Garnet's room. In her bed, in fact." L'Enfant assured himself smugly that he wasn't lying. He had, after all, found her there.
Roman came at L'Enfant with his fingers clenched for strangling, the gleam of murder in his blue-black eyes. "In bed with _whom_? I don't think you even need answer that, do you? I can guess. You've wanted her from that first day."
Yves L'Enfant hadn't expected Roman to take the news calmly, but he hadn't expected an attack, either. In his rush to get away from the crazed doctor, he overturned a chair and crashed into the wall.
Shielding his face with his hands, L'Enfant cried, "For God's sake, Roman! It's not what you're thinking! I swear, I never touched her! I got her out of there in the nick of time!"
Roman was not easily soothed. "You're sure?"
L'Enfant eyed Roman anxiously. If he'd reacted so violently to the first bit of news, how would he take the rest of the facts?
He backed away from Roman, holding his hands in front of him for protection. "Easy now, man. I haven't hurt your lady. If you want me to tell you the rest, you've got to promise to stay calm."
Roman, who was standing beside the bed, holding Desirée's limp hand, made an angry sound in his throat. "Speak your piece. Then we'll see how calm I remain. You got her out of Mahogany Hall in the nick of time, you said. Then what?"
"Actually," L'Enfant began uneasily, "when I said 'the nick of time,' I was referring to the raid. I saved her from that. But I'm afraid I was too late to save her from..."
Roman's eyes blazed. He squeezed Desirée's hand unconsciously, so tightly that she moaned and twisted.
To protect himself from further bodily harm, L'Enfant confessed the whole story, all except the part about taking Desirée to his house. After all, nothing that amounted to anything had happened there. So why make himself look bad?
After hearing the entire tale, Roman slumped down on the side of the bed, stroking Desirée's sweat-beaded forehead. All he could think was that this was all his fault. He had accused her so unjustly. He should have known that a woman of her fiery temperament would strike back. He might as well have taken her to Mahogany Hall himself. Certainly, his actions and words had driven her there. He was no better than the lowest pimp in the district. It was as bad if not worse than what he had done to Courtney. He stared down at Desirée's still face, trying to sort out in his mind what he should do next. The cold, hard glitter of the diamond necklace mocked him—a whore's gift from her john.
Roman turned to L'Enfant in one last desperate plea. "He took her? You're sure of it?"
L'Enfant shrugged and nodded. "They had completed the act only minutes before I entered the room. What more can I tell you? The man was spent, and Desirée was lying there in a faint on the bed."
"Goddammit!" Roman moaned. "This is all my fault!"
"Hardly, Roman, when you weren't even there!" L'Enfant replied caustically.
Roman only glared at him. He started to ask who the man was, but decided quickly that he didn't want to know. He had made up his mind what he must do. It was the only honorable course to take. Honorable be damned, he told himself. He wanted her, even if she had been with another man. And if he waited for Desirée to come back to her senses, she would likely refuse him.
"Go for a priest, L'Enfant!"
"A _priest_? Man, have you lost your wits? She's had a rough night, I'll grant you. But women don't die from that!"
"I don't plan to bury her, L'Enfant. I'm going to marry her!" Roman's voice was hard, cold, determined. "Now, hurry! Bring a priest!"
While Roman waited for the hour of his marriage, he phoned the Duplantier house to assure Nanine and Placide that Desirée was all right. She'd had a serious fall, though, he fabricated, and he wanted to keep an eye on her overnight, he told them, being careful to omit details. "Nasty bump on the noggin, but she'll be fine, I'm sure!" He requested that Nanine send a change of clothes over. "Soaked through, her others are." And then he rang off, having set their minds at ease without arousing too much suspicion.
Those details taken care of, it was time to prepare for his marriage.
It was a strange wedding, with the bride propped up between the two men—bridegroom and groomsman. Desirée, still in a state of combined shock and drunkenness, was beyond speaking her vows. But Roman assured the priest that she was willing. Roman's reputation was such in New Orleans that the good father took his word for it. An hour after Yves L'Enfant carried Desirée into Roman's house, she was his wife, whether she knew it or not... whether she wants it or not, Roman told himself grimly.
L'Enfant and the priest departed together, leaving the bride and groom to themselves to spend what was left of their wedding night.
Desirée's mind floundered, drifting in and out of focus. She remembered odd bits and pieces of the evening—a strange man's hands and lips upon her, cold rain beating into her face, another man forcing more fiery liquid down her throat, and, finally, some sort of ceremony. She was sure she had seen a priest when her eyes fluttered open for an instant. Had she been at mass? Had she died and gone to heaven... or _hell_?
Now, someone was undressing her. Her body felt hot and heavy. As the damp clothes were peeled from her flesh, she shivered slightly and moaned. Her head was throbbing, a great swollen melon about to split wide open. She tried to open her eyes, but the pain was too severe. Finally, she gave up and simply let herself lie still. Someone else, it seemed, was in charge now. Better, she thought, to give up the fight and let this other person see to her fate.
As she lay on the warm, soft bed, drifting in and out of reality, she felt gentle hands on her naked flesh. She felt something cool placed over her eyes, soothing not only her pain but her need to see. She began to relax. Whoever was there with her knew exactly what to do. The dark sea about her calmed. Instead of tossing now she was drifting peacefully, made tranquil by the unseen hands of her ministering angel. She let herself go. All would be well. Somehow, she knew she was saved.
Roman was sorely tempted to take advantage of his new wife as she lay naked and helpless before his caressing eyes. She was obviously better now. She had stopped shivering, and she seemed to be sleeping peacefully, naturally.
Only one small gaslight flickered in the bedroom, but its thin light was enough to make her breasts gleam enticingly. He drew his fingertips down over her throat and chest, trailing them gently across one nipple. It puckered and rose, welcoming his touch. Roman leaned down to press her lips tenderly, then let his mouth follow the same route his fingers had traveled a moment before.
When he touched the velvety nipple with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth, Desirée let out a long sigh. His need for her grew with each moment. He let one hand slide between her thighs, testing the tender flesh. She clamped her legs together convulsively, trapping his hand, riding it gently.
Roman's heart was thundering. He reminded himself that Desirée was at best sleeping deeply, at worst still out of her head. Her responses were totally automatic, having nothing to do with the love of a wife for her husband. His blackest moment came when the thought struck him suddenly that her passionate reaction to his touch might have been fired by the man who had taken her earlier in the evening. Some of his own fire cooled at the thought. He drew his hand away and sat back staring down at her.
"You are so beautiful, Desirée," he whispered. "And I do love you. More than you know. More than you may ever know."
She stirred at the sound of his voice, but a small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Roman sighed resignedly and pulled the sheet up to cover his bride. Undressing quickly, he slid in beside her. If he couldn't make love to her, at least he could hold her close on their wedding night.
When warm, strong arms closed around her, Desirée moved gratefully toward the heat of Roman's body. At that moment, her troubled dreams fled. She felt secure and happy and sheltered. Sleep took her farther away than ever. But now she was nestled in a snug, lovely place.
Not until the light of dawn sent scarlet fingers probing into the room, did she awake to the horrible realization of what had happened to her during the night.
Before she even opened her eyes, she knew that she was naked, in bed, with a man. She remembered suddenly that she had been at Mahogany Hall, and she willed herself to die before she had to open her eyes and face the full, terrible truth.
The man was sleeping. She could tell by his heavy, even breathing. Gently, still with her eyes closed, she slipped out from under his arm. She eased herself to the far side of the bed and let her legs slide to the floor. When she was free of the bed and covers entirely, she finally opened her eyes expecting to see Garnet's room.
She gasped and clutched her hands over her bare breasts. The first sight she saw was the man's clothes, hurriedly shed, lying in a heap on the polished oak floor. This was not Garnet's room with its frilly doilies and bright pictures. No! She was in the man's bedroom! His silver comb and brushes lay on the heavy dresser. His shaving stand sat ready for his morning ablutions. Riding boots and crop... cane... top hat... spirits cabinet. Her eyes danced about wildly as she tried to deny the truth of the matter. But there was no denying anything.
Sometime during the night, she had been whisked away by a strange man to a strange bed. And by the looks of things, they had _not_ spent their time together sleeping. With a gasp of horror, she realized that her own clothes—part of them anyway—were piled beneath his. What a hurry they must have been in!
Scurrying from the bed on silent bare feet, Desirée grabbed his green satin dressing gown from the armoire and slipped into it. It was only then that she dared steal a glance at the man in the bed.
" _Roman!_ " she gasped, feeling a strange battle of emotions commence inside her.
Hearing his name, her voice, he sat up in bed, rubbing a hand through his tousled hair. "Good morning, Desirée. I trust you slept well."
She stood across the room, staring at him, unable to find her voice. She watched him stretch, letting the cover fall to his waist as he reached high above his head. A hot tingle ran through her as her eyes gazed at the thick hair on his chest, then slid down over his trim hips and hard, flat belly.
You must turn away! she told herself. But, of course, she didn't. She _couldn't_!
Finally, he pulled the sheet up again, and Desirée was able to find her voice, small as it was. "What am I doing here, Roman?"
He looked at her then with such tenderness and compassion that Desirée felt her knees giving way beneath her. Something in her stomach went all aflutter, and her heart beat wildly.
"Desirée darling," he said gently, "don't you remember _anything_ about last night? We're married!"
In shock, Desirée let her hand fall from the front of Roman's dressing gown, and it parted just enough to offer him an inviting glimpse of breasts, thighs, and the dark downy curls at their junction. He felt himself stiffen and adjusted the covers.
"Married?" It took Desirée a few moments to recover her voice. As for her senses, there was nothing she could do to put them to rights. She greeted his news with a mixture of shock, disbelief, pleasure, excitement, and anger.
She could remember nothing after going to Garnet's bedroom. Obviously, Roman knew and had been a part of whatever had transpired the rest of the night. But could she trust him to tell her the truth?
"I don't believe you!" She tossed her head with defiance, still unaware that the robe was gaping open.
"Well, my dear, after you're dressed, I'll summon the priest who performed the ceremony last night. I'll also call our witness, Yves L'Enfant. It's all quite legal and proper. You are Mrs. Roman St. Vincent in every way that counts." Save one! he almost added, but thought better of it.
Desirée collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her palms. "It can't be!" she mumbled.
Roman went suddenly numb, hearing such pain and disbelief in her voice. He had expected that it would take her some time to adjust to the idea. But he had hoped for more than out and out rejection.
He rose from the bed. Since she had on his dressing gown he strode over to her wearing nothing more than a worried frown. Reaching out to stroke her hair, he whispered, "Darling, is being my wife such a terrible fate?"
The gentleness in his voice eased some of her pain. She'd wanted to marry him, but not this way, not without knowing it had happened. Still, she should try to reassure him. Obviously, she must have agreed or they wouldn't be married.
Brushing the hair back from her face, she looked up at him through a veil of tears. But when she saw him standing there—naked, strong, and pulsing for her—she hid her face once more and began to cry in earnest.
"It can't be! It can't be! It _can't_ be!" She sobbed the words over and over, although Roman tried his best to console her.
Not until she had bathed and dressed and was at brunch in the spacious dining room of her new home, seated across the table from her new husband, did he tell her the whole sordid tale.
She was indeed Roman St. Vincent's wife!
###
# Chapter Twelve
The first weeks of marriage were strange, indeed, for Desirée. She still remembered only faint blurs of that one lost night. Roman, in his selective explanation the morning after, had told her that she had passed out in Garnet's room and that Yves L'Enfant, chancing to see her there, had whisked her away in the nick of time before the place was raided. L'Enfant had brought her straight to Roman, who had then made up his mind to marry her on the spot.
"But why all the haste?" she'd begged to know.
Roman had shied away from her direct gaze at this point. He wanted to tell her the real reason: that he loved her. But it was too soon. Instead, he'd answered quietly, "Because you've changed my mind about a lot of things. I _wanted_ to marry you. But, knowing your views on marriage, I was afraid you'd refuse me."
"You might have allowed me that option." She saw from his look that her accusing statement had wounded him, and she'd been immediately sorry. She hadn't meant to cause him pain.
She'd pondered his explanation for a time before quizzing him further. Something in what he'd said and the way he'd said it didn't ring true. There were things she remembered, nothing concrete, but bits and snatches. Her distorted memories were at odds with Roman's tale. She recalled a man... _two_ men. They had done things to her. Things that she didn't think she wanted to remember.
"Roman," she'd said at length, "are you sure you're telling me everything that happened? I have a feeling there's more."
He'd answered her with only a shake of his head.
She had to accept his version of that night since she had no memory of her own. She still found it hard to believe.
On the morning after, Desirée had naturally assumed that her new husband had made love to her sometime during those lost hours. When she thought hard about it, she regretted this loss most of all. She'd wanted Roman; she wanted him still. All that first day, as she nursed her hangover and adjusted to her new situation, her mind had wandered time and again to the big bed they had shared the night before. She was also thinking of the night to come—anticipating their love-making with a wild sort of joy and uncharacteristic abandon. Why, she was as nervous as if she were still an untried maiden!
What would it be like, she wondered, when Roman held her and kissed her and finally, when she was fully aroused and ready, entered her for the first time within her memory? The thought sent shivers of excitement, touched with a delicious fear, down her spine.
But after they had shared a quiet dinner, Roman told her, "I've had one of the maids make up the guest room for you, my dear. I'm sure you'll find it comfortable. If you need anything, you have only to pull the bell rope and Leda will come." Then he'd leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. Before she could work up the nerve to ask him why they must have separate chambers, Roman had picked up his medical bag and was gone.
That night and every night since then, Desirée had climbed into the broad, empty bed, feeling unwanted, unloved, and unmarried.
As soon as they recovered from their disappointment at not being permitted to give a huge wedding for the couple, Nanine and Placide had been delighted to hear the news of the marriage. In a quiet moment when the two women were alone, Desirée had tried to explain her odd marriage arrangement to her cousin's wife. But Nanine had only blushed furiously at the merest mention of beds and then quickly changed the subject. Desirée was left alone in her quandary to ache with need and wonder how she had failed her husband. Only her journal knew her deepest, most painful thoughts.
She still wore the diamond necklace—her wedding gift from Roman, she assumed—hoping that her display of sentiment would find favor with him.
Roman's problems were no less agonizing than Desirée's. He wanted her! _God_ , how he wanted her! But two things kept him from consummating his marriage. The first was his own guilt. He had taken advantage of Desirée, marrying her when she had no power to refuse him. He could still hear her saying on that dreadful morning after, "You might have allowed me that option." Yes, he not only might have, but _should_ have! His guilt ran deep and sure! That reason alone would have been cause enough for him to deny himself a husband's rights. But there was more.
The second reason gnawed at his very soul. Desirée obviously remembered more about Mahogany Hall than she was willing to admit. Otherwise, why did she keep wearing that damned necklace! She was only pouring salt into his wounds. He _knew_ she was not his virginal bride. And he could not stop thinking about the other man who had taken her that night. She never need know how he felt, and to save her feelings, he meant to carry that dark secret to his grave. Still, the deed had been done. The facts could neither be changed nor ignored. However, the very thought of his Desirée with another man wrenched his gut, making him hesitate even as he ached to possess her for the first time.
He hated himself for the way he felt, but it couldn't be helped. This was an ingrained part of his Creole heritage. Only an untried virgin could become a Creole wife, certainly not a woman who had been deflowered by a stranger in one of Storyville's bordellos and then chose to wear his payment like a badge of honor even after her marriage.
Try as he would to shove the thought from his mind, every time he looked at Desirée, at those glittering diamonds, he saw again the scene Yves L'Enfant had described. He did believe, though, that when it happened she had probably been out of her head with strong drink.
"It was not her fault!" he told himself repeatedly.
But there it was! The woman he loved had gone, of her own free will, to Mahogany Hall! And there she had allowed another man to usurp his rights as her husband! He simply could not bring himself to bed her. Perhaps he would never be able to. Maybe this was his punishment for having forced the marriage in the first place.
It was one of those steamy August afternoons in New Orleans when Desirée finally decided she had had enough of being the submissive, unloved Creole wife. In her present state, she was even beginning to imagine that when Roman went out every evening, he was going to his mistress in the white cottage. Well, she would not stand for that! It was time she took action.
Shy lay on her wide bed, naked, fanning her breasts with a palmetto frond. The shutters were closed against the strong afternoon sun, but golden streamers crept though the cracks to form bright stripes across her sweat-dewed body. She amused herself for awhile by moving her torso in a sensuous motion and watching the shining bands of light slip over her hips, belly, and breasts. It was almost as if she could feel the sunlight's warm caress. A little shiver of pleasure trembled through her.
Suddenly, she felt repulsed by her own erotic play. She dropped her fan and threw one arm over her eyes, blocking out the sight of her body. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing pulses.
"Why can't I think of anything else?" she moaned.
Roman! Always Roman! Alone in his big bed as she was in hers. This was not a marriage—it was a farce! Why had he married her if he did not want a real wife? She sat up on the side of the bed and stared at herself in the vanity mirror. With her hair all asunder and damp ringlets clinging to her forehead and cheeks, she looked almost wanton. But she had to admit that she was attractive, even by Creole standards. She smiled at herself. With a bit of work, she might even be considered _alluring_! Yes, that was it! The only way! Garnet had taught her a few tricks—"things that turn men on," as she'd said. Desirée would use them! She smiled, remembering how shocked she had been when Garnet confessed to rouging her nipples to please her men. Dare she do such a thing? She tossed her head in a moment of defiance. Whatever it took, Desirée meant to please her man tonight! Quickly, she pulled on a thin wrapper and yanked the tapestry bell rope to summon her maid.
A moment later, a head appeared at the door. "You rang, Madame?"
"Yes, Leda," she said to the dark-skinned woman. "Id like water for a bath, please. Bring those scented salts you offered me before. The gardenia, I believe." Something sultry and exotic! Desirée thought with a sly smile. "And get me the rouge pot."
The sweetly scented water felt cool and silky against Desirée's skin. She bathed herself lavishly with French soap, lingering in the bath until the bubbles died and the water went from tepid to cold. Climbing out, she toweled herself dry, then powdered until the rays of sunlight danced with tiny, silvery particles. Her final touches consisted of carefully placed dabs of perfume and rouge.
"Now! What to wear?" she asked herself.
Nanine had sent over all of her purchases from Maison Blanche. Desirée searched the cedar-lined armoire for the next tool of her seduction. Her eyes lit with golden sparks when she made her selection.
"Perfect! Absolutely perfect!" she crooned, waltzing about the room with the gown in her arms.
She had argued against this particular creation when Nanine had suggested she try it on. It was cut _so_ low! And the bodice was _so_ tight! But now she blessed her friend for insisting.
Roman would be home soon. Quickly, she slipped into the virginal white tissue silk with only a minimum of underclothing underneath. The fabric was shot through with silver threads, making her whole figure shimmer in the fading light of sunset. By candlelight at dinner she would glitter and gleam.
She had to call Leda back to help her with the buttons of the form-fitting bodice. Once the servant was gone, Desirée leaned forward, forcing her full breasts higher still. Her image in the mirror was shocking, but her cheeks flushed with pleasure. Yes, Roman would be hers tonight!
In the meantime, Roman had finally decided to confront Garnet with his suspicions. He had avoided Mahogany Hall, not wanting to hear the sordid details of that fateful evening, since he guessed the truth already.
In the late afternoon, Garnet and all the others were busy preparing for the night's business. He knocked several times at her door. She took her time answering. When she saw who it was, her smile of welcome turned into a deep scowl.
"Hello, Garnet," he said stiffly.
"Well, Doc! I thought you were dead or something. Ain't seen you in nearly a month. I guess my ma's all right?"
"I would have let you know if she weren't."
She made a great show of pulling on her striped stockings—pointing her toes and dragging the silk lazily up her legs. "Maybe you would and maybe you wouldn't. I hear you got better things to do these days than taking care of sick old whores."
"Like what?" he demanded.
"Like pleasuring that little wife of yours!" She cut an angry look at him.
"Desirée is the reason I'm here, Garnet," he confessed.
She rose slowly from the chair and slipped her arms around his neck. "Aw, poor Doc! Did she tell you she'd had enough? Did she send you over for Garnet to satisfy your itch?"
Roman removed her arms from his shoulders with more force than was necessary. "That's not it at all, Garnet! I want to know what happened that night she was here. You got her drunk, didn't you?"
She turned away from him and strolled across the room. "We had a few, sure! But, hell, I had more than she did, and it didn't do me no harm, Doc. So what's all the fuss about?"
Roman gripped her shoulder and jerked her around to face him. "You know very well what I'm talking about, Garnet! L'Enfant said he found her here in bed with you and a man. Why did you do it, Garnet? Why?"
She laughed. "I didn't do nothing! You know girls ain't for me, Doc. I didn't touch her."
"And the man she was with?" Roman was fuming, ready to explode.
Garnet grinned at him and twisted the edge of her shawl. "Oh, he liked it just fine—two gals for the price of one! What john wouldn't? And that little wife of yours, she seemed right anxious, too. You know how it is with some virgins. They just can't wait. I'll bet you're really enjoying life these days."
Garnet could tell by his face that her words stabbed him right through the heart She felt sorry for him suddenly. After all, he'd been good to her. But he had _married_ Desirée! Her urge to tell him the truth and relieve his pain passed quickly.
Roman, feeling weak and defeated, turned to leave. He couldn't blame Garnet for his misery. After all, Desirée had admitted coming to Mahogany Hall on her own. Garnet had only told him what he'd already guessed. Still, the truth hurt.
"Hey, Doc, I got a little time before Lulu opens." She smiled with invitation when he turned back toward her. "For you, it's free!"
He slammed the door, not bothering to answer her.
All the way home he tried to calm himself. But it was no use. At the moment he hated Garnet, Desirée, and most of all himself. The whole world was a disgusting cesspool, and he was trapped in it, drowning in its evil slime. For the first time in his life, he thought he understood why some people left by the quickest route possible.
Desirée was just fastening the clasp of her necklace when she heard footsteps on the veranda. She hurried to open the door, intent on giving her husband a proper welcome home. But the smile on her face and the "darling" on her lips faded the instant she saw Yves L'Enfant. He stood at the door—tall, slender, and scandalously handsome—smiling down at her and rubbing one corner of his trim mustache with his finger.
"Well, well! It seems marriage agrees with you, Madame St. Vincent," he said smoothly.
"It suits me well enough, sir." She could not keep the cutting tone out of her voice even though she knew that L'Enfant was her husband's friend. She detested the man!
Desirée kept one hand on the door, barring his entry. "May I come in?" he said, after several moments.
"Roman isn't home yet."
He took her hand and removed it from the door, then stepped into the dim hallway. His eyes did not once leave the vicinity of her low-cut bodice. Desirée was all too aware of his gaze, but she kept her head high and pretended a calm she was far from feeling.
Old Jules came shuffling into the hall just then. "Ah, Mr. L'Enfant! May I offer you a brandy?"
Desirée shot a warning look at the butler, but his dimming eyesight missed her meaning.
"I often stop by this time of the afternoon," L'Enfant explained to Desirée, "and Jules never fails to make me feel right at home. Shall we go into the library?"
L'Enfant offered his arm, but Desirée ignored the gesture and walked ahead. She must control her temper. So what if the man acted like the house belonged to him? That was the Creole way. She must honor her husband's wishes, and she was sure that Roman would have welcomed L'Enfant in for an afternoon brandy—the Creole gentleman's "water of life."
The library was a comfortable room—a man's room—with tall shelves lined with row upon row of leather-bound medical texts. Roman's massive oak desk dominated the chamber. His cozy clutter of papers added a homey atmosphere. Desirée realized that she was standing in a beam of rosy sunlight, her dress shimmering silver, and L'Enfant's eyes were glued to her. She quickly moved to the sofa on the shadowy side of the room and sat down.
L'Enfant took a seat in one of the wing chairs near her. He sat back, crossed his legs, and sipped from the snifter Jules had brought him. Still, his eyes remained on Desirée.
"Well, tell me, my dear, how do you find marriage? Really."
The nerve of the man! That was none of his business!
"Quite nicer than I had expected," she responded in a clipped tone.
He nodded, still smiling at her. "That's good. A great relief to me, actually."
He didn't elaborate. Desirée waited, but he said no more. What on earth did he mean? How dare he leave her dangling like this? Finally, she could stand it no longer.
"A relief? I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. L'Enfant."
He reached over and squeezed her hand before she could jerk it away. "Do call me Yves, my dear Desirée. Roman and I are such old friends. Why, he always says we're practically family!"
She ignored him and said, "I believe you were going to explain...."
L'Enfant's dark eyebrows drew down and he offered her a mock frown, as if she were a naughty child whom he might have to scold. "Now, Desirée, I'm sure you don't want to talk about it. If all is well between you and Roman, there's no need ever to discuss it again. Why even think about it?"
Frustration built up inside her. "Think about _what_?" she demanded.
He took another sip of brandy, then sighed resignedly. "You know I'm referring to that dreadful night, my dear. Surely, you don't want to discuss what happened?"
A prickling of dread warned Desirée that she should drop the subject. Obviously, Yves L'Enfant had come here to make trouble. Perhaps he had even known before arriving that Roman was not home. "If you've finished your brandy, Mr. L'Enfant, I think you'd better go. I doubt Roman would think it quite proper that you stayed here after knowing that he was not yet home." Desirée was on her feet, gesturing to the door.
L'Enfant grabbed one of her hands, forcing her to sit again. "Now, now, Desirée! Don't get feisty with _me_! After all, I'm the one who saved you, remember?"
"No, I don't remember!" she cried. "And I think it's in terribly poor taste for you to bring up events that I have no knowledge of. Why, it's as if you're laughing at me to my face."
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it slowly and soundly before releasing his grasp. Desirée's face was flaming.
"As I said before, I think you'd better go! I'll call Jules."
He only smiled. "No, I don't think you'll do that. If you can't remember what happened at Mahogany Hall, surely you must be curious. You have a right to know, after all."
Desirée looked down at her hands, clenched in her lap. She did want to know. She dreaded hearing it, but she _had_ to know!
Her silence encouraged L'Enfant. "It's as I guessed then. You do want to hear what I have to say. Perhaps you suspect what happened to you already. I'm sure the truth can be no more terrible than you have imagined, my dear. Take heart!"
Desirée sat on the sofa, unable to look at him as Yves L'Enfant told her his embroidered tale of finding her drunk and in bed with Garnet and a man, who was pleasuring both of them. According to him, all three were unclothed—"not a stitch amongst you," as he put it—and "My dear Desirée, by the time I arrived on the scene, I could save you from jail, however, your innocence was past salvation, I'm afraid."
Desirée felt a sudden wave of nausea as he finished. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she fled the room. Tears were streaming from her eyes when she ran into her bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her. She dashed to the chamber pot and retched, then fell to the bed, sobbing.
So, that was the reason Roman had not made love to her. How could she blame him? He had married her, not for love, but to save her reputation. As for that first night, she knew now that he had not consummated their marriage at all. Perhaps he had meant to, but how could he bed his bride when she had lain with another man only hours before?
For a long time, after she had cried herself out, she lay across the bed feeling weak and used up. What was she going to do? She and Roman were both trapped in a horrible situation. Why had he done such a foolish thing as marry her? She had gotten herself into this mess, and she deserved to face the consequences all alone.
With sudden, grim determination, she sat up. She knew exactly what she would do! She would insist that their sham of a marriage be annulled. Roman was a reasonable man. Surely, he would agree. She would leave New Orleans and never return. She would go back north. She could teach. She could work for reform. But one thing she was certain of, she would never marry again!
Feeling more in control, Desirée washed her face, brushed her hair, and prepared to meet her husband. While she waited for Roman to arrive, she practiced what she would say to him. She had to let him know how much she appreciated his gallant gesture, but she was sure he would agree that their marriage was a mistake.
She sighed and sank down to her vanity stool, suddenly disheartened. She had imagined such grand and beautiful things for this evening. She was certain now that she loved Roman. But the marriage which might have been so perfect was a shambles. No one could build a gleaming cathedral from scattered ruins. And not even she and Roman—as strong as they both were—could build a happy marriage on her ruined reputation.
Desirée quickly dried her eyes once more and prepared to do what she knew she must.
Desirée noticed Roman's sour mood the moment he came in the door. Every night, up till now, had been the same—a bright hello and a quick peck on the cheek before they went in to dinner together. Tonight, she received no smile, no kiss. And instead of offering his arm to escort her to the dining room, Roman went straight for the decanters in the library. She tensed. It was the first time she had seen him take a drink since their marriage. She peered around the door, watching him fill a large tumbler with amber liquid.
Seeing her there, Roman lifted his glass and invited, "Won't you join me, my dear?"
"Roman, you know I don't drink," she replied.
He downed half the glass before he answered, "Ah, that's not what Garnet tells me!"
Desirée felt hot all over suddenly. This was the first time Roman had mentioned Garnet or the night of their marriage since the morning after. Obviously, he was out of sorts this evening, but she couldn't guess why. She decided to put off her planned discussion with him. They both needed to be in control before she brought up the topic of dissolving their marriage.
She realized suddenly that he was staring at her, his storm-blue eyes raking over her breasts, taking in the revealing gown she wore. She felt almost naked under his probing gaze. She only wished she had thought to change before he got home. It was too late now.
"I like that gown," he said as if reading her thoughts. Then he added with a sneer, "It looks like something Garnet would wear."
Desirée couldn't decide if he was complimenting her or telling her she looked like a whore. To cover her confusion, she asked, "You've been to see Garnet?"
Roman was trying to keep his head about him, but it wasn't easy. Garnet's words kept thundering in his brain. It was sheer torture thinking of his wife with another man. Now after having his suspicions confirmed, it was almost more than he could bear. As for Desirée, he had never seen her look lovelier or more alluring. He wanted her right this minute. On half a dare, he'd take her here on the library floor this very second. Oh, God, how good she would feel beneath him!
Instead, he strode across the room and clasped her about the bare shoulders, causing her bodice to slip dangerously low. "Ah, my poor girl!" he whispered. "I should have been more considerate. You probably wanted to join me and visit your old friends and cohorts at Mahogany Hall." The words came out sounding hard and accusing. He tried to soften his tone, but Garnet's story kept twisting him this way and that.
"Roman!" Desirée shoved him away, fighting back tears of shame. "How dare you suggest such a thing! It's the rum talking. I want you to stop that shameful drinking at once!"
He smiled, bowed to her, and walked over to pour another. "It's not rum, my dear. It's Scotch whiskey. And there's nothing shameful about it." He turned to her. "Stop ordering me about at once!"
Desirée was losing her battle against tears. This was not going at all as she'd planned. Perhaps if she were gentler with him.
"Roman, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be issuing orders."
"Well, you were!" he said with a slight Scottish burr.
"Roman, please don't be angry with me. I was hoping we could have a quiet dinner and then a nice evening together. You've been going out so often lately. See, I even dressed for dinner."
Since he had continued to stare at her gown, she decided to take advantage of his interest in changing the subject. She spread the skirt and turned in a circle so that it flared prettily about her.
Roman glanced at her and felt his blood boil. How dare she do this to him? He'd warned her before about flirting. The whiskey, Garnet's words, and the delectable sight of his unbedded bride all worked together to fire his blood. A man could stand just so much!
In four strides, Roman was beside her, sweeping her into his arms. He wanted her! Apparently, she wanted _someone_! So there was no more reason to delay.
He pulled Desirée close to his chest, his hands already working at the buttons down the back of her gown. Just before his mouth came down over hers, he rasped, "We'll forget about dinner tonight. I believe we _both_ have more pressing needs."
Desirée knew in that instant that all was lost. There would be no calm discussions, no explanations or talk of annulment. All was lost! She could no more deny this man who was her husband than she could stop the great Mississippi from rushing to couple with the sea.
###
# Chapter Thirteen
Desirée tried desperately to keep her head clear. She couldn't let this happen. Her moment of weakness passed quickly. Yes, she wanted Roman! And, yes, as his wife it was her place to give in to his needs. Nor could she deny that she felt a keen desire for him. But how could she allow Roman to make love to her after what Yves L'Enfant had told her? Roman would know, and he would never forgive her. The annulment was the only way.
She tried to pull out of his grasp. But Roman seemed to take her attempts at escape as more teasing, more flirting, more playing of the game. He rained kisses on her face, her throat, her breasts, while his arms crushed her ever closer to him. Through the thin silk of her gown, she became achingly aware of his heat pressed hard against her thighs.
Desirée felt stunned and giddy and more than a bit afraid of her husband. For weeks she had dreamed of this moment. Now that it had finally arrived, she found the whole experience overwhelming. She had to make him stop. She had to reason with him.
"Roman," she gasped between his bruising kisses, "Roman, wait! Give me a moment to breathe! We need to talk."
He ignored her pleas, kissing her harder, deeper, and clutching her to him in a strangling embrace. She struggled, and in response he used more force to hold her.
"It's no use fighting me, Desirée." He bit her earlobe hard after issuing his warning. She cried out, but he seemed to take no notice. "You know what I want, _wife_!"
Tired of trying to free the tiny buttons with his big hands, Roman simply gave in to his frustration and took a faster course. Desirée heard the delicate fabric of her gown ripping before she felt it falling from her shoulders. In an instant, she felt the rough weave of his coat against her bare breasts. Thank goodness, she thought, the room was now shrouded in twilight's purple shadows!
Roman quickly remedied that. Eager to behold his prize, he lit the nearest lamp and drew Desirée so close that the flickering light danced across her bare breasts. She glanced down at her puckered nipples, and her face burned with shame. Earlier in the evening, she had done such a foolish, wanton thing!
Roman noticed immediately and stared down into her face with a look of shock that turned slowly into a lusty grin of pleasure. He drew one finger across her chest, nipple to nipple. A faint blur of rouge came off on his hand and smeared her pale breasts.
"By God!" His voice rumbled deep in his throat. "That's a whore's trick! Garnet must have taught you about painting your body that way."
"Oh, Roman, please!" Desirée murmured. "I only wanted you to..."
"To what, Desirée?" he demanded. "Never mind. I know."
Roman was both aroused and angered. The very idea of his wife rouging her nipples like a common prostitute! Still, the thought that she had done such a thing because she wanted his attention—attention he had denied her until now—made him ache with an even fiercer longing. Grimly, he wondered if she had used paints that night at Mahogany Hall. His rage flared once more.
In spite of her protests, Roman scooped Desirée into his arms, burying his face between her breasts. Her velvety flesh radiated a heady, flowery scent, mingled with the biting odor of fear and an earthier smell that was purely female. His mouth watered for the taste of her. His lips parted, and he breathed into the moist valley between her breasts. Then, slowly, languidly, he let his tongue glide over her quivering skin.
Desirée gasped aloud. The warmth, the wetness, the first truly intimate contact between them sent new sensations trembling through her. It seemed suddenly as if she could feel his heat all over her, inside as well as out. When he captured one of her painted nipples in his hot mouth and began flailing it with his tongue, she went rigid, then limp in his arms.
"Roman," she cried. "Roman, stop! Please, oh, please..." But the rest of her words drifted off with a sigh and a moan.
He was moving through the house now, carrying Desirée in his arms, but she was beyond knowing or caring where he was taking her. His lips were against her ear, murmuring things that made her blood race through her veins as her heart pounded faster and faster. She was barely conscious of his words, only his low, rasping tone and the heat and wetness of his mouth, his tongue.
"I want you more than I've ever wanted any woman... _ever_ , Desirée." She heard those words plainly enough and purred in response.
"I'm going to love you... not hard and fast like at Mahogany Hall... slow and long, until you beg. Beg for me, only me."
"Roman, please," she moaned.
"Yes, yes! Just like that. 'Roman, please, now, please, I want you, I have to have you.' Then..." he laughed softly, "then, my love, we'll see."
A moment later, they tumbled onto Roman's bed in a confused heap. Desirée tried not to think. But her mind was caught in a hurricane, a cyclone of Roman's whispers and promises and threats. If only she could remember how it had been with the other man, then maybe she could brace herself for what was to come. But those troubled thoughts soon drifted off into a haze of pleasure. Roman was there—kissing her, touching her, making her need rise to a fever pitch.
How should a bride act the first time? She tried to concentrate on that one question, but Roman wasn't making it easy. She knew nothing of these tingling thighs and aching breasts and the burning deep inside her. She would simply have to let her husband show her the way. She gave up all thoughts of struggle and returned his hungry kisses. She knew of these. Her response came easily.
For a long time, Roman seemed content with her lips and breasts. Very soon, Desirée came to love the feel of the kisses he showered over her nipples, just as she had learned to adore the sensation of his tongue probing her mouth. Only when his hands went to the waistband of her petticoats, ripping and tearing, did she tense and fight again.
He forced her back into the pillows, cautioning her with an angry growl to stay where she was. She lay there, stiff with fear once more, as he stripped away her last defenses. Finally, nothing remained but her stockings and the diamond necklace. She was keenly aware of the tight silk encasing her legs and the cold stones encircling her throat. She felt Roman's eyes devouring the rest of her with lazy pleasure.
Fully clothed, Roman sat beside her on the edge of the bed, making her feel all the more defenseless in her nakedness. He leaned down and kissed her lips, her breasts, trailing his mouth down over her smooth belly until she writhed beneath his touch and moaned his name.
He sat back for a time, watching her, kissing her only with his eyes. Then in a slow, easy motion, he grasped her ankles, tightening and loosening his grip in a steady rhythm. Desirée was breathing heavily. Her eyes were fever bright, but her lids seemed heavy. Her whole body trembled.
"What would pleasure you?" he asked softly.
Desirée only stared at him, unable to answer.
"Very well, I'll pleasure myself then, darling."
He reached up, sliding his hand behind her neck and unclasped the diamonds. Then, slowly, he drew the cold stones in a line down her body—between her breasts, over her belly, and through the down at her thighs. When Desirée quivered and moaned with new desire, Roman cursed angrily and heaved the necklace across the room. Then his strong fingers circled her bare throat and he squeezed gently.
His actions frightened Desirée. She tensed when his big hands moved again. This time he ran them up the insides of her silk-clad thighs. Desirée felt her legs quiver, and muscles somewhere deep down contracted of their own accord. The delicious ache grew hotter and hotter inside her belly and through her hips.
"Roman, please... _please_!" she moaned, twisting her head from side to side.
He ignored her pleas, focusing his full attention on the silk stockings. Slowly, ever so slowly, he drew one down, letting the tips of his fingernails rasp against the tender flesh of her inner leg. Then he began on the other. Again, the slow, tantalizing torture. At last, she lay before him totally naked and defenseless, trembling with the pain of desire.
She opened her eyes and stared up at him, unable to guess what he might do to her next. Whatever it was, she was ready. She wanted him.
What he did both shocked and disappointed her. Standing, he turned and walked out the door, leaving her there, alone on the big bed.
After a moment of surprise, disappointment filled her, creating a hollow feeling in her chest and a burning ache between her thighs. Tears flooded her eyes. She lay there, still, stunned, weeping.
How could he do this to her? _Why_ would he do it?
Roman hadn't gone far, only as far as the nearest decanter. Why, oh, why did he have to keep thinking about her night with Garnet? He laughed grimly as he poured. Garnet wasn't the problem. It was the other man. He tossed down the drink and poured himself another.
Cursing, he remembered how he'd taken advantage of Desirée, too, by marrying her without her consent. Now he was about to compound that sin by "bedding his wife." Desirée was no more a wife to him than Garnet Gold was! At least Garnet loved him. That was certainly more than he could say for Desirée. But here he was, about to take unfair advantage of her for the second time. He'd made that mistake with Courtney. Was he willing to risk Desirée's life by forcing her?
Roman slammed his glass down with a thud. "Dammit! I am not! No matter what she's done, Desirée deserves better!"
He walked back down the hall toward the bedroom. He would apologize and pack a few things. He would sleep downtown at his club tonight, putting all temptation out of reach. Anyone who'd acted the way he had deserved to be thrown out of his own house, he reasoned.
But when he reached the door, all his resolve fled. The soberness he'd coaxed with straight Scotch deserted him. Desirée lay there waiting, just as he had left her—aroused, naked, and lovely.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her lips looked bruised and puffy from his kisses. Her breasts rose and fell dramatically with each heavy breath. Slowly, she began to rise from the bed.
"You said I would have to beg, Roman," she whispered in a husky voice.
She moved toward him. For a long moment, she stood before him, staring right into his eyes. Hers looked smoky-gold and liquid. Her dark, puffy lips parted. The tip of her tongue glided out and smoothed over them. She closed her eyes for a moment and seemed about to swoon.
Roman reached out to steady her, but she swayed slightly. His hand missed her arm, coming to rest instead on her right breast. She moaned softly.
"Desirée, I didn't mean it," Roman said. "I'm sorry."
She was trembling all over, so fearful now that he might refuse her. She couldn't stand his rejection. Her eyes darted over his tall figure. He was still dressed. He could walk out of the house at any moment, and she would never know his love. The only fear that remained was the fear of losing this man she adored. She would do anything, _anything_ to keep him!
Before Roman realized what was happening, Desirée fell to her knees and caught his hands in hers. For a moment, she kept her head bowed so that her long hair covered her face. When she looked up at him, her eyes were brimming with fresh tears and her lips moved.
" _Please_ , Roman, I beg of you, don't leave me like this!" She leaned her head against his thighs, savoring his heat, clutching him closer. "I want you so, more than I've ever wanted anyone in my life. Tell me what I should do. I'll do _anything_ , darling! I love you!" The last three words were whispered so softly, so desperately.
With gentle hands, Roman reached down and helped her rise. He felt suddenly as if someone had opened up new worlds filled with warm sunlight and the cool caress of moonbeams. Had she actually said she loved him? Could it be true?
"Don't cry, love," he whispered, gathering her into his arms. "It's all right now. I won't leave you. And you don't have to beg for love, not ever again."
Suddenly, Roman had remembered the things Nanine had told him about Desirée's unhappy childhood. No one but her mother had ever really loved Desirée, and Mrs. La Fleur had died when her daughter was very young. Undoubtedly, Desirée had had to plead for love all her life. What a fool he'd been to tell her she must beg him!
Roman lifted her into his arms, talking to her softly and soothingly. "It's going to be fine, darling. You don't ever have to beg again. You see, I love you, too, with all my heart and soul. I want you, Desirée. I _need_ you!"
Her arms flew around his neck and her sobs came convulsively. "Oh, Roman, I need you, too! Oh, please! I want to be your wife!"
"Sh-h-h," he whispered. "Here, dry those tears. This is _truly_ our wedding night, dearest."
Instead of going straight back to the bed, as he would have liked to, Roman carried Desirée to a large chair and sat down, holding her in his lap. He let her cry herself out on his shoulder, silencing her intermittent sobs with kisses and soft words of reassurance.
He must be very gentle with her, he told himself. Even though he knew she had been loved before, he was determined to wipe that episode from his mind.
As she lay against him, Roman let one hand stray over her body. At first she tensed, but soon she began to relax. Her sobs were no more than tiny hiccups now, and they were interspersed with soft moans and sighs. He was pleasing her. That was good. He continued his stroking. For some time, he fondled her breasts. Then he let his hand slide down, smoothing over the curve of her hip, her buttocks, and down the back of her thigh. She trembled in his arms and kissed his neck, teasing it with the tip of her tongue.
Encouraged by her response, Roman let his hand slip between her thighs. She clamped them tight against him. He made no move to force her. In a short time, she relaxed. Higher, higher, his hand moved. Finally, the knuckle of his thumb was in position against her softest, tenderest flesh. Slowly, he moved it—back and forth, back and forth.
Desirée felt a shudder of pleasure rising from her toes, rushing up her thighs, filling her, possessing her. She threw back her head with a cry. Her hand went to cover Roman's, holding it to the magic spot. She moaned softly, crooning his name over and over again.
"Come, darling," he whispered. "It's time."
He rose from the chair, still holding her. Never in her life had she felt so alive, so safe, so loved. She clung to Roman, feeling his heart beat next to hers.
In no time, it seemed, he was there beside her in their bed, as naked as she. Their hands and mouths and tongues were everywhere at once. Fire storms seemed to be exploding all about them. Dazzling lights flashed through her brain. Electricity shot through her whole body, emanating from that one special spot he had stroked with such a loving and delicate touch.
When Desirée felt his thighs close over hers, she was more than ready to receive him. This was the moment she had longed for and the moment she had dreaded. She felt his hardness touch her—testing, probing gently. A million starbusts went off in her blood.
_Now, Roman, Now!_ her whole body screamed.
_Yes, now!_ Roman's senses told him. He could wait no longer and she seemed ready.
His strong, quick thrust brought a cry of pain from Desirée. Roman pulled back, astounded. It couldn't be! But there was no denying it. Her maidenhead stood as a barrier against him. A rush of relief, pleasure, and gratitude flowed through him.
It took him a moment to recover, but soon a flood of tenderness engulfed him. Beneath him—soft and warm and pliant, waiting for his first thrust to make her a woman—lay his bride, his own virgin bride.
"I'll be careful with you, darling," he whispered.
But now his impatience, his need knew no bounds. Bracing his hands against her shoulders, he quickly lowered himself into position. Desirée, anticipating the pain to come, gave a small cry when the hard, throbbing head touched her opening. Roman started to draw back, to give her more time. But, no! This must be accomplished quickly for her sake.
Still poised, he whispered, "I love you, my darling. I love your face, your lips, your breasts. I love the feel of you, the scent of you, the very soul of you." He could feel her relaxing, giving herself up to him, unafraid. "I love you more than life itself!"
Desirée felt every word he said. They flowed through her body like liquid fire, making her heart race and her need for him throb stronger than ever. She felt the muscles in her legs relaxing while those inside pulsed and contracted, as if her body sensed what was to come at any moment. As her husband declared his love, her thighs inched apart in response, until she lay open and ready and waiting.
When his thrust came, she felt the pain, but it was lost quickly in a flood of pleasure so intense that she feared she might die from it. She clung to him, opening her mouth to invite his probing tongue so that they might be further joined—made whole and one and united totally and forever.
The ecstasy went on and on. Desirée lay beneath her husband—filled with him, surrounded by his love, and all but lost in her own passion. Slowly and evenly, he guided the rhythm of their movements. He kneaded her breasts with his hands, fondled her feet with his toes, and all the while her mouth and her womb tingled with his loving strokes.
When she moaned and shuddered, feeling the pleasure grow beyond bearing, Roman would quickly pull away. During these intervals, his mouth moved to her breasts, his hands to her belly and thighs, sending little shivers of delight all through her.
When he had gentled her and soothed her for a time, then he returned to his other duties. But unlike that first sudden thrust, he would ease his way in, allowing her to feel his whole, hard, throbbing length as it entered.
Her moment came during one of these slow and wondrous reentries. As she felt his heat flow deeper and deeper into her body, bringing with it a fullness and depth of sensation that was wholly new, her very soul seemed to take flight. She cried his name and clung to him, drawing him ever deeper, ever closer, until she felt his flood mingle with hers, soaring out of body to some hot, white-gold place in the sun.
Afterward, they lay spent in each other's arms. Desirée thought of her husband's words—that she would never have to beg for love again. What a wondrous feeling! Still, she knew she would not hesitate to beg for the kind of love he had shown her tonight.
Roman's head lay on her shoulder. His hand wandered lazily about her body—teasing her belly, touching her thighs, torturing her breasts until the nipples peaked with renewed pleasure. She caught his roving hand and brought it to her lips.
"I thought you were sleeping, darling," he whispered.
She laughed softly. "Hardly! I'm too happy to sleep. Roman, I never dreamed anything could be so lovely!"
"You are, my darling." He sat up next to her suddenly and cupped her cheeks in his palms. "Yes, Desirée, that's exactly it! You are as lovely as love!"
He kissed his wife then, slowly and tenderly. After that, they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.
Desirée awoke the next morning feeling like a new woman. She lay in bed with her eyes still closed, taking account of herself. Her eyes felt heavy with sleep, her lips were puffy, her arms and breasts ached wonderfully, her legs tingled, and there was a lovely soreness between them that she didn't mind at all. In fact, she gloried in it!
Without opening her eyes, she turned toward Roman's side of the bed, ready for more of his delicious loving. To her disappointment, his place was empty.
"Oh, Roman!" she moaned.
She found a note on his pillow:
> _My darling wife_ ,
>
> _It's barely dawn, but I've been called out on an emergency. Such is the life of a doctor, I'm afraid._
>
> _But I want you to stay exactly where you are. You looked so inviting when I left—lying there asleep, wearing a smile and nothing more—that I could hardly bear to leave you. Last night, and all its passion and wonder came rushing back to mind, arousing more than simple nostalgia!_
>
> _I'll make it through the morning_ somehow. _But the moment I return, I demand easy and immediate access to my bride. You see, I plan to begin our old-fashioned Creole honeymoon the minute I get home. We'll bar the bedroom door and have Jules leave trays of food in the hall. We will see no one but each other for the next seven days and nights. Imagine it!_
>
> _I love you, love you, love you, Desirée!_
>
> _Your adoring husband_ ,
>
> _Roman_
>
> _P.S. Darling, I hate to be indelicate, but your doctor feels he must prescribe a hot bath in salts to relieve the soreness. I have already given Leda instructions._
>
> _Your adoring physician_ ,
>
> _Dr. Roman St. Vincent_
Desirée blushed in spite of herself when she read the note. How bold of a new husband, even one who was a doctor!
She was just folding Roman's note when Leda knocked at the door.
"Are you ready for your bath, Madame?" The older woman was smiling broadly. Desirée blushed again. But, of course, the servants knew what had gone on in this room last night. After all, she and Roman had failed to appear at dinner. When newlyweds skipped meals, there could be only one explanation.
Desirée shrugged quickly into her dressing gown, trying not to look as guilty as she felt. "Yes, Leda, thank you."
The woman went about filling the tub, then came out of the bath closet. "I put plenty of salts in just like Dr. St. Vincent told me to."
Desirée knew that even her bare toes were scarlet with embarrassment now. "Thank you, Leda."
"Anything else, Madame?"
"No, Leda!" Why did the woman keep standing there grinning at her? "You may go now."
Leda started to leave, then turned back. "Beg pardon, Madame Desirée, but me and Jules and the others just want you to know that we hope that baby comes real soon. Dr. Roman, he needs a family."
Desirée was speechless. She sat on the bed with her mouth open, staring at the woman.
Leda nodded toward her mistress, then left the room.
When she was alone again Desirée smiled. Yes, Leda was right! Roman did need a family. She hurried to her bath. He would be home soon, and she wanted to be ready for their Creole honeymoon.
###
# Chapter Fourteen
The St. Vincents' next week together was all that either of them could have hoped for. They spent their leisurely hours together talking, laughing, and loving. It seemed that they were the perfect couple, a match planned by the gods.
Desirée shuddered every time she thought about how close she had come to marrying Mr. Williamson and missing so much happiness. What if she had never come to New Orleans, never met Roman? No! She refused to think such foolish thoughts. She had not only met him, but she had married him. They truly loved each other. She couldn't possibly be happier.
Roman's wonder at their perfect relationship matched his wife's. After Courtney's death, he had vowed never to marry again. How very close he had come to keeping that vow. Now he wondered how he had ever lived without Desirée.
Only after their seven days were up did the real world intrude upon their bliss. Then the honeymoon was truly over.
Roman kissed his bride good-bye that morning and headed to Storyville to make his rounds. The doctor who had taken over for him during the past week had phoned to tell him that Ruby was still awaiting the arrival of her baby and that Garnet's mother was about the same, with good days and bad. Other than that, Dr. Crozat had had to deal with three stab wounds, one attempted suicide, and an eye-gouging at Tom Anderson's saloon—a quiet week in the district. However, another young prostitute had been found in back of St. Louis Cemetery murdered and mutilated. At this news, Roman felt renewed relief that Desirée was now his wife and out of harm's way. The picture of the young woman whose body he'd viewed thinking it might be Desirée would never leave his mind, he was sure.
The moment her husband departed, Desirée went to her trunk, digging deep in its shadowy recesses until she found her journal. While she drank her morning coffee, she wrote down all the pent up thoughts that had been in her head for the past week, seeking release.
> September 16, 1899
> How can I begin to explain all the changes a week has wrought in my life? First, my name—La Fleur is no more! I am now, _proudly_ , Desirée St. Vincent, Madame Roman St. Vincent. Ah, the very sound of it sends a thrill through me!
>
> But a name is only a surface thing. The greater change lies deep within me. My husband has transformed my whole world, renewed my very soul. First, with his love. Roman is such a gentle, knowing lover. I never dreamed that a woman could be so content, yet ever yearning to be satisfied anew. Even as I write this, my thoughts fly to the next time he will be here with me, to hold me in his arms and teach me more of these magical wonders of physical love. Why is this marvel kept secret from most women even after they wed?
>
> I freely admit to being happy as a married woman, something I never dreamed could occur. And, even as I write this, I marvel at the thought of becoming a mother. To bear Roman's child would seem the perfect fulfillment to my once-empty life. How wise a woman is dear Nanine! She has often told me that being a wife and mother is the most important role a woman can play. I never believed her... until now. I pray our marvelous honeymoon has left me with child.
>
> Roman and I spent many hours talking to each other about our lives. He was raised by a staid Creole family here in New Orleans, spending his youth as a studious only child. He attended all the proper schools, associated with all the right people, wed the woman who had been signed to him from birth. But it seems that perfection does not always breed happiness.
>
> When Roman speaks of his first wife, Courtney, it is with bitterness, pain, and self-recrimination. I only wish there were some way I could ease these harsh feelings. But it seems he will forever blame himself for her death.
>
> Perhaps, though, merely talking about it has helped him to some extent. He encouraged me to pour out my heart to him. I told him all about my dear mother—what I can remember—my father and his many lovers, his drinking, that woman he married and her cruelties. I explained about losing my nurse and my baby sister so many years ago. This especially seemed to interest him. He questioned me at length concerning their escape and my near-fatal injury. But I guessed his motive soon enough, for after pouring out all my own bitterness to his willing ears, the old pain eased, then went away. My husband, the physician! How I do love him!
>
> It seems Roman and I can talk about everything to each other. Only one topic created a slight strain between us: my evening at Mahogany Hall. I truly wish I could remember the details of what happened. Although, Roman assured me in the most gentle manner that I was not "ruined" while there, I know that I was with a man. I tremble with shame each time I think of it. I'm sure that Roman knows more of what happened to me than I can remember. He has talked with Garnet and with Yves L'Enfant. I still have not been able to tell Roman of L'Enfant's visit to the house that night, when he tried to make me believe those terrible things. If I could understand his motives in doing such a wicked thing, then I could discuss the matter with Roman. But L'Enfant remains an unpleasant enigma.
>
> Roman has forgiven me for my foolishness in going to Mahogany Hall and in allowing Garnet to trick me. Had he tried to force a promise from me that I would never go there again, I'm sure I would have refused to swear it. My greatest sin is my stubbornness! As it was, he asked me gently to stay out of the district now that we are married. He told me that because of his deep love for me he would never know a moment's peace again if he thought that I might be placing myself in such danger. How can I refuse such a fervent plea? In any case, I see no need ever to go back there again.
Desirée paused, rereading what she had written. She heard the telephone ring, then footsteps in the hallway, hurrying to answer it. She smiled. That would be Jules going to the phone. The other servants all considered the instrument some sort of voodoo machine and refused to go near it.
A moment later, a knock came at the bedroom door. "Madame," Jules called softly, "the telephone, it is for you."
"Nanine!" Desirée said to herself as she hurried to the library.
But a man's voice answered her hello. "Miss La Fleur? Beg pardon, Mrs. St. Vincent. Ralph Bigelow here."
"Why, Mr. Bigelow! How nice of you to call!" The past week had erased the editor of the _Mascot_ completely from her thoughts.
"I hope this isn't an inconvenient time. I heard you'd just been married. My congratulations, of course, to you and the doctor. Fine man!"
"Thank you, Mr. Bigelow. Actually, you've called at a most convenient time. Dr. St. Vincent has left on rounds. I was simply writing my morning journal entry."
"Well, ma'am, that's why I'm calling. I figured that now your situation's changed, you'd have given up your ideas of writing for the _Mascot_. I understand, of course. But I have to say that I hate to lose you. That piece you wrote on Agnes's employment agency was a dilly! It's in today's paper."
Desirée sat back, staring at the phone as if she might conjure up Mr. Bigelow's heavy jowls and shock of gray hair. "You used my piece?" she cried, too excited quite to believe her ears.
"That we did!" He chuckled. "And I've been getting calls about it all morning. That list of children we published along with it has broken open a hornet's nest. The word has spread all over. I've had three sets of desperate parents in here already this morning. They've been reunited with their kidnapped daughters already—those two sisters you met, Lettie and Sulene—and two other little girls. They found the sisters at the Studio, Ella Schwartz's house, one girl at Gipsy Shaffer's, and the other at the Star Mansion, the place Ray Owens runs on Iberville. All three madams named Agnes and agreed to testify against her to save their own skins. Agnes has been arrested and the police are scouring the city now, rounding up stolen kids from the list. You're a real heroine, Mrs. St. Vincent! And you've made the _Mascot_ the paper of the hour!"
Desirée felt her eyes swimming with tears. "Oh, Mr. Bigelow, I'm so happy for those families! I know how it feels to lose loved ones. It must be the greatest joy on earth to be reunited with those you thought were gone forever."
"You're right about that, ma'am. I've never seen such excited goings on as that feature of yours has caused." He paused and cleared his throat, getting to the point of his call. "I don't suppose you'll be writing any more articles for us now that you're married."
Desirée sat back and thought for a moment. She could certainly write her impressions of the Arlington and Mahogany Hall, and she had more than enough scribbled notes to do an entire feature on Garnet Gold. But what would Roman say?
"Mr. Bigelow, would you have to use my name on my writing?"
"No, ma'am!" He laughed heartily. "We don't use any of the reporters' real names on the paper, for obvious reasons."
"What name did you use on my article about Agnes?"
Again Bigelow cleared his throat, this time in obvious embarrassment. "Well, Mrs. St. Vincent, I had to come up with something, and I couldn't reach you. So, I put down my first impression of you."
"Which was?" Desirée asked suspiciously.
"Your byline reads 'The Yankee Schoolmarm.'"
A long silence stretched over the phone line while Desirée turned the outrageous pseudonym over in her mind. Then she chuckled. Then she laughed out loud. "Perfect, Mr. Bigelow! I like it!"
A relieved sigh reached her ears before he said, "I'll be putting your check in the mail today, ma'am. Top dollar, as I promised, with a little bonus besides. You've earned every penny of it. Now about those other articles... ?"
"I've nothing written at the moment, Mr. Bigelow, but several ideas. I can start this very minute." Desirée's heart was thundering with excitement. She could write, earn real money for it, and no one would ever have to know. Not even Roman!
"Then I'd better get off this phone and let you write, young lady." Mr. Bigelow sounded as excited as she was.
"Oh, just one more thing, sir," Desirée added. "Please don't mail the money to me. Hold it, and I'll come by the office to pick it up." It would never do for Roman to see her paycheck from the _Mascot_.
"Whatever you say, Mrs. St. Vincent. We'll carry on this partnership quietly and on your terms, I promise. Good day!"
"Good day, Mr. Bigelow!"
Desirée was beaming as she replaced the receiver. It was indeed a good day!
Roman, however, was not feeling so bright and cheery. He'd arrived at the Arlington to find Agnes's daughter, Ruby, in labor at last. Josie herself hurried him upstairs to the whorehouse bedroom where the innocent babe would see the first light of that hot, sultry September morn.
"How long has she been at it?" he asked Josie as they climbed the stairs.
"For the past four hours, Doc. And she's having a mighty rough go at it. Those other two times she got caught, there wasn't nothin' to it. She just felt a little bellyache, lay down for a while, and—pop!—quick as you please, them two were out in the open and yelling their heads off. She ain't never had such hard labor before."
Roman shook his head. _Three_ trick babies! Wouldn't the woman ever learn? After her last pregnancy, he'd given Ruby and all the others careful instructions on how to avoid these accidents. But they paid no attention to him.
" _Why_ do they let this happen?" His question was directed as much to himself as to Josie Arlington, but she answered him.
"Aw, Doc, you know how it is. They forget. Then, too, there ain't a woman alive who don't want her own kid. Whores ain't no different!"
Somehow, Roman found Josie's statement hard to swallow.
"And Ruby's other two? What happened to them, Josie?"
The woman beamed. "Oh, they got fine homes! Old Agnes ain't gonna sell her own grand-younguns to just anybody!"
Roman bristled, thinking of Desirée's disappointment and frustration the day they'd gone to Agnes's together. Everyone in New Orleans knew what kind of business she ran, even Officer O'Reilly. He wouldn't be in the least surprised if O'Reilly hadn't tipped Agnes off somehow before they arrived at her house. But that was all in the past now. Agnes was still in the business, as she had been for years. It seemed there was nothing anyone could do about it. Now it was his task to deliver her next tiny victim. He sighed resignedly and rolled up his sleeves.
Josie showed him into Ruby's room. The windows were down and the jalousies closed. Not a breath of air stirred. The place reeked of stale sex, whiskey, and sweat. Ruby lay on the wide bed, moaning and crying, obviously in the throes of a contraction and suffering from the stifling heat as well.
"Open those windows!" Roman ordered. "For God's sake, do you want her to suffocate?"
Josie hurried to do his bidding while Roman poured water from the pitcher beside the bed into a porcelain basin. He wet a length of toweling and began wiping his patient's forehead and murmuring to her softly, trying to reassure her.
"Everything's going to be all right now, Ruby. It's Dr. St. Vincent. I'll help you. Just try to lie still and breathe evenly."
Ruby clutched his hand, her nails biting into his flesh, and let loose a stream of foul oaths as another labor pain wracked her body.
"I know it hurts, Ruby, but it won't last much longer. Keep pushing."
When the pain passed, Roman made a quick but thorough examination. His brow furrowed and sweat ran down into his eyes, clouding his vision. Josie was right, something was very wrong. The baby was in the breach position. It was going to be a long, hot day for all of them.
Suddenly, Ruby screamed and twisted so violently that she nearly tumbled off the bed. Roman caught her and held her down until the pain began to diminish. In the sunlight streaming through the windows, he watched the mask of pain ease from her face. Once again, he could see that Ruby was a beauty—blond hair, perfect complexion, and green eyes that reminded him of Courtney's. Yes, she was a lovely woman! He grimaced at his own thought. Actually, she was little more than a child herself. Seventeen, perhaps. Certainly, no more than eighteen, yet here she lay, laboring to give birth to her third child in as many years. And for what?
Suddenly, Roman knew for what! Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? Why hadn't he spoken to Nanine and Placide before now? Then a frown crossed his face. Perhaps Agnes had sold the baby already. He knew she kept a list of "ladies in waiting" for her customers, often accepting partial payment long before the child was born. Probably, his plan was all in vain. But at least he could suggest it to Ruby. After all, this was her baby, not Agnes's.
"Your baby's coming very soon now, Ruby. You rest for a bit. It will all be over before you know it." Roman spoke quietly, trying to calm her with his soothing tone. "Are you going to keep this one?"
"Aw, hell, Doc, you know I can't!" Tears of pain and true motherly emotion were streaming down her pale cheeks. "I'd like to. Honest to God, I would! I reckon there can't be nothing in the world as sweet as having your own little baby. But my ma says I got to work. And I ain't bringin' up no child of mine in a whorehouse like I was brung up!"
"What about the father?" Roman asked gently. "Do you know who he is? He might help you financially, Ruby."
She laughed suddenly, even through her pain, and Roman was sure she was about to tell him how ridiculous his question was. But she didn't. Instead, she said, "Funny thing is, I do know! Never had the least idea with the others. There was so many when I first started here, you see. But last year, there was this john that kept coming back and coming back. He told Miss Josie he wanted me reserved special for him... didn't want me servicing no other tricks but him. Hell, it didn't matter to me. And Miss Josie said he paid right smart for the privilege. So, yeah, Doc, I know who the daddy is."
Roman was wiping her brow again, trying to make her as comfortable as possible before the next contraction began.
"Well, Ruby, are you going to tell me his name?"
Tears gathered in her lovely green eyes and rolled down to mingle with the sweat soaking her hair. "No, Doc, I ain't!"
He stared at her, astounded by her answer. "But why not? A man would have to be a heartless brute not to want to help his own child."
Ruby narrowed her eyes and her full lips became a tight, hard line. "I reckon that's just what the bastard is! See, I told him when I found out I was expecting. He'd wove me all these fine tales about us getting married and leaving New Orleans so's nobody'd know about me and what I'd been. He told me about his fine plantation and all the servants I'd have, all like that. Well, I believed ever' last bloomin' word of it! That's how come I got pregnant, as it happens. He kept puttin' off setting a date, and I figured if I was carrying his baby, he'd right up and marry me, like that." She snapped her fingers weakly.
"But he didn't," Roman surmised aloud.
"I reckon as hell not! Remember that time a few months back when Miss Josie called you over to patch me up? She said I'd got drunk and fell down the stairs."
Roman nodded. He certainly did remember—black eyes, bruises and contusions all over her body, a busted lip and broken front tooth. He remembered, too, her suicide attempt a month after that, and all the pieces began to fall into place.
" _He_ did that to you, Ruby, knowing you were pregnant?"
"No, Doc!" she answered. "He done that to me _because_ I was pregnant! Said he wouldn't have no _filthy whore_ giving birth to a child with bloodlines as fine as his. He said he'd kill this baby before he'd let me have it. I went down those stairs all right, but I wasn't drunk, and there was no falling about it. He threw me! That was after he'd beat me up good and proper. Then he left, Miss Josie said, figuring I was dying if not dead already. He ain't never come back."
All talk stopped for a time as Ruby labored once more to bring her baby into the world. When the pain passed, she was too weak to speak above a whisper, yet she kept trying to talk.
"Reckon you can see now, Doc, why I ain't interested in telling the father."
"I understand, Ruby. But you should have had the man arrested."
She laughed weakly. "For beating up on a whore? Hell, who'd care? If it went to trial, they'd probably give him a medal!"
Roman hated to admit it, but Ruby was right. If such a case ever did get to court in New Orleans, the man, especially if he was from a fine family as he claimed, would go scot-free, while Ruby would most likely be tarred and feathered, and ridden out of town on a rail. So much for justice!
"Ruby, can you hear me?" Her eyes had closed. Roman wasn't sure she was conscious.
But she nodded and said, "Yeah, Doc."
"What if I found a good home for your baby? Then you wouldn't have to work any longer. This family, I'm sure, would be happy to buy you a ticket anywhere you wanted to go. You could start a whole new life."
Ruby sighed. "Sounds nice, Doc. But my ma's already sold my baby. I wanted to keep it my own self. She yelled at me, threatened me, gave me a lickin' herself when I was no more than just healed up from them stairs. That's when I took that straight razor to my wrists. When you can't go to your own ma, who can you turn to?"
"You can turn to me, Ruby. Trust me. Let me place your baby."
For the first time since his arrival, Roman saw Ruby smile. She squeezed his hand, then brought it to her lips and kissed it.
"They're right about you, Doc. You really are the Saint of Storyville. I reckon I got more trust in you than anybody else I know. You take my baby. It's yours. And bless you!"
The baby came a few hours later, a beautiful, healthy, rosy-cheeked little girl. Her mother, however, never lived to see the child she'd wanted so desperately to keep for her very own.
Now Roman knew he had to move with all haste. If Agnes had sold the child already, she would know within the hour of the baby's birth. He doubted if even her own daughter's death would postpone Agnes's business transactions. He had to get the infant out of the Arlington and out of the district as quickly as possible, before Agnes and her vultures swooped down to claim what they considered theirs.
After making all the necessary arrangements for Ruby, Roman, with the baby in his arms, hurried to find Josie Arlington. She was in the kitchen, ordering the cook about.
"Josie, we have to talk."
"In a minute, Doc," she called over her broad shoulder. Then she went on haranguing the harried servant.
"Right now, Josie! It can't wait!"
As soon as she joined him in the parlor, Roman quickly explained what had happened—the birth, Ruby's hemorrhage, and her death. He also told Josie that Ruby, with her dying words, had entrusted the baby to him.
Josie seemed more relieved than surprised. "Well, if you're about to ask me to close tonight out of respect for the dead, Doc, _don't_! I got a big party coming in from Baton Rouge. And I hope you didn't leave no mess up there."
Roman stared at the woman, his mouth agape. "You can't mean that you plan to use Ruby's room this very night?"
"Can't see why not! Sure as hell she won't be needing it! They'll be bringing the ice wagon for her soon, I hope, so the maid can tidy up."
Roman gave the woman a disgusted look. "I'm sure she'll be out of here within the hour."
"Better be! It's too hot to leave her laying around for long!" Josie snorted. "And what about her brat? You're taking it, you say?"
Roman nodded.
"Well, thank God for small favors. I didn't know what the hell I'd do with it once I heard the news about Agnes a while ago from Tom Anderson."
"What news?" Roman demanded. It was late afternoon now, and he'd been closed up in the room above all day. "What's happened, Josie?"
Josie Arlington brought out a copy of the _Mascot_ and shoved it under Roman's nose. Quickly, he scanned the article, recognizing it immediately as his wife's work. "The Yankee Schoolmarm!" After the week he'd just spent in bed with Desirée, that particular pseudonym seemed highly inappropriate. But at least no one else would know who had written it. And he'd see that this ended her writing career for all time.
When Josie told him of Agnes's arrest, he allowed himself a moment of pride for his wife and her newspaper piece. She had accomplished what he had been unable to do over the past years. Desirée, with her pen alone, had put a stop to old Agnes. But still, as a married woman and a doctor's wife at that, she could hardly continue as a reporter for the _Mascot_.
In his hurry to get Ruby's baby safely home, Roman almost forgot one important detail. He turned to Josie as she reached the front door and asked, "Who was the man seeing Ruby last year?"
Josie's face showed her surprise at the question. "Why, she saw any number of men, Doc. You know how it goes."
"But Ruby told me there was one in particular. I'd like to know his name."
Now Josie avoided Roman's eyes. Obviously, she remembered, but she had no intentions of divulging the information.
"I couldn't say. I'm sorry."
"But, Josie, he's this baby's father."
Suddenly, she looked up at him, her face darkly serious and her eyes flashing with fear. "You saw what he did to Ruby. You want him to do the same to that child? If I was to tell you, he'd come back here and throw me down those stairs. Oh, no! His name is better forgotten."
Roman realized that Josie was right. Any man cruel enough to beat the woman expecting his own child would not hesitate to do harm to the infant. Since it was useless to argue with Josie, Roman left, carrying the newborn infant carefully in his arms. Finding the father would help nothing. The child needed to be loved, to be wanted. She would be far better off without her true father. And what a delightful surprise she'd be for Nanine and Placide—for Desirée when he arrived home!
Desirée was just putting the finishing touches on her next article for the _Mascot_ when she heard Roman's carriage turn into the drive. Quickly, she folded the piece about Garnet and slipped it into her journal. Then she stuffed the leather-bound book back down in the bottom of her trunk. By the time she heard Roman's boots on the front veranda, all visible evidence of her day's work was hidden away.
She smoothed her damp palms down the front of her lavender linen skirt, wishing she could conquer this guilty feeling that hovered over her. There was no crime in her writing, after all. Surely, Roman would be proud of what she was doing, she tried to tell herself. But she remained unsure enough to keep her from divulging her secret.
Checking her appearance in the mirror, she found one thing amiss. Roman's wedding gift, the diamond necklace. He'd be disappointed if she weren't wearing it when he came in. Quickly, she clasped it around her neck. It nestled in the organdy ruffles of her shirtwaist. Then she hurried to greet him.
But as Desirée walked into the hall, her arms outstretched to receive her husband, she froze, unable to believe her eyes.
"What's _that_?" she finally managed.
Roman laughed at her reaction. "Why, it's a baby, darling!" He flipped back one corner of the light blanket for her to see the infant's chubby cheeks and bright blue eyes. "What did you think it was?"
Now Desirée's outstretched arms went, not to enfold her husband, but to accept the child. "Oh, Roman, it's the sweetest thing!"
"It's a she," he replied, feeling a warm glow at seeing his wife's mothering nature for the first time. "But she hasn't a name yet. I thought we'd let Nanine and Placide decide on one for her."
"Oh?" Desirée's sparkling smile faded. "She's for Nanine. I thought..." Desirée brushed her cheek against the infant's, and Roman could almost swear that he saw tears gathering in her eyes.
"Darling!" He put his arm around his wife's shoulders and hugged her. "Don't fret. We'll have our own. I thought you'd be delighted for Nanine."
Desirée smiled up at him, sniffing back her tears. "I am, of course. It's only that I thought for a moment that she was ours. I have to admit it was a wonderful feeling. We will have our own, my dearest, soon. Very soon, I hope!"
A bevy of servants arrived when the baby let out a howl. Old Jules's eyes grew as big as saucers when he saw his master and mistress with the child. The females of the household all babbled and twittered in their unintelligible Creole patois.
Soon everything was arranged. Leda sent for a woman she knew who could serve as wet nurse. A makeshift nursery was set up in the dressing room adjoining one of the guest rooms. And Roman put in a call to Placide, inviting him and Nanine over that very evening. The Duplantiers were delighted to accept, expecting nothing more than a pleasant evening with their newly wedded friends.
Before their guests arrived, Roman had to have a talk with Desirée. It could wait no longer!
At the time Roman had arrived home, he had been disturbed about only one thing—her writing. Now something else had set him on edge. She was wearing that damned necklace again!
"Desirée, let Leda take the baby now." His voice was stern suddenly, almost alarming in its severe tone. "There's something we need to discuss."
When he headed for the library instead of their bedroom, Desirée sensed she was in deep trouble. Obviously, he had seen a copy of the _Mascot_. And just as obviously, he was _not_ pleased!
"Yes, Roman," she answered submissively, her eyes downcast as she followed him.
But when she walked in and he demanded, "Why are you wearing that infernal piece of jewelry?" all she could do was clutch the cold stones at her throat and blink.
###
# Chapter Fifteen
Desirée had never seen Roman look so angry, not even that first day when he'd mistaken her for Garnet. She had expected a certain amount of displeasure from him once he found out about her article in the _Mascot_ , but his angry attack took her totally unawares.
"You wear that thing like some badge of honor, Desirée. I thought when I disposed of it the other night, it was gone for good. I wouldn't be so anxious to advertise my shame, if I were you."
Now Desirée's anger was growing to match his own. Instead of shrinking from his fury, she took a step forward, drawing herself up to do battle.
"Roman, I may be your wife now, but I refuse to give way to tears and apologies every time you fly into one of your unwarranted rages. As for this necklace advertising my shame, I haven't the foggiest notion what you're talking about. I assumed that a wedding gift from a husband to his wife was something to be treasured."
Roman broke off his attack and stared at her blankly. "A _wedding gift_? Whatever gave you that idea?"
Desirée was stunned by his reaction. If the necklace had not been his nuptial present to her, then where had such a costly trinket come from? An uneasy feeling crept up from the base of her spine until she found herself trembling all over. It couldn't be! But it must be! The only other place she'd been the night they were married was Mahogany Hall.
Without a word, Desirée reached up and unclasped the necklace. She stared down at the hard glitter of the stones in her palm. Her blood ran cold.
"I had no idea, Roman." She was shaking her head, still staring, mesmerized by the necklace. " _He_ gave it to me, didn't he? That other man."
Desirée let the cold diamonds slip through her fingers. The necklace slithered out of her hand to the floor. At the same time, tears slipped down her cheeks. How could she have made such a stupid mistake? If only she could remember that night. Yet, she feared the return of her memory with a terrible dread.
She looked up at Roman. The anger was gone from his face, replaced by an expression of deep pain.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Roman had her in his arms in an instant, kissing the tears from her cheeks, murmuring soft words, trying to make things right again between them.
"Darling, it's I who should apologize," he murmured. "I should have known better than to think that you would use that necklace to hurt me. I've acted like a fool, a stupid jealous fool! I'll buy you a dozen diamond necklaces to take its place. You're right, a husband should give his wife something beautiful on their wedding day, something she can treasure all her life."
Desirée wasn't listening to his words any longer. She was lost in his strong, protective arms, listening to his heart beat next to hers. He'd been away from her for only a few hours, but it seemed like years. She wanted him. She needed him more desperately than ever.
She didn't realize she was staring up at him, transmitting a silent invitation with her eyes, until he said, "There's not much time. Placide and Nanine will be here soon, darling."
But when he leaned down and kissed her—deeply, possessively—she knew that her husband had decided there was time enough.
Leaving her for a moment, Roman went to the library door and turned the key in the lock. He was already undressing her with his eyes as he started back. By the time he reached her, Desirée had opened the front of her blouse for him. He caressed her breasts first with his eyes, then his hands and his lips took over.
Moments later, they lay together on the soft leather couch, not fully undressed, but with clothing all asunder. Fighting her petticoats into submission, Roman found entry at last.
All day, the thought of this moment had hovered in Desirée's mind. As she felt his first hard thrust and the fullness it brought to her body, her senses soared and her excitement rose to a frantic pitch. There was no time for the languid, flowing kind of love-making they had enjoyed all last week. The very thought that their guests might interrupt them at any time lent an urgency to these delicious, stolen moments. It was as if their very lives depended upon immediate and total satisfaction.
Desirée, clinging fast to Roman's neck, parried each powerful thrust with a spasmodic tightening of muscles. She held him with her arms, her knees, her ankles, tightening her pressure each time he moved within her. She stroked his tongue with her own—tasting brandy, tobacco, and desire. Soon they were both sweating, panting, drowning in shared pleasure. When the final shudder of ecstasy ran through them both, Roman collapsed atop her, his mouth still clinging to her lips.
"Oh, Desirée," he finally murmured, "what a wonder you are! You know, of course, that no proper Creole wife would ever allow her husband such liberties before the sun goes down."
Lovingly, adoringly, she ran her fingers through his damp hair. "And _never_ in the library!"
_"Never!"_ he agreed, punctuating the exclamation with a deep kiss.
"Then, my love," she said when she could catch her breath again, "next time we'll use the front parlor!"
"Desirée!" He looked into her eyes, a feigned expression of shock on his handsome face. "The next thing I know, you'll be suggesting we try the courtyard!"
She laughed softly, dreamily, and smoothed her cheek down his. "That sounds enticing, my darling. The tinkling of the fountain, the moonlight bathing our bodies, the soft grass for a bed."
Roman leaned down and nipped at her breasts, bringing a purr of totally exquisite pain from his bride. "You are incorrigible, my pet. A delicious, delightful wanton!"
Desirée frowned as her eyes caught the glitter of the diamond necklace there on the floor where she'd dropped it. She knew Roman was joking, but his final teasing epithet disturbed her deeply. Perhaps he knew her better than she knew herself.
Roman had thought about broaching the subject of the newspaper article while the two prepared for their company, but he decided against it. There had been enough unpleasantness between them for one evening. They were happy again now. He wanted the closeness they shared at the moment to stretch on as long as possible.
So instead, he took the opportunity to fill Desirée in on the baby's background. He explained that Ruby lived at the Arlington and had purposely planned the pregnancy, hoping the father would marry her and take her away from New Orleans and her sordid life.
"It seemed to be one of those rare cases where a Storyville woman actually found the right lover and her means for a better life," Roman explained. "All the man had to do was marry her, as he'd told her he intended to do."
"But he refused?" Desirée asked, disbelieving.
"Worse than that," Roman said. Then he went on to tell her of the man's abuse of the child's mother.
"Why, that's horrible!" Desirée cried. "I almost wish you hadn't told me, Roman."
She was in the bath. Roman came to her and sponged her back gently. "I wouldn't have, but it isn't the sort of thing I wanted to carry around with me. I needed to get it off my chest." He leaned over her shoulder and kissed a bubble from her cheek. "That's what wives are for, darling, sharing a man's trouble as well as his pleasure."
Desirée felt warm all over suddenly. Yes, she wanted to share _everything_ with her husband. "I'm glad you told me, Roman. It just makes me so furious! To think that a man could be such a monster."
"I know exactly what you mean, my darling. I could strangle the bastard with my bare hands!"
Desirée rose from the tub and allowed her husband to towel her dry even as their discussion continued.
"I don't blame you, darling!" Desirée reached up and caressed his face. "And you can share anything with me, my dearest, anytime you need to. It's only that I had no idea any woman would allow herself to be treated so badly."
Roman stood in front of her now, taking great care to see that her breasts were thoroughly dried. "In the district, it isn't a matter of _allowing_ , Desirée. For some reason, most men seem to think prostitutes are fair game, that they even enjoy rough treatment."
"No woman could enjoy being beaten! That's ridiculous!"
"Of course it is. But in this case, it has nothing to do with anything. The man was clearly trying to kill Ruby and her baby. He wanted no part of them. He told her his bloodlines were too fine for a woman like her to bear his child. Most likely he had a wife already and was afraid that she would find out and create a scandal."
Desirée stared at him. The tale went from bad to worse. "Who was the man?" she wanted to know.
Roman shook his head. "Ruby wouldn't tell me. She was afraid for the baby. Josie Arlington knows, too. But she refused to say, terrified that he'd come back and abuse her as well."
Roman guided his wife to the bed and knelt before her to dry her feet, her calves, her thighs.
"So he goes free after all he's done!" Desirée meant to sound outraged, but her husband's gentle attentions softened her tone. "The man _must_ be punished! Who knows how many other women he will abuse, possibly even murder, if he isn't put where he belongs!"
"I couldn't agree with you more, my dear," Roman said quietly. "But it isn't that simple. He's from a good family, a family with social and political connections, undoubtedly. His sort doesn't go to jail for mistreating prostitutes. Besides, we don't know who he is, and I doubt there's any way we can find out. The other women at the Arlington will take their cue from Josie."
Desirée rose to get dressed. She was still fuming with outrage, but she let the subject drop. Her mind was working in other channels now. Maybe Josie Arlington wouldn't tell Roman who the father was, but she might tell another woman—a reporter from the _Mascot_ , who promised to keep her source confidential. While she finished dressing, a plan was already taking form in her mind.
By the time the Duplantiers arrived, Roman and Desirée had both bathed and changed for the evening. Roman noted with pleasure that his wife's cheeks still wore a glow from their time together in the library. He smiled down at her, still marveling at how quickly and totally she could arouse him with little more than a glance.
As the obligatory kisses, hugs, and handshakes came to an end, Placide turned to his cousin and said, "My dear Desirée, you are positively glowing! We knew you and Roman could make each other happy, the only problem was how we would get you two stubborn individuals together. But it seems you didn't need our help after all."
Nanine was fairly bursting with pleasure at seeing her friend looking so well and happy. "You took the matter right out of our hands," she said. "You did it all by yourselves. Oh, we simply can't tell you how delighted we are for you!"
"Why don't we all go into the parlor?" Roman suggested, leading the way. Soon they were seated in a comfortable group on the heavy, brocade-covered chairs. Jules brought brandy for the men, café au lait and a silver tray of pralines for the ladies.
After a bit more chitchat, the serious look on Roman's face told Desirée that he was about to get the point.
"Nanine, Placide, I hope neither of you will be embarrassed if I bring up a rather delicate medical observation. After all, we're all family here."
Their guests looked surprised, but both murmured their willingness to hear what Roman had to say.
He cleared his throat and looked directly at Placide as he spoke. "This isn't anything new. We have discussed your wife's problem before. I know how worried both of you have been."
Placide shifted uncomfortably, and a warm blush suffused Nannie's cheeks. But neither of them said a word.
"I know how much you want a child." He glanced at Desirée, enfolding her in the warmth of his smile. "My wife and I also are hoping to have a family, very soon. So we understand how desperate you must feel, knowing of Nanine's problem."
Desirée watched as Placide glanced at his wife and took her trembling hand in his. She felt uncomfortable for Nanine. Why didn't Roman just get on with it?
"I'm sorry," Roman said. "I promise not to embarrass you further. You see, I have found a solution to your problem this very day."
Placide and Nanine, both assuming that Roman meant some medical cure or treatment which would put an end to her barrenness, looked up hopefully. They smiled at him tentatively, waiting to hear what else he had to say.
But Roman said no more. Instead, he pulled the bell cord, and a moment later Leda appeared with Ruby's baby in her arms. Desirée stood, took the child, and handed her over to Nanine.
"It's a girl," she informed the Duplantiers. "We haven't named her. We thought you would like to do that."
Nanine, holding the infant to her breasts, looked as if she couldn't believe her eyes. Then she began to cry happy tears. She crooned softly to the infant and kissed its plump cheeks. It was obviously love at first sight.
But Placide looked alarmed, almost angry. He moved away from his wife, as if he were afraid to be too close to the little stranger. Desirée noticed his reaction with a deep sense of dread. What was wrong with the man? How could he not love such a sweet little girl?
"What kind of game is this, Roman?" Placide demanded. "It's cruel to let Nanine fondle this infant when you know she can't have one of her own. I think we'd better leave, my dear. Give the baby back to Desirée."
Placide was on his feet, ordering his wife to rise also. Nanine, looking totally stricken, pleaded silently with her silvery-blue eyes.
"Placide, sit down and let me explain," Roman insisted. "This child _is_ yours, if you want her. Ruby, the mother, died in childbirth. She gave her infant over into my keeping at the very last. I promised I'd find the baby a good home. Even at the time I had you in mind. I can think of no better home than yours. And certainly there could be no more loving mother. Look at your wife, man! Why, she loves this baby already! How can you do this to Nanine?"
Placide's fists clenched at his sides. Desirée felt a hollow, sick ache in her heart. Had she imagined it, or had Placide winced slightly when Roman mentioned Ruby's name? She couldn't bear the thoughts that were running through her mind. Surely, her own cousin couldn't be the man who had tried to kill this baby and her mother! The very idea was too horrible! Still, hadn't Nanine herself come close to admitting that she suspected Placide of keeping another woman?
At that very moment, Desirée determined to visit the Arlington again. She had to get the truth out of Josie.
"How can _you_ do this to Nanine, Roman?" Placide asked, his voice quivering with rage. "You can't seriously expect us to take some foundling to raise as our own!"
"She isn't a foundling. I knew her mother. She was a lovely woman." Roman wasn't lying. Ruby had been exceptionally beautiful. But he dreaded telling Placide that she had been a prostitute.
"Oh, please, Placide!" Nanine begged. "Can't we keep her? I've always wanted a daughter. She'll be like our very own. After a time, you'll forget that she isn't really ours."
The silence in the parlor grew thick and uncomfortable. Desirée shifted in her seat, trying to think of something to say that would convince Placide to accept the child. If, on the other hand, he was indeed Ruby's former lover, he could not be allowed to take this baby and possibly do it harm.
Quickly, Desirée made up her mind. She rose and forcibly removed the infant from Nanine's arms. Her friend wept pathetically. Desirée shared her pain, but she felt there was no other way.
"I think it would be best if you both thought about it for a time," Desirée said. "We shouldn't have sprung it on you this way. We'll keep the child here until you make up your minds."
"My mind is already made up!" Placide snapped. "Come, Nanine. We'll be going now."
Desirée's cousin seemed a different man. She'd never seen this hard, cold side of him before. Still, she knew that all men had their darker moments, even Roman, she thought, remembering the way his temper had flared over that necklace. But Roman had had good cause. What was Placide's reason for rejecting Ruby's baby so quickly? The more Desirée thought about it, the more certain she was that Placide was the infant's true father. She wanted desperately to discuss her fears with Roman, but she dared not. She couldn't bear to accuse her own cousin without concrete proof.
"Well, I certainly botched that!" Roman said as the front door closed. "I never thought of Placide's male ego interfering. I was so sure they would accept any baby instantly."
"Nanine did," she answered.
Desirée soothed the crying infant, then handed her over to Leda. Right now her husband needed all her attention. She took his hand. "You can't blame yourself for Placide's reaction, dear. He's probably still hoping that Nanine will become pregnant. After all, you told me there still might be a chance."
"You're right, of course. Placide must still be praying for a child of his own. But I had so hoped..."
"I know, my darling." Desirée stood on tiptoe to place a soothing kiss on her husband's cheek. "And maybe things will turn out fine if we give them some time."
But as Desirée tossed and turned in bed that night, unable to sleep, she wasn't at all sure. When Roman, wide awake as well, reached over to place a comforting hand on her arm, Desirée knew that she must talk this out before she could sleep. The room was dark. Roman wouldn't be able to see her face. It would be easier now than if she waited till morning.
"What is it, darling?" Roman asked softly.
"Nothing!" Her answer came automatically and was far from the truth.
"Desirée, I know better. Now tell me what's bothering you. Please! I only want to help."
A long silence followed his words as Desirée gathered the courage to speak. Surely, Roman would be understanding with her. Granted, men—especially Creole men—stuck together, guarding to the death each other's secrets and their peculiar code of honor, but a man's relationship with his wife was very special, too. If she couldn't confide her fears to Roman, then there was no one who could help her.
"Darling?" she said at last.
"Yes, I'm listening."
"Do you think Placide keeps a mistress?" Her heart thudded anxiously after she forced the question out. "Even Nanine suspects that he might."
"I would say that's entirely Placide's affair and of no concern to either you or his wife!" He sounded angry, affronted that a woman would dare bring up such a subject.
"Roman, please don't be so gruff with me. I have a good reason for asking. It's not just female curiosity." She paused and took a deep breath before demanding, "Does he or doesn't he?"
Roman sat up on the side of the bed. Even in the dark, Desirée could tell that he had turned his back to her as if to ignore her prying questions.
"Desirée, I realize that you have been away from New Orleans, from the whole Creole culture, for many years. But surely you remember from your early upbringing that some things are sacred to a Creole gentleman. Why, I would no more ask Placide that question than I would dream of bedding his wife! Some things simply aren't done! I have the feeling that this is all your idea, but if Nanine put you up to it, she should be ashamed of herself. She's been married long enough to realize that the bond between a man and his mistress, at least in some cases, is stronger than the relationship between a man and his wife. A perfect example was my first marriage. Courtney could offer me no love—either physical or emotional. Had I not had a mistress during those years, my life would have been empty indeed. Courtney knew that and accepted the arrangement."
These last words came like a slap in the face to Desirée. She couldn't believe her own husband was telling her such a thing.
"Well, I certainly would never accept anything of the sort!" she snapped at him. "What you're telling me is that if you choose to keep a mistress, that is entirely up to you, and I have no say in the matter, no right to complain. You are also telling me that even while you are my husband—until death do us part—you could love another woman more than you love me. And I am to accept that without question as well because you are a _Creole gentleman_? No, Roman! Not I! Not ever!" Desirée was trembling, fighting back tears. She refused to give in to this twisted, outmoded code of ethics.
"I was under the impression that you wanted to talk about Placide, not about any outside relationships I may or may not have." Roman's answer sounded cold and distant. His words sent a chill through Desirée's blood.
"I do want to talk about Placide. I need some answers. You are the one who put yourself into this hypothesis. Certainly, the last thing I want to hear is that my own husband could share himself with another woman—a woman he could love more than he loves his own wife!" Desirée sat up in bed, too, knowing she sounded shrill, but unable to restrain her anger. "Tell me, Roman! Explain it to me! Why is it that a man can love his mistress more than the woman he has married? I'd like to know!"
"Desirée, for God's sake, calm down! You'll wake the servants."
"I will not calm down!" she yelled. "Not until you explain this to me! I don't care if I wake the whole city!"
Roman turned quickly and caught her arms above the elbows. She pounded his chest with her fists, but he forced her down on the bed, covering her lips to silence her just as he'd done that first day. Some of the fight drained away.
Still holding her, Roman leaned over her and hissed, "This is one reason. Exactly this! If you were my mistress, you wouldn't dare scream at me, no matter what I said or did. A mistress, by her very nature, is sweet and kind and loving all the time. She asks no questions. She demands nothing other than her basic needs. She is always there, always ready to soothe, to give, to love, and to be loved."
"And a wife? What good is she to a man, then, Roman?" Desirée demanded. "Why don't all men content themselves with perfect mistresses?"
He laughed at her question, but there was no humor in his tone. "Ah, that would be lovely! But it seems man was put on earth to suffer endlessly. And so he must take a bride. Traditionally, the Creole wife keeps her husband's home, bears his children, and stays strictly out of his business. She neither asks impertinent questions nor writes exposés for scandal sheets. She goes to mass, she supervises the servants, and, when the time of the month is proper, she allows her husband to visit her bed, solely for the purpose of procreating."
Desirée was feeling sicker by the minute. She tried to laugh at his words, but there was an edge of hysteria in the sound. "Are you telling me I'm not a good wife because I have an education, a mind of my own, and I encouraged you to make love to me on the library sofa?"
"Ah, so finally you understand!"
His response made her even more furious. She pounded at his chest, shrieking, "Of all the pompous, arrogant..."
Desirée was out of bed before Roman could stop her. Quickly, she pulled on her robe and darted out the door. Even as her husband chased after her, Desirée dashed into one of the guest bedrooms and slammed the door. She turned the lock an instant before Roman caught up with her. Ignoring his frantic pounding, she leaned her back against the thick cypress and covered her face with her hands. Tears flooded down her cheeks, leaving a hard knot in her throat and an empty ache in the pit of her stomach.
How had it all started? She couldn't even remember. Oh, yes, Placide! Now she didn't care whether he had a mistress or not! That was Nannie's problem, not hers! Roman St. Vincent was more than Desirée could handle at the moment!
Roman kept pounding and calling to her, begging her to open the door.
"Go away!" she answered. "I'm not coming out!"
When he grew silent at last, Desirée fell to the bed and cried even harder. She thought back over everything Roman had said to her. By Creole standards she was, indeed, a terrible wife! And Roman was stuck with her, for better or worse. "Mostly worse!" she moaned.
For a long time, Desirée let herself wallow in her misery. She named off all her faults—many more than the few Roman had enumerated—compared herself unfavorably to Nanine and other Creole wives she'd met, and finally concluded that Roman had got a bad deal all around. She would simply pack up and leave at first light. Perhaps she'd go to Europe. Anywhere, so long as it was far, far away from New Orleans and Roman!
But the very thought of leaving her husband—the man she loved so dearly, even when she was furious with him—made her ache all over. Just thinking about life without him made her feel empty and useless.
She sighed and turned over, staring out the window at the coming dawn that streaked the sky with lilac and peach and gold.
"I _can't_ leave him!" she finally admitted. "But I can't stay here either—not as his wife!"
Roman left the house to visit his patients long before Desirée stirred from her hiding place that morning. Thinking she must be exhausted and sleeping after their tumultuous night, he had made no effort to tell her good-bye before he departed.
Though Desirée missed his good morning kiss, she was relieved he was gone and hoped he had a busy day. What she was planning would take some time to accomplish, and she didn't want him there to try to stop her. Quickly, she packed her bags and called Jules to help carry them.
All of the servants wondered, but none of them dared ask for an explanation when the mistress moved her things to the small apartment over the carriage house. It hadn't been used in years, and it needed a good dusting, but it was furnished nicely. One large bedroom, a tiny parlor, and a cozy dining area. Yes, it would be perfect!
When Roman arrived home that evening, he found the house unnaturally quiet. He knew without asking that Desirée was not there. He soon found out why.
"Madame, she left this note for you, sir," Jules informed him.
Roman's heart sank. All day, he'd thought about their senseless argument and the cruel things he'd said to Desirée. How stupid of him to compare her to other Creole wives! He would never have fallen in love with her if she were a drab, uninteresting woman who never had a thought of her own! Her fire and determination were the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. It was exciting to be married to Desirée, never knowing from one moment to the next when she would entice him to the library sofa or fly into a rage at some infraction, real or imagined. Life without Desirée would be as dull and dreary as a cold, rainy February morning.
Slowly, with shaking hands, Roman unfolded the single sheet of stationery, expecting the worst. But when he read Desirée's note, his frown turned into a grin, then exploded in a hearty laugh.
> _Dear Roman_ ,
>
> _From this moment on, you can consider our marriage null and void for all practical purposes. I could never live as your wife, knowing that at this very moment or at some time in the future you might decide that you cannot survive without the comfort and solace of some other woman's love. I do not intend to share my man! Not ever!_
>
> _And so you may take this as your official notification that from now on I intend to be your_ other woman. _You can't marry, because we are legally wed. And now you can't take a mistress because you have one already. When you feel the need of emotional comfort or physical love and a woman who will do your bidding sweetly, you can find me in the apartment above the carriage house._
>
> _I understand from Nanine that it is customary for a gentleman to shower his mistress with gifts. A nice tradition! I will hold up my end of this bargain, and I will expect you to do the same._
>
> _I will expect you this evening at your convenience. At that time we can work out a suitable settlement and arrangements for your visits._
>
> _Your adoring mistress_ ,
>
> _Desirée_
"So, you want to play games, do you, my darling? My _mistress_ , indeed!"
Roman crumpled the note and hurried to the bedroom to wash up and dress for dinner. She'd done this to spite him, he knew. But damned if the idea didn't excite him!
Imagine, a Creole wife demanding to be treated as her husband's mistress!
Suddenly, he paused and thought about it more rationally. What right did she have to refuse him as a husband? He'd done nothing to disrupt their marriage. What would his friends think if they found out that his wife had moved out of the house, even if she was still on the grounds?
Roman strolled to the window at the back of the bedroom and gazed out over the courtyard, toward the carriage house. A lamp flickered in the small window. He could see Desirée silhouetted against the lace curtain. She was gazing out across the short distance that separated them. For a moment, his heart beat frantically. He had the urge to cross the courtyard at a run, to fly to her waiting arms. He turned his back on the window.
"Not tonight!" His voice was gruff with suppressed emotion. "She wants to be my mistress. Well, she will have to learn a kept woman's patience!"
Roman pulled the bell cord and his servant appeared immediately. "Jules, I'll be dining alone tonight."
Desirée, dressed in a filmy lace peignoir that Roman had bought her, sat waiting for hours. Why didn't he come? Had Jules forgotten to give Roman her note? Or had some patient taken ill unexpectedly?
She shook her head and sighed. No, Roman was in the house. She would know if he had taken the carriage. He was there, but what was he thinking? Was he pleased that she was out of his way? Was he furious at the action she'd taken? Was he punishing her?
"You're such a fool, Desirée!" she told herself. Her voice quivered as tears threatened. "You could be there with him now, making up after that silly quarrel. But here you sit, all alone, miserable, wanting him!"
She glanced out the window. On the third floor, she spied Roman's unmistakable form at the bedroom window. Her heart beat faster. Perhaps he was preparing to come to her. But as she watched, the window went dark. The other lights in the house were extinguished a short time later. She sagged. Roman had gone to bed early and sent the servants to their quarters as well. He would not come to her tonight.
Cupping the chimney of her oil lamp, she blew softly. The light guttered, then died. Feeling empty and more alone than she ever had in her life, Desirée climbed into the big bed.
"Good night, my darling," she whispered to the empty darkness.
All night, two lonely people lay awake, tossing and turning in their beds. Both fought their temptation and neither gave in. It was a long, dark night of aching loneliness.
###
# Chapter Sixteen
On the fourth day of Desirée's self-imposed exile, she sat at the velvet window seat of her tiny parlor, gazing out over the empty courtyard, thinking that her life seemed equally as desolate, but not nearly as placid and beautiful. Water bubbled with a gentle tinkling sound from the beak of a cast iron crane who stood in the fountain below. A soft, cool breeze wafted in from the river, tossing the broad green leaves of the banana trees. The brick walk still wore a glossy sheen from the night's dew. Begonias in red and pink and white lined the path. One tall palm rattled its fronds as if just waking from a long night's sleep. The house beyond was still shuttered and quiet this early in the morning.
Roman had yet to visit his "mistress." Four long, lonely nights she had spent—waiting, hoping, wondering why he chose to ignore her so totally. Desirée decided that she could wait no longer. She had no intention of returning, meek and defeated, to the house. Instead, she realized, she must get on with her life, even if it so annoyed and frustrated her husband. For all she knew at this point, her writing and reform might be all she had left.
She rose from the window seat and began to dress. She chose carefully on that crisp October morning. She must look just so in case she happened to run into Roman—perfectly by accident, of course. She had heard his carriage leave shortly after sunrise. As she watched him drive out through the wrought iron gates, she could have sworn he'd glanced up at her window, an expression of longing on his face.
Desirée sighed again. What wishful thinking she allowed herself these days!
As she adjusted her befeathered hat, tilting it ever so slightly over one arched brow, she forced herself to face the truth. Roman's expression in all likelihood had been one of concern for whichever of his patients had summoned him so early. He'd put in long hours in the past few days. She had watched his carriage leave with the rising sun and return long after the lamplighter had made his rounds. One night he had not returned at all. She had watched at the window the whole night through. She'd wondered who could be so ill. Then she'd caught herself pondering over whether it could be someone other than a patient who kept him out so late, having him stay the night.
Could it be that Roman had taken her proposal to become his mistress as some sort of joke—another of her frivolous schemes? Perhaps he'd had another woman hidden away even before he married her. The thought, as horrifying as it was, seemed likely. She had tried to block the memory of the white cottage on Rampart Street from her mind these past weeks. She had told herself he was visiting a patient there. But what patient provided the doctor with his own key to come and go as he pleased?
Desirée forced the disturbing question from her mind. There were other things to be tended to this morning. She must do something about Ruby's poor little daughter. The child was thriving, growing more alert and more beautiful every day thanks to Leda's care and the mothering of the wet nurse. Desirée, too, spent as much time with her as possible during the hours when Roman was away from the house, but the infant needed parents of her own to love and care for her. Desirée desperately wanted the Duplantiers to be those parents. She was determined to accomplish that goal. But first she must ease her mind about Placide. She would find out the truth today—one way or another!
It was a few minutes past eleven when Desirée arrived at the Arlington in a hired hack.
"Please wait for me," she told the driver. "I won't be long."
She smoothed her gloved hands down over the burnished copper taffeta of her skirt, adjusted her hat, then headed for the stairs. Her first knock brought Josie Arlington to the door.
"Well, if it ain't you again!" Josie's mood wavered somewhere between anger and surprise. "I'd about given you up for good. Ready to move in, are you?"
"No!" Desirée answered quickly. "I've married, you see, so I won't be coming to work for you. I do thank you for your offer, though."
Now Josie smiled. "I declare! It makes a body feel right good to know that things work out for some folks. I'm happy for you, Desirée. But, if you're not coming to work, what brings you here? This ain't exactly the place for a new bride to come calling."
"I know that. But I need to talk to you about something. Could I come in for a moment, Josie?"
"Why, sure!" Josie backed away from the door and swept one arm toward the parlor where they had talked before. "Come on in and take a load off. My, my, that is a fine-looking gown! You must have caught yourself a rich husband!"
Desirée smiled and nodded. "He is quite generous with me."
They sat down, and Josie rang for tea and rice cakes. Once the formalities were dispensed with, Desirée got right to the point.
"I've come about Ruby's baby."
Josie's eyes went wide with surprise. "Well, I hadn't give that child another thought since the day it was born. If you're looking to adopt it, you'll have to talk to Dr. St. Vincent. You see, he took the baby right after Ruby passed. Said he'd find a good home for her."
"I know that, Josie. I married Dr. St. Vincent."
Josie's mouth dropped open, then she caught her breath sharply. "You don't say! Well, I heard he was married, but it all seemed kind of hush-hush. I never did hear the bride's name, just that she was not from around these parts. You sure did get you a good one, honey!"
Desirée smiled. "Thank you. I agree. But about the baby—"
"I'll help if I can, but I don't see what I can do. If Doc can't find a home for it, I reckon you're just stuck with the youngun. I sure can't raise her here. And now that Agnes is in jail, she can't help either."
Desirée frowned at the mention of Agnes's name, but at least the woman was still in custody.
"What I need from you, Josie, is the name of the baby's father."
Josie jumped up from her chair, the muscles in her jaw working with tension. "I done told the doc that I can't tell who the father is. The man's crazy! He'd come back here and kill me quick as you blink an eye. After he beat up Ruby, he left for good. He took his trade over to Lulu's, I hear tell. And that's fine by me. I don't want the likes of him in my place. Not ever again! I don't even want to talk about him. Gives me the shakes just thinking what he did."
Desirée sank back in her chair, silent and contemplative. Obviously, as Roman had said, Josie would not tell her what she wanted to know. Then a thought struck. She brightened.
"Josie, it's not really that I need to know who the man is. It's more that I have to find out who he _isn't_."
"I don't follow you."
Desirée sat forward, staring right at Josie. "We've found a home for Ruby's baby. But I need to make sure that the man is _not_ the child's natural father. I refuse to put that sweet little girl in more danger."
Josie nodded and struck a match to her slender, china pipe. "I see. Well, I suppose I can do that for you. What's this man's name, the one that wants to adopt her?"
Desirée steeled herself, almost afraid to ask her all important question. Finally, she blurted out, "Is Placide Duplantier the father?"
For a moment, Josie's brows drew down. She looked at Desirée hard, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to answer. Desirée's heart was pounding with fear.
"You mean the banker?" Josie asked finally. "The one with the pretty wife and the big house over on Prytania Street?"
Desirée nodded, afraid to trust her voice.
Josie laughed out loud. "Lord, no, he's not the father! Why, I've never even seen him around the district."
Desirée jumped up and hugged the older woman. She was so relieved she could hardly think straight. Never mind who the father really was! It wasn't Placide, and that was enough for her!
"I don't know how I'll ever thank you, Josie!"
Minutes later, Desirée was out in the bright October sunshine once again, still feeling much relieved. Now that she knew Placide was, as Roman had said, only suffering pangs from his male ego, she was sure she could convince him to take Ruby's child. It would make Nanine so happy. She felt like bursting into song as she climbed back into the waiting hack.
"Where to, ma'am?" the driver asked.
Desirée was just about to give him the Duplantiers' address when she heard someone call her name. She glanced over her shoulder and frowned deeply when she spied Garnet beckoning from the doorway of Mahogany Hall.
"Wait for me!" she told the cabbie. She had a few things to say to Miss Garnet Gold, and there was no time like the present.
As Desirée climbed the high stairs, she saw that Garnet looked terrible. Her face was unnaturally pale. Dark circles ringed her eyes, making them appear sunken and hollow. Her hair, usually a mass of dark curls, hung lank and uncombed. Even her clothes looked different. Instead of the garish costumes she normally wore, she was wrapped in an old flannel robe that was a drab grayish-brown color.
"Do you have time to come up to my room and talk?" Garnet asked.
"I won't go to your room, but we do need to get a few things straight between us. I've been meaning to find some way to arrange this meeting."
Garnet turned to go inside, saying, "Yeah, I guess you're pretty sore at me. I reckon you've got good cause."
When they were seated in the big, empty kitchen with steaming mugs of coffee before them, Desirée demanded, "Why did you do it, Garnet? I never did anything to you. You tried to ruin me!"
Garnet had put no sugar in her coffee, yet she focused her attention on stirring it with a heavy spoon, round and round, until the scratch of metal against ironstone began to grate on Desirée's nerves.
"It was a rotten thing to do," Garnet admitted. "But then I guess I'm a pretty rotten person."
Desirée said nothing, vowing that Garnet would have to wait a long time if she expected her to soothe the tension between them by denying those words.
"Well, I been paid back with interest!" Garnet said at length. "I figure it's all my fault that my ma took bad sick the very next day. She's just barely hanging on now. If she dies, it'll be all on my head. So, I want to apologize for how I tricked you and for the things I told Roman when he came here to ask about that night. I fed him an outright pack of lies about you." She lowered her head, trying to hide her tears from Desirée. "I'm sorry. I beg you to forgive me, if you can. I don't reckon I'll ever be able to forgive myself."
Suddenly, as Garnet's voice broke and her shoulders quaked with sobs, Desirée's anger cooled. Poor little thing! Poor little lost creature! was all Desirée could think. How awful to be so young and hopeless, to have no one, and to live the life of a prostitute in Storyville!
"There, there!" Desirée soothed. "No harm was done, Garnet. And look at it this way, if you hadn't tricked me, Roman might never have married me."
Garnet looked up at Desirée with an ironic smile on her face. "I guess you're right. And that in itself is punishment enough for me. I got to be honest with you. I _do_ love your husband! I always have, always will!"
Garnet's confession brought a sick feeling to the pit of Desirée's stomach. It was more than jealousy. It was pure gripping fear. How many other women in Storyville, in New Orleans must think themselves in love with Roman? Handsome doctors were fair game. The past four days' separation suddenly took on monumental proportions in Desirée's mind. She _must_ find a way to make Roman come to her tonight. If he refused, then she must return to him immediately. She would beg if she had to. No amount of foolish pride was worth the sacrifice of her husband.
When Desirée remained silent for so long, Garnet said, through a fresh rush of tears, "You're still mad, aren't you?"
Desirée reached out and patted her hand. "No, no! It's just that so much has happened. I'm afraid my marriage isn't off to a very smooth start. I'm worried, Garnet. I want things to be right again. You see, I love Roman, too, as a wife should love her husband. But I can't seem to do things right. I don't know how to please a man. I've had so little experience."
Garnet slapped her knee and laughed. "Well, shoot! If that's all that's bothering you, I can give you a few pointers, Desirée. It's the least I can do for you after all the trouble I've caused."
Made bold by Garnet's offer of help, Desirée explained to the younger woman that she had moved out of Roman's house, had demanded a mistress's rights from him. She further admitted that Roman had thus far made no move to come to her in the carriage house apartment.
"It all seems so hopeless at the moment, Garnet. I know I should never have taken such a drastic step. But the thought of Roman keeping a mistress drives me wild. I know many men do, but not _my_ husband! I couldn't bear it!"
Garnet was dumbstruck by Desirée's confession. She had to hand it to Roman's wife. She was some strong-willed lady! But to move out of his house, out of his bed! That was something Garnet was sure she would never have had the guts to do, no matter how desperate the situation.
"You're sure you did the right thing, Desirée?" she asked cautiously.
Desirée shook her head slowly. "I'm not sure of anything at this point, Garnet. But it's too late for me to back down now. I have to make Roman see my side of this if we are ever to have any sort of marriage. If you have any suggestions that might help, I'd be happy to hear them."
For the next hour, Desirée sat enthralled as Garnet explained to her the secrets of pleasing a man. Desirée had never dreamed that such intricacies were involved in the care and feeding of the male ego. Married life, it seemed from what Garnet was telling her, could be either a dull, humdrum existence for both partners or a fairy tale come true. Apparently it was up to the woman to guide the direction of the union. By the time Garnet finished talking, Desirée was already imagining herself as Cinderella and Roman as her Prince Charming. Yes, indeed, things were about to change for the better!
"I can't thank you enough, Garnet," Desirée said at last. "You must care very much for Roman to share all your secrets with me just so I can please him."
"That man deserves to be happy!" Garnet said emphatically. "I'd do anything to see that he is. And I hope you will, too."
"I'm certainly going to try," Desirée assured her.
Suddenly, Garnet looked thoughtful. She leaned back and gazed hard into Desirée's eyes. "You want to hear something odd?"
Desirée nodded.
"Roman thinks me and you may be related. Ain't that a hoot!"
Suddenly, several conversations with her husband came back to Desirée's mind. She'd wondered why he wanted to know so many details about her early childhood. This notion of his explained all that.
"I did have a younger sister," Desirée confessed cautiously. "I lost touch with her when she was little more than a baby. She'd be just your age, Garnet. And I think she probably came to live in New Orleans. She may still be right here in the city. But I wouldn't know how to begin searching for her."
"What was your sister's name?" Garnet asked wistfully.
"Innocente. I remember her as the most beautiful little baby!"
Garnet laughed. "Innocent and beautiful, too! Well, that proves I'm not your long lost sister!"
"Oh, Garnet, don't be so quick to judge yourself. You have many good qualities, I'm sure."
Garnet tossed her tangled hair back over her shoulders. "Oh, yeah? Name me one!"
Desirée thought for a moment. "You care for your mother very deeply."
Garnet frowned. Without meaning to, she'd allowed herself to hope for the briefest moment that Roman might be right. How different her life could be if she had some family ties with this proper Creole lady! But when Desirée mentioned Garnet's mother, the truth struck home with a fierce blow.
"Yeah, my ma... I do love her. And she's my proof that Roman doesn't know what he's talking about. You said your ma's dead. Before she died, she was _white_ just like you! And I'm colored, just like my ma. So, there's an end to that!"
Desirée's mind flicked back to the past—to her father and the dark beauties at Belle Fleur. Could it be that Garnet was the product of one of those illicit unions? She couldn't bring herself even to suggest such a thing to the other woman. No, it was better this way. She and Garnet Gold were simply strangers who happened to look very much alike.
"Desirée, I hate to bring this up after everything I did to you."
The girl's words sent a prickle of dread through Desirée, but she tried to brush the feeling aside. "Go ahead, Garnet, say what's on your mind. We have few secrets from each other now."
"Well, it's just that it has to do with the night you were here. The man who was with us..."
Desirée flinched. "Please! Don't tell me his name! I don't want to know."
"All right! All right! You don't have to know. But I'll tell you this about him, he's a decent fellow. A man I'm real fond of. And that night he brought me a present. The last I remember seeing it, he'd put it around your neck."
Desirée gasped. "The diamond necklace! So that's where it came from!"
"You still have it?" Garnet asked hopefully. "I shouldn't even ask, I know. But I'd sure like to have it back. Sentimental value, you know."
Desirée smiled at the wistful tone in Garnet's voice. "You'll have it this very day, I promise you. That infernal piece of jewelry has caused me no end of trouble. Roman was not exactly understanding when he saw me wearing it."
Garnet cast her gaze down once more. "I reckon I'll have to keep telling you I'm sorry for the rest of my days."
"No," Desirée said firmly. "I think we've both learned our lessons from that night. Let's just forget it, shall we?"
By the time Desirée left Mahogany Hall, she was feeling relieved all over again. She meant what she'd told Garnet. She planned to put that awful night completely from her mind. It never happened as far as she was concerned. As for Garnet, the girl needed her help. Perhaps she couldn't reform the whole of Storyville, but she could see that life was made better for one other woman. This was a project Roman would approve of, she was sure. And certainly he couldn't fault her for inviting Garnet to visit her even if there was that stupid law about prostitutes staying confined within the limits of Storyville.
After leaving Garnet, Desirée traveled by hired hack to visit Nanine. She had no idea what a cataclysmic force she had set into motion. All her thoughts were on reassuring her friend, making her believe that the baby could and would be hers. She'd hardly given Roman a thought since leaving Garnet. As for Garnet herself, Desirée knew that she would be at Mahogany Hall getting ready for the evening's trade.
But even as she rode along toward the Garden District in her cab, Roman had headed his tired horse home. And Garnet was preparing for her evening all right, but she had plans to go out for a change.
Roman hunched over the reins. It had been a long day, an even longer week. With the first chill of fall, every ailment in the city from rheumatism to the ague flared up. Babies came early with the change of season, and old people, who had been hanging on through the heat of summer, passed quickly in the cool of autumn, like so many brittle brown leaves falling from the branches of a tree. Roman had been fighting desperately for the past days to keep Garnet's mother from joining those others. It almost seemed she wanted to die. But he would not allow it! He would make her hold on!
The other thing that nagged at him was Desirée's queer behavior. He knew he should have gone to her that first night she moved out, but he'd hated the thought of another scene with her. So he'd stayed away, hoping to teach her a well-deserved lesson. He knew now that he should have taken advantage of that night. Every evening since then, he had been called away and forced to stay half the night or longer at some patient's bedside.
God, how he wanted his wife right this minute! His body ached and his nerves were ragged. Only the feel of Desirée's loving arms around him could soothe the chill from his bones and the loneliness from his heart. No matter what games she might be playing when he got home, he meant to have her tonight. He glanced up. The sun was still high.
"Never mind tonight!" he said aloud. "I'll have her before sunset or know the reason why!"
Even as he spoke the words, he began painting fanciful pictures in his mind of making love to his wife in the old brass bed in the carriage house, on the grass beside the tinkling fountain in the courtyard, on a pile of fresh hay in the stable. He could see her creamy breasts and imagine the texture and taste as he ran his tongue over one firm nipple, feeling it harden to his touch. He shifted on the buggy seat as his body responded to his thoughts. He whipped up his horse, driving faster now as he neared his own gate.
The minute he entered the drive, he spied the lace curtains fluttering in the breeze at her open window. He smiled. She was waiting for him. Well, she wouldn't have to wait much longer! And he hoped, by God, she was ready for him, because he was more than ready for her!
Garnet had felt strange at first about entering the carriage house when Desirée wasn't there. She knew it wasn't right to barge in, but Desirée had invited her to visit, and she had left the door unlatched. Surely, she would be here any moment. And wouldn't she be in for a surprise!
After Desirée had left Mahogany Hall, Garnet had felt like a new person. Confession, she decided, was indeed good for the soul. She had washed her hair, put on her best and most respectable gown, and determined to visit Desirée immediately. She would help Roman's wife get ready for his first visit to his _mistress_.
It hadn't been difficult for Garnet to get away. Lulu knew that her mother was desperately ill. She had given the girl the night off without a single question. A hired cab had taken her from the steps of Mahogany Hall right to the gate of the St. Vincent home. She had decided that if anyone stopped her, she would identify herself as Mrs. Roman St. Vincent. But no one had given her a second glance.
For the past half hour, while she'd waited for Desirée to return, she had explored the tiny apartment, making herself right at home. Finally, she'd removed her feathered hat and the tight jacket of her peach silk gown. Now she stood with her back to the door, admiring a painting of a great mansion, identified by the brass plate on the frame as "Belle Fleur." Desirée's home, she realized. She studied the picture carefully—the tall columns, the circular drive, the sweeping staircase, the rose garden. Soon she was lost in thought—mesmerized by the scene—and she failed to hear footsteps on the stairs or the door opening softly.
Roman peered in. There she was, her back to him, gazing fixedly at the painting of her childhood home. A rush of sympathy for his wife flooded through him. She had lost everything from her early life. Now she had a new life, and he would make up for all those empty years.
He strode softly across the room and slipped his hands around her tiny waist, nuzzling her soft hair with his cheek. She jumped with surprise and stiffened at his touch, but Roman was not to be put off. Before she could protest, he turned her around, capturing her lips in the deep and hungry kiss he had dreamed of for days.
After only a moment's hesitation, her arms slid up around his neck. Her long, slender fingers twined through his hair. Her eager tongue matched his stroke for stroke. Fire blazed through Roman's body. He had never felt such need, such abandon in his wife. He crushed her closer, glorying in the feel of her taut breasts against his chest, her nails raking his shoulders.
A million devils were battling with Garnet's soul. This was the last thing she'd expected to happen. After all, only a short time before, Desirée had bemoaned the fact that Roman had yet to visit her in the carriage house. So, who could have guessed that he would come here the very moment he arrived home?
A moment after he first touched her, she had tried to protest, tried to tell him that he was making a terrible mistake. But then his lips had silenced her, and his deep, searching kiss had taken away her will to right his wrong. Now, as his hands cupped her breasts—kneading, fondling, searing her with desire—she knew she was lost. She was sinning shamefully. Oh, dear God, how good it felt! She'd dreamed of this moment since she first set eyes on Roman St. Vincent.
"Darling, darling!" he murmured against her open mouth. "I've been so wrong, so cruel to you. You had every right to leave me. But now we're together, on _your_ terms. And I mean to make things right!"
Garnet's eyes flickered open to gaze up into his. Never had she seen so much love and need in any man's face. And, oh, how she wanted to satisfy those needs, to give him all the love she had! But it was _wrong_!
Drawing on more strength than she knew she possessed, Garnet was about to tell Roman the truth when the door flew open. There stood Desirée, her mouth wide to protest, her hands clutching her heart, painful tears gathering in her eyes. Garnet felt a knot like hot lead in the pit of her stomach. What could she do now?
Quickly, before Desirée could find her voice, Garnet shrilled, "What are you doing here, Garnet Gold?"
Roman, stood staring from Garnet to Desirée and back to Garnet. He seemed as stunned as Desirée.
"Wait here for me, darling," Garnet said to Roman. "I won't be a moment." She smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek, then whispered, "I'll see Garnet out and then you and I will finish what we've started."
Quick as a flash, Garnet darted toward Desirée, shoving her back out the door, which she closed firmly.
"You!" Desirée gasped. "Oh, how could you do this to me?"
"Get hold of yourself!" Garnet said in a harsh whisper. "This isn't what you're thinking. I came to see you. Roman got here first. He thought that was you in there. He just apologized to _you_ , and said he was willing to go along with your terms."
Desiree was staring, trying to grasp all that Garnet was telling her.
"But you were going to let him make love to you, weren't you, Garnet? If I hadn't come when I did, you weren't going to tell him he'd made a mistake!"
A sardonic smile curved Garnet's lips. "I'm not sure. I guess we'll never know, will we? But you _did_ arrive. Now go in there and tell him you sent me packing. Make love to that man as if this were your last hour on earth!"
To further the deception, Garnet quickly swapped clothes with Desirée, then pulled the pins from her hair.
"Now, go to your man, Desirée, before I change my mind and do what I want to do instead of what I know I ought to do!"
As Garnet fled down the stairs, Desirée turned back to the door. When she walked in, Roman was still standing where Garnet had left him, a puzzled expression on his face. But the moment he saw her, all questions vanished from his thoughts. He opened his arms to his wife. She went to him. He captured her lips in as sweet a kiss as Desirée had ever known.
Her body came alive to his touch. Still clinging to her lips, Roman worked at the ties of her camisole until his seeking hands found her bare flesh. She sighed and quivered as he drew circles with the tips of his fingers round and round her nipples. She was breathless and weak by the time Roman freed her.
Stepping back a pace, Roman let his hands drop at his sides. He stood staring at his wife, a twinkle of wonder and desire in his storm-blue eyes.
Desirée felt a flush of embarrassment suddenly. Her bodice hung open, her breasts peaked with wanting his touch.
"A man's mistress should never be shy with him, Desirée," Roman said softly. "Hold your head up. Be proud of what you're feeling, of what I'm feeling for you."
Taking a deep breath, Desirée straightened her shoulders and stood before him tall and straight and unashamed.
"That's better, darling." Roman walked over to a chair and sat down. "Take it off please."
When she eyed him quizzically, he smiled and said, "Your bodice."
Slowly, feeling a new warmth flood all through her, Desirée removed her camisole. She stood before him, bare to the waist, while he devoured her lovely flesh with hungry eyes.
After gazing at her for a long time, he patted his lap. "Come sit here, my darling."
Again, Desirée did as ordered. She perched on his knees with her back ramrod straight. Roman slipped one hand around her waist to draw her closer. As his right hand stroked and caressed her bare back, he fondled her breasts with his left. All the while, he stared into her eyes, making love to her with silent, moving passion.
When Desirée could bear the need no longer, she turned to him, kissing him slowly, softly, sweetly. She let her tongue trace the line of his lips until they parted for her. Then with leisurely delight, she crept inside, marveling at the warmth and softness of his mouth and the feeling this closeness sent flooding through her.
When Roman moaned softly at her tender ministrations, Garnet's admonition came back to her: "Please him in order to please yourself. Do what he wants most, and you will find that it is also what you want."
What had Roman wanted of her in the past? There were little things that she had shied from doing, thinking them unseemly, even for a wife.
Slowly, she unbuttoned Roman's shirt, letting her fingertips stray teasingly through the hair on his chest. His flesh quivered under her light touch.
"Oh, my darling!" he sighed. "What are you doing to me?"
She let her hand slide lower, ever lower, until she felt the hot throb within his trousers. She squeezed. He moaned and threw his head back. She continued her passionate play until he caught her hand in a tight grip.
"Do you mean to drive me mad?"
His eyes were glazed with desire. She felt her whole body aching and trembling as she looked into them.
"I only want to please you, darling," she whispered. "I want our love to be the best you've ever known. Tell me what you like. Tell me what I can do..."
Without another word, Roman was on his feet, holding Desirée in his arms. He put her on the bed, leaned down to suckle her breasts, then stripped her skirts and stockings away. In short order, he lay beside his wife, as naked as she.
The night was long and cool and quiet. But a peculiar, delicious warmth filled the tiny apartment above the carriage house.
Only Roman's black mare and the yellow tomcat down below heard Desirée's pleas and sighs and moans of total ecstasy as her husband loved her slowly and thoroughly, guiding her hands and her lips to please him and in the delicate, delicious process, satisfying them both beyond all dreams.
When the sun turned the river to a ribbon of fire, Roman St. Vincent and his "mistress" still lay in each other's arms, kissing, touching, coming to know themselves and their mates as neither of them had ever known another lover.
The whole world seemed right for Desirée suddenly. She knew at last what a treasure she had in her husband, and she meant to guard that treasure well... forevermore!
###
# Chapter Seventeen
Over the next few weeks, everything in Desirée's life seemed to come together. It was almost as if Roman's first visit to the carriage house had worked as a charm to set the whole world right. The happy influence extended beyond Desirée herself to encompass those she held dear, Nanine and Placide in particular.
As she dressed carefully that bright morning in mid-November, her mind turned to happy thoughts. Today was Roman's birthday, and she planned a celebration for the occasion. She had a full day ahead of her, preparing a very special surprise. First, she would go with Leda to make market, choosing all Roman's favorite delicacies for dinner.
She had invited several of Roman's colleagues and their wives, all of whom had accepted. She had hoped that Nanine and Placide could come, too, and bring little Rosemarie with them, but the baby had the sniffles and Nanine felt they must remain at home now that the nights were cool and damp. She was a careful mother.
Desirée's mind strayed for a moment back to the happy scene in the Duplantiers' parlor when they had finally accepted Ruby's child as their own. She closed her eyes and smiled, seeing it all again.
The day after her visit with Josie Arlington, she and Roman had telephoned the Duplantiers' home, asking if they might drop by for a visit. Roman had been against springing the child on them again, but Desirée had insisted.
"I think now that Placide has had time to think things over, he may change his mind, darling."
Roman had given her one of his looks, telling her without words that he was not as confident as she. Still he went along with this latest scheme, if only to see the outcome.
As they'd driven through the fine afternoon air, Desirée had felt strong maternal stirrings with the sweet-smelling baby nestled against her breasts.
"They _have_ to accept her!" she'd told Roman. "If they don't, I'm not giving them another chance. As I told Nanine the other day, already I feel as if she's mine!"
Roman had smiled at the two of them and touched the infant's pink cheek with one big finger. "She's a little bit of a miracle all right. Could be she'll work her magic on the Duplantiers today."
But some of Desirée's earlier confidence had fled when Placide himself opened the door for them. For an instant, she'd thought she glimpsed rejection in his eyes. However, before he could speak, Nanine was beside him, reaching out to take the baby.
"Oh, Desirée," she'd crooned, "you've brought her to us. Thank you!" She'd held the baby up toward her husband. "Look, darling, it's our little girl!"
Desirée had eyed Placide skeptically, sure that he would turn away. For a long time, he'd stood silent, staring down at the infant. Then tears gathered in his eyes. When he took the child from his wife moments later, he was silent, subdued. He'd placed a kiss on her warm cheek while they all looked on.
"I've always envied my friends when I saw them with their little girls. There seems such a special bond between fathers and daughters." Desirée could still feel the emotion in his voice as he'd spoken those words.
And so it was done! Ruby's baby found the home, the parents, the acceptance she so desperately needed.
Later, Nanine had confided to Desirée that Placide had been distraught after refusing the child. "She came as a shock at first, you understand, a baby out of nowhere. But once he'd had time to think things through properly, Placide wanted that baby as much as I did. He was born to be a father."
Desirée watched one of Leda's bright roosters strutting in the garden below. She smiled, thinking of Placide as the cock of his own roost now. Although Desirée knew that Placide was not the infant's natural father, the way he strutted about these days would have made anyone think that the beautiful little girl was truly of his own seed. The Duplantiers—mother, father, and daughter—were as close a family unit as had ever existed.
Suddenly, her thoughts turned back to the present. She hugged herself, thinking how fine it was to feel so good. The past few weeks had sped by. And Desirée was as happy now, in mid-November, as she had been that first evening when Roman came to her in the carriage house. Were it not for their deep and abiding attachment, it would almost have seemed that the two of them were playing at love.
After that first surprise visit, Roman had come almost nightly and always with some delightful surprise for his "sweetheart," as he had taken to calling Desirée. There was a ruby ring in the shape of a heart, a lavender lace parasol, perfumes from France, spices from the Orient, a yellow songbird in a golden cage from the Indies, and a diamond necklace to replace the one she had sent back to Garnet. And, she glanced in the mirror appreciatively, this handsome new outfit all the way from Paris.
Desirée felt as if she were being courted by her own husband, and she loved every minute of it. In return, she lavished him with the sweetest kind of attention. Garnet had told her that men were creatures of habit, but even so they enjoyed being surprised. This proved the most exciting part of the whole adventure for Desirée. Her writer's mind was ever busy, thinking up new and unexpected ways to please her lover.
And surprise him she would tonight!
Desirée glanced at her dinner menu to finish making out her shopping list—oysters on the half shell, gumbo that was now cooking in the big black pot in the kitchen, a roast of venison, broiled sea bass, tiny potatoes in butter and parsley sauce, and finally a special raspberry trifle made from her mother's own recipe. Her mouth was watering even as she picked up her market basket, adjusted her new hat, and headed out of the carriage house. Leda was waiting for her in the courtyard.
"Good morning, Miss Desirée. My, don't you look fetching today!"
Desirée felt "fetching" in the new outfit Roman had brought her the night before. She turned to give Leda the full effect of the tight-waisted, high-necked coatdress, at the same time cocking her head to show off the matching, ostrich-plumed hat. Then she raised her skirt to reveal her red stockings and shiny black pumps.
"Dr. St. Vincent says this is the very latest color from France. It's called 'Buffalo red.' And he informed me that no well-dressed Parisian lady would dream of wearing this shade without stockings to match."
Leda covered a giggle with her hand, then smiled her approval of the naughty bright stockings, the dark, rich shade of the gown, and the swirls of black velvet trim down the front panel.
"That man sure likes to see his lady look fine! Poor Miss Courtney never wore nothing but house dresses. But then, she never went out nowhere to dress up like you do, ma'am."
Until that moment, none of the servants had ever mentioned Roman's first wife in Desirée's presence. She hadn't given it a thought before, but now her curiosity was aroused. Just how much did Leda know about the former Mrs. St. Vincent?
"You were with my husband when his first wife was alive, Leda?"
Leda ducked her head, aware suddenly that she had let a forbidden subject slip. "Yes, ma'am. I been with the doctor since before he was married. My ma and pa worked for his folks."
"Were you with her the night she died?"
Leda looked stricken and quickened her pace, moving a little ahead of her mistress.
Desirée caught up quickly. "Leda, did you hear me? I asked you a question."
"Yes, ma'am, I heard. But you see, Dr. St. Vincent don't like us talking about all that."
"I promise you, I won't repeat anything you say. But I need to know." She fastened a pleading gaze on the servant. "You understand, don't you?"
Leda stopped on the banquette, seeming to consider how much she should tell Desirée. After a moment, she turned to face her. Her features were an odd mask of fear and confusion.
"Miss Desirée, I ain't never told no one the whole truth about that night, not even my own daughter, Adelé. I don't see as how it can do no good to talk about it now. But if you really want to hear, it sure would be a relief to me to get it out after all these years."
Tears were gathering in the woman's eyes. Desirée had never seen her look so upset. Usually, Leda was the picture of calm. At times, Desirée imagined her incapable of any emotions at all.
"Leda, I would be very grateful if you would tell me about that night. Tell me anything you like about Miss Courtney. Whatever you have to say will stay strictly between the two of us. You have my word on it."
As the two women walked slowly up Decatur Street toward the French market, Leda poured out her tale.
"You know how she was, sick all the time, always in her bed." Desirée nodded. "Well, she wasn't as bad off as she pretended. No, ma'am, she wasn't! Whenever her husband left the house, Miss Courtney was up and primping, quick as you please. She never went out, but right there at home she _entertained_."
Desirée frowned, not understanding the emphasis Leda put on the word until the woman went on.
"There was one man came all the time. Seemed like he knew just when the doctor would be out. It was almost like he kept watch on the house. Of course, none of us was supposed to know about him calling on her. I reckon most folks figure their servants are deaf, dumb, and blind. Just to make sure we didn't know what was going on, Miss Courtney'd send us out to the servants' quarters early, so we was gone from the house before he arrived. But I didn't feel right about leaving her all alone in the house. See, Dr. St. Vincent always told me that it was _my_ job to look out for her when he wasn't home. So I'd stay out in the courtyard, where I could see her window and hear should she call me."
Desirée experienced a peculiar, uneasy feeling growing inside her. What was Leda saying? Had Courtney not been ill at all, but only pretended her infirmity in order to punish Roman? What kind of woman would do such a thing?
"This man, Leda, did you know who he was?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am! That was the worst part of it. See, he come around regular even when Dr. St. Vincent was at home. Then he said he was coming to see him. And they'd sit in the library and drink brandy and laugh and play cards. They was the best of friends, or so the doctor thought. Sometimes Miss Courtney would join them, but not often. Mostly she'd claim she was too sick to see company. At least when her husband was there."
"And when Dr. St. Vincent was not at home?"
"Well, then she was a different person. One of the devil's own! And there wasn't nothing I could do, ma'am, 'cause servants ain't supposed to see or hear a thing that goes on in the house, like I said. And I positively couldn't have told the doctor anyway. It would have killed him to know how his wife was carrying on!"
Desirée caught the other woman's arm and said firmly, "Leda, you have yet to tell me exactly what she was doing. Please, I must know!"
Leda's voice dropped to a whisper as she answered, "Well, ma'am, it ain't the sort of thing a lady should even hear about. But I can tell you, sure as anything, why she killed herself. Maybe that'll explain what she'd been doing."
Desirée's heart was racing. Was it possible that she was about to find the key to her husband's years of unhappiness and self-recrimination? The thought both thrilled and frightened her.
"Are you telling me, Leda, that her unhappy marriage wasn't the reason she took her own life?"
Leda laughed, but without humor. "If that marriage was unhappy, it was all _her_ doing! She didn't want no part of her husband from the start. She married Dr. St. Vincent out of pure spite, to get even with... with life and fate, I reckon. Never did I see such a bitter human being as that woman was. She'd been the belle of New Orleans when she was younger, queen of one of the Carnival balls. Every young man in the city was after her, even though they all knew she was promised already. People still talk about how she used to wear out a dozen pairs of dancing slippers a week. Then when she took ill, it all stopped for her. No more parties, no more balls. All her beaus except for Dr. St. Vincent deserted her. She was just a poor sick girl, pitied instead of loved. She took to hating everybody and everything. And after the doctor said he was willing to marry her just the same, she accepted him, but for all the wrong reasons. After the wedding, she took to hating her husband most of all."
Desirée was confused. If Courtney had thrived so on her hatred, it seemed the last thing she would have done was kill herself. Most bitter people she'd known in her life refused to give up their macabre hold on life no matter what. Causing other people misery became their own twisted form of happiness.
"Why did she do it, Leda?" Desirée demanded.
"'Cause I wouldn't help her. So, I reckon, in a way it was all my fault," Leda answered miserably.
"Leda, don't say such a thing!" Desirée scolded gently. This woman, she had learned, was the kindest, most understanding servant in Roman's household. It was unthinkable that she might have contributed in any way to Courtney's death.
"Well, it seems like there must have been something I could have done to stop it, ma'am."
"Stop what, Leda? Explain to me what happened."
Leda sighed deeply and continued. "She never let the doctor come to her like a wife ought to. They slept separate from the start."
_Except for that first night!_ Desirée added silently.
"And when she found out she was with child, she called me in and said, 'Leda, you go to that voodoo woman, Marie Laveau, and you get me a gris-gris so's I can get rid of this baby!"
Desirée gasped softly. This was the last thing she would have thought of.
"Well, I wouldn't do it!" Leda exclaimed. "She threatened me. She took a switch to me. She yelled and she cried. But there wasn't no way I was going to do such a thing, and she knew she couldn't make me. So, one night her gentleman friend come to call. I was out in the courtyard, and I heard an awful row up in the bedroom. I didn't know what to do. Had I known where the doctor was that night, I'd have run to fetch him home. But I didn't have any idea where he'd gone. After a time, things got real quiet up in her room. Then I heard the front door slam. I went in, and there she was. Hanged herself, she had, the minute that man left."
Desirée's mind was whirling. What a different person _this_ Courtney was from the "poor, dear" woman Roman had described to her. Was it possible for a man to take a wife and never really know her? Apparently so. Roman certainly had never known this side of Courtney. When he found out the truth... She sagged suddenly. She couldn't tell him. She had promised Leda. Even if she tried to explain his wife's death and the reasons for it, wouldn't he in all likelihood refuse to believe her? After all, he had known Courtney; she had not. Would Roman take Leda's word for what had happened even if she did tell him? Probably not!
Then a grim thought came to mind. Courtney had punished the people closest to her during the final years of her life, and she had seen to it that she could go on punishing them even from the grave. What a monster she must have been!
"Leda, are you sure she was pregnant?"
Leda shook her kerchiefed head. "It don't matter what _I_ think. She was sure of it in her own mind. And she knew her husband wasn't the father. But when she told that man and said he had to do something, he just got mad, _ugly mad_! He must have hit her before he left. She had some bad bruises on her face that confounded the doctor. But I knew. I knew it all!"
"You're only guessing that's what happened, Leda." Desirée found she didn't want to believe such a horrible tale.
"No, ma'am! I told you, I was down in the courtyard. It was a hot night, and the windows were open. I heard every bit of what went on between them."
"And the man?"
Leda gave an angry snort. "Oh, he come to the funeral—big as life—all weepy and making out like he was consoling Dr. St. Vincent in his grief. Like they was still the best of friends and all. I never see him today, but my skin starts to crawl, and I feel the bile rising. It takes everything in me to be civil to him, but I do it for the doctor's sake."
"Leda!" Desirée exclaimed. "You don't mean the man still comes here!"
Leda nodded resignedly. "Yessum! Right regular. Just like he always has."
_"Who?"_ Desirée demanded.
"You won't tell Dr. St. Vincent?" Leda pleaded with tear-wet eyes. "You promised you wouldn't say nothing!"
"I won't tell my husband," Desirée answered in a steely voice. "What is the man's name, Leda?"
"It's Mr. L'Enfant. He's the one all right!"
Desirée felt breathless when she heard the name, but somehow she wasn't surprised. It was almost as if she had known the answer before she asked. _Yves L'Enfant!_ She'd sensed something sinister in the man from their very first meeting. Roman had told her they went way back. Well, their relationship was far more involved then even Roman knew!
As the two women went about their marketing, Desirée's mind was no longer on the task at hand. Usually, she loved moving among the bright stalls, hearing the sing-song chants of the merchants, watching the curiously dressed Choctaw women as they sold their baskets and dried herbs, sampling a praline here, a rice cake there.
Today, Leda's tale continued troubling her mind. Something more than the ghastly details lingered. It was almost as if she had heard all this even before Leda told her.
Desirée stopped at a vegetable vendor's stall. The vivid reds, greens, and yellows of his wares made a blur of color before her eyes. It seemed like she was viewing the display through a veil of tears. But she wasn't crying. Something else was happening to her. Her mind seemed to be traveling back through time, scenes from the past weeks flipping like the pages of a vividly illustrated book. Suddenly, the movement stopped, and everything around her vanished—all sight and sound. She was no longer in the French Market, but in the parlor of the Arlington. She heard Josie's fearful voice telling her about the father of Ruby's baby, that vicious man who had tried to kill mother and child. Just as quickly, all the pieces fell into place.
_Yves L'Enfant!_
Roman's dead wife was not the only woman he had ruined. Desirée suddenly realized that Courtney St. Vincent hadn't committed suicide at all!
But how would she ever convince Roman of that?
Desirée shouldered her way through the crowd in the market, searching for Leda. She found her on the dock beside one of the red-sailed boats of the oyster fleet, haggling with the captain over his catch. Quickly, Desirée told her servant that she had an important errand. She advised Leda to complete their purchases and pay one of the delivery boys to help carry everything home.
"I won't be long," Desirée told her. "You see to the preparations until I get there, Leda."
The servant barely had time to nod her agreement before Desirée hailed a passing hack and climbed in.
"Where to, ma'am?" asked the driver.
"Take me to the office of the _Mascot_ ," Desirée ordered. "And hurry!"
Ralph Bigelow couldn't have been more surprised or pleased. When Desirée entered his office, he jumped to his feet and clasped her hand warmly, smiling his sincere welcome.
"My dear Mrs. St. Vincent! How good to see you again!"
Desirée offered the man only a brisk nod, making clear that she was here on business. She got straight to the heart of the matter.
"Mr. Bigelow, I need your help."
"Anything, Madame! Anything at all! What can I do for you?"
Desirée took the seat the editor offered and leaned forward as she began explaining her plight. "You've been in the newspaper business here in New Orleans for many years. You must know something about almost everyone in the city. I need some background information on Yves L'Enfant. Anything—whether it appeared in print or might be only rumor that you may have heard in passing. Do you know the man?"
Bigelow's shaggy brows arched. Who in New Orleans didn't know Yves L'Enfant—erstwhile planter, gambler, womanizer, bag man for Lulu White, _and_ a close associate of many of the most prominent men in the city, including Dr. Roman St. Vincent! L'Enfant came of fine old Creole stock on his mother's side. His father, however, had been a scoundrel, spending more of his time gambling and wenching on the Mississippi riverboats than staying at home to look after his plantation and his wife and son. When the boy was not yet in his teens, the father was killed in a barroom shoot-out for cheating at cards. The mother had done the best she could with the boy, but he'd grown up wild. He seemed to carry the rebellious blood of the father in his veins rather than taking after his strong but gentle mother.
Bigelow told Desirée of L'Enfant's early life.
"What about his later years?" Desirée demanded. "When did he come to New Orleans?"
Bigelow grimaced slightly. He didn't relish getting into a lot of sordid details with a lady, but, after all, Desirée St. Vincent was an exceptional female. He could talk to her as frankly as if she were a man.
"L'Enfant deserted his ailing mother. He left her to run the plantation all by herself. He was about seventeen then, I reckon. That was when he and your husband became acquainted through one of the gentlemen's clubs in the city. An unlikely pair they were, too! The young doctor was quiet and serious, while L'Enfant was only interested in raising hell!" Bigelow coughed nervously. "Pardon my language, ma'am."
Desirée nodded, indicating that he should continue.
"If it hadn't been for Dr. St. Vincent, I doubt L'Enfant would have lasted a month in the city. Likely, he would have wound up down in the swamp with his money gone and his head bashed in. He was as wild as they come and had no sense at all about surviving in a wide open town like New Orleans. But the two men met that very first week, and your husband sort of took him under his wing. I guess it was a case of opposites attracting. Still, even with the doctor's good influence, L'Enfant found more than his share of trouble."
"What sort of things was Yves L'Enfant involved in?" Desirée wanted more specifics than Mr. Bigelow seemed willing to offer.
Bigelow avoided direct eye contact. "Well, ma'am, it was mostly problems with women. Just like his daddy, as I said! He was called out a couple of times for pistols at dawn on the sandbar out in the river. Dr. St. Vincent acted as his second on one occasion. It was a nasty affair. The man was the father of six children, six orphans after L'Enfant put a bullet through his head."
"And the cause of their quarrel?" Desirée asked.
"The children's poor mother. Her husband came home unexpectedly from a business trip and found his wife and L'Enfant in, well, a compromising situation. The two men met on the very morning of the poor woman's funeral. So, by the end of that fateful day, those six children had neither mother nor father."
"I don't understand." Desirée was frowning, trying to piece the story together from Bigelow's sparse details. "What happened to the woman?"
Ralph Bigelow shook his head sadly. "Nasty business, as I said! The woman left home immediately after her husband found her with L'Enfant. She came straight to one of the bordellos here in the city, a house run by a woman called Gertie Livingston. I talked to the woman only a few days after she left her husband. It was like interviewing a ghost. She'd been a beautiful, carefree woman once. But in only days she had changed drastically. When I saw her in that house, she was thin and pale and sick. I tried to talk her into seeing a doctor. I'll never forget what she answered: 'I'm dead already,' she said. 'I died the day Yves L'Enfant made a whore of me.'"
Desirée's hand went to her breast. Her heart was racing. "How dreadful!" she murmured.
"It was that!" Bigelow agreed. "But the worst of it was that she'd been a good wife, a wonderful mother. Until _he_ came along! Her misery didn't last much longer, though. Poor woman, she was the first victim of the Red-light Ripper. Her body was found back of the cemetery the very day after I talked to her."
Desirée had heard enough. She stood up to leave. "Mr. Bigelow, I need back copy of each paper that mentions Yves L'Enfant or women in the city who have committed suicide—including my husband's first wife. How soon can you have them for me?"
"A day or two, Mrs. St. Vincent. But what are you planning to do with all this information?"
Until a moment before, Desirée hadn't been sure herself. But now she answered firmly. "I'm going to expose Yves L'Enfant for the sort of villain he truly is!"
On the way out, almost as an afterthought, Mr. Bigelow handed Desirée a copy of the latest _Mascot_. "Your story about Garnet Gold's on page two. It's a good piece. Makes the reader really understand and feel for the women of Storyville."
Folded between pages two and three of the paper, Desirée found an envelope containing her payment for the article. She smiled at Ralph Bigelow. "Thank you!" she said quietly. "But you won't have to pay me next time. Your help is all I ask in return for my writing."
Roman checked his pocket watch for the fourth time in a half hour. Twenty to six. He knew Desirée had expected him home over an hour ago. She was planning a birthday party for him. Sitting here beside Garnet's mother, he didn't feel much like celebrating. The chill air of these past nights had aggravated the congestion in her lungs. The poor woman was once again struggling to hold on to life.
"Doctor, hadn't you better be leaving?" Adelé, Leda's lovely daughter, had tiptoed into the room without his hearing her. "I know what to do for her. And I'll send for you if she gets worse."
Roman checked his patient's pulse, felt her forehead, and tucked the coverlet more securely about her. "I suppose you're right, Adelé. She's sleeping. There's nothing more I can do at the moment."
Adelé was already holding his cape for him. Roman slipped it on and said a quiet good night.
Out on the street, the air smelled clean and its crispness proved bracing. He breathed deeply and felt some of the weariness clear from his brain. He even allowed a smile to steal over his face. Today was his birthday, after all. He had a right to smile over turning thirty-three. There had been times in his life when he'd doubted he would make it this far. But things were good now. His smile vanished suddenly. _Almost too good!_ He never trusted Fate when she treated him this well!
As he walked along through the fine mist of November rain, his mind was busy, sorting out these past few weeks. He adored his wife. And their marriage seemed to be working. She was also the one thorn in his side. Granted, she made a charming mistress, but he wanted her back as his real wife! And the sooner the better!
Perhaps, if the evening with his friends went well, he could bring up the subject after the others left. Surely, as a special birthday gift to him, Desirée would give up her carriage house apartment and come back to him where she belonged. He quickened his step as excitement gripped him. Yes, it would work! How could Desirée refuse him on his birthday?
A newsboy stood on the corner of Bourbon and Esplanade hawking his papers. Roman dug in his pocket and flipped a nickel to the lad.
"Much obliged, Doc!" the scruffy urchin said, and handed Roman a copy of the _Mascot_ , fresh off the press.
With a smile, Roman started to tuck the paper under his arm, secure in the knowledge that his wife had given up her journalistic career. But when a gust of wind caught the paper, blowing it open to the second page, his eyes caught a familiar byline: "The Yankee Schoolmarm."
Roman stopped and scanned the column with angry eyes. An interview with Garnet in an all too familiar style. Worse than that—an artist's rendering of Desirée herself, handcuffed to the stairs of the Arlington, captioned, "Yankee Schoolmarm Tries to Free White Slaves" was prominently displayed in the center of the page!
A red haze of anger fogged Roman's vision as he ran the rest of the way home. How could she do this to him? She had promised him! Well, she could stay in her carriage house! he decided.
When he neared the house, Roman saw one of his fellow physicians just turning into the drive. His heart sank. There would be no time for a confrontation with Desirée. He would have to act as if nothing had happened. It was going to be a long evening.
As he opened the door, Desirée was there to meet him. At the first sight of her, his anger turned to a much more stirring emotion. Silk lace as fine as newly-spun cobwebs, as warm in color as fresh cream, clung to her proud breasts, caressed her tiny waist, and strained gently over her rounded hips before flaring to a sweep of frothy waves about her shapely ankles. Her dark hair, piled high in an intricate coiffure of braids and curls, twinkled with diamond-studded combs, matching the sparkle of the precious gems at her throat. Her smile welcomed him, warmed him, made love to him even as they stood staring at each other with their guests looking on.
Roman could barely control himself. He had the sudden urge to order his wife to the library immediately, lock the doors against their guests, then slowly unwind the delicate web that hid her gloriously soft flesh from his most intimate exploration.
"Darling," she whispered, "I won't scold you for being late. It's your birthday. You may do whatever you like, whenever you wish."
_What an invitation!_ Roman's pulses were racing his imagination. Both seemed to be soaring like birds in flight. _Whatever_... _whenever_... she'd said. His gaze locked for a moment on the gentle rise and fall of her breasts. His mouth went dry, then began to water. He felt his blood coursing downward.
_Now, now, now!_ his brain kept drumming. Slowly, he reached out a hand to touch her shoulder. Her flesh felt warm and silky. The exotic scent of some tropical flower engulfed him as he drew her closer. Closer, closer, closer...
"Ah, there you are at last, Roman my boy!"
The booming voice of Dr. Adolfus Jardine came like a cannon shot in the stillness of the hallway. Roman jerked away from Desirée, his hand sliding down the full length of her bare arm before it fell limply to his side.
"We'd begun to wonder what bit of fluff on the wrong side of town was keeping the Saint of Storyville from his own birthday celebration." Dr. Jardine, a portly man in his late fifties, grabbed Roman's hand and pumped exhaustingly. "You remember the little woman, of course."
Mrs. Mahalia Jardine scurried up to offer Roman her congratulations. She was, indeed, a "little woman," barely coming to Desirée's shoulder, but almost as round as she was tall. Tonight it was difficult to distinguish where all those purple taffeta ruffles left off and Mahalia herself began.
"Roman dear, we've just been having the loveliest chat with your darling _new_ wife!" Mahalia oozed.
Even standing a few feet away from Desirée, Roman could feel her bristling at Mrs. Jardine's choice of words. Already he knew this was not going to be the relaxing evening he had longed for. He must do something to warn Desirée off before she let fly with something shocking.
"I'm glad Desirée has entertained you so well, Mrs. Jardine. But if you will excuse us for a few moments, I have to change, and I need my wife's help tying my cravat. I'm all thumbs with such things."
Roman gripped Desirée's arm and propelled her upstairs before she could make any comment. Once they were safely in their bedroom, Roman closed the door and leaned his back against it, expelling a long, relieved breath.
"Just what was all that about, darling?" Desirée's words came out with a laugh. "I've never known you to have difficulty with your cravat!"
From the bright twinkle in her eyes, Roman knew she expected him to make a grab for her and engage her in a bit of amorous play before they returned to their guests. That was not his intention.
His tone deadly serious, he tossed the newspaper on the bed and said, "For one thing, _this_!"
Desirée gasped in horror. "Roman, I was going to tell you all about it...."
He cut her off. "There's no time to discuss it now. I brought you up here to explain that you _must_ watch what you say tonight, Desirée."
_"Me?"_ she protested.
"Yes, my darling wife, _you_! I saw the look in your eyes when Mrs. Jardine made her comment just now. You were ready to take her apart, ruffle by ruffle. I won't have it! They are guests in our home and my closest associates. Their wives will no doubt be testing you tonight. You must hold your temper at all costs. I won't have any sort of display during dinner. Is that understood?"
Desirée was boiling. How dare he warn her to behave? She knew how to act with finer people than that... _doctor's wife_ downstairs! She forced herself to remain calm. It was clear that Roman had more on his mind than keeping peace at the dinner table. The _Mascot_ was the key to his unreasonable temper. Before the night was over, she would have a good deal of explaining to do. She only hoped she could make him understand her reasons for going against his wishes.
Casting her gaze down, Desirée said quietly, "I will not allow our guests to upset me, Roman. Nor do I plan to say or do anything to upset them." She looked up at him then, her eyes aglitter and her lips unsmiling. "It's your birthday, darling. I want you to enjoy it."
Maybe it was the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes or it might have been the tremor in her voice as she gave in to him. Whatever the cause, Roman felt his anger melting away, then boiling up again in the purest form of desire. Quickly, he took Desirée into his arms, brushing aside the cobweb lace at her breast with trembling fingers. He cupped the warm flesh of her breast in his eager hand while he captured her lips in a long, searching, soul-deep kiss.
Roman released her, saying, "Now, go down to our guests. I'll join you shortly." Desirée found herself trembling and flushed.
How she would get through the rest of this evening, she had no idea. But she was Roman's wife, and she would not disgrace him!
###
# Chapter Eighteen
Dinner was a trial for Desirée. Besides the Jardines, three other couples made up the party of ten, all doctors and their ladies. Thank goodness, Roman had decided against inviting Yves L'Enfant. Her husband had said, "He just doesn't mix well with my professional friends." Roman's former wife's lover was the last person Desirée wanted to see tonight.
Desirée let her gaze wander as she toyed with a tender morsel of sea bass. Their guests were an odd lot, no doubt about it!
Dr. Walter Borgland and his wife, Velda, were both in their thirties—he a lean, serious man with a balding pate, and she a flashy, garrulous type with hennaed hair and quick, green eyes that seemed to flirt with every man at the table at the same time. But, of course, Desirée noted, Velda showered Roman with most of her vampish attention, because it was his birthday and he was by far the most attractive man in the room. Desirée pegged Dr. Borgland as long-suffering and Velda as the source of most of his trials. She and this woman would never be friends.
On the other hand, Desirée liked the Crozats tremendously. Dr. Pierre Crozat and Pauline, his wife of over thirty years, were a cozy, comfortable, white-haired pair. She liked to imagine that she and Roman would be like the Crozats sometime in the future. Pierre and Pauline responded cordially when addressed, but Desirée noticed that most of their communication remained between the two of them, and they needed no words—only a look, a smile, a nod—to convey their meaning to one another. They both seemed to accept Roman's marriage to Desirée with an attitude of "high time" and "God bless."
The other doctor was very young, not much older than Desirée, and his fiancée was still in her dewy-eyed teens. Dr. Rubin Winngard, Desirée decided in short order, was full of himself!
The soon-to-be Mrs. Winngard was the only person at the table more uncomfortable than Desirée. Poor pretty little thing, Desirée mused. Lorraine Vaudier was pinned along with Desirée under the doctors' wives' microscope, and there the two of them squirmed and wriggled, sharing the evening's agony as they answered numerous, pointed questions.
The dinner seemed endless. How Desirée longed for the moment when she could rise, signaling that the time had come for the women to adjourn to the parlor so that the men could enjoy their cigars and brandy in masculine peace! But she dreaded that moment, too. Once the women had her to themselves—especially Mahalia Jardine and Velda Borgland—there was no guessing what sort of trials they might put her through.
"Have you made your plans yet for New Year's Eve, Mrs. St. Vincent?"
Desirée's head jerked to her right to find Velda's snake-green eyes on her. Apparently, while Desirée had allowed her mind to wander, the conversation had moved on from Dr. Winngard's latest diatribe to this new topic. She turned to Roman, seeking his help. He only frowned at her obvious lack of attentiveness.
"New Year's Eve?" Desirée said pleasantly. "Why, I hadn't given it a thought this soon!"
_"Wonderful!"_ Velda cried, fluttering her bejeweled hands excitedly. "Then it's all settled! You and Roman _must_ come with us to the French Ball!"
"My dear," the red-head's husband interrupted, "I haven't decided yet..."
Velda put on a pretty pout. "Oh, Walter! Don't be such an old fuddy-duddy! Of course we've decided, and certainly the St. Vincents will join us. Why, even Mahalia has agreed that it's a fine idea! All the right people will be there." Velda arched a shapely brow and glanced around the table, then gave a throaty laugh. "All the _wrong_ people, too, of course! That's what makes it so much fun! The theme this year will be the 'Scarlet Carnival.' Everyone's to dress up as if for Mardi Gras."
Desirée stared at the woman. Obviously, she was the only person at the table who had no idea what Velda was talking about, but she didn't dare reveal her ignorance by asking.
Desirée glanced at Roman. His frown had deepened. What had she done wrong _now?_
"Mrs. Borgland," he began, but she cut him off.
"Oh, Roman, how many times have I told you?" The flashy woman reached out to touch his hand as she spoke. " _Do_ call me Velda! _Everyone_ does!"
Desirée could think of a few other things she'd like to call the woman! She felt her temper rising. She was sure Velda would be drooling all over her fish any moment now. The way she was gazing at Roman was nothing short of an invitation to adultery. Quickly, Desirée rang her silver dinner bell, signaling Jules and Leda to clear for the next course. The bustling servants proved an ample distraction.
Roman resumed his conversation. "Velda, I really don't approve of these so-called French Balls. It's fine if the women of Storyville wish to attend such affairs. But I can't imagine going myself, and as for taking my wife..." He broke off and glanced at Desirée. A shudder ran through him as a picture of that poor dead girl flashed into his mind. He shook his head. "No, I'm sorry!" The murderer who preyed upon the women of the district had been on his mind lately. With a killer on the loose, going to Storyville on a lark wasn't simply improper for these ladies, it was downright foolhardy! They would be placing themselves in great danger simply by entering that part of town.
Now it was Mahalia Jardine's turn to try her chubby hand at persuasion. "Really, Roman, Velda is right. The best people in the city will be there. Mingling with the lower classes has become quite the thing to do these days. Why, the French Ball is _the_ place to be this New Year's Eve! With a new century upon us, we owe it to ourselves to celebrate in grand style."
Roman looked to Mahalia's husband for support, but Dr. Jardine only chuckled. "Sounds like an intriguing idea to me, my boy. Think of it, mixing and mingling with the doxies of the district for an entire evening, and _with_ our wives' approval. Besides, everyone will be masked, so you won't be recognized. Mahalia and I will be there in the thick of the fun. Won't you and Desirée join us? Be a sport, Roman!"
Young Dr. Winngard, eagerly seeking the head surgeon's approval, chimed in, "We're game, aren't we, Lorraine?"
His ladylove smiled up at him adoringly and nodded. "Whatever you say, Rubin." She sighed deeply and added, almost to herself, "We'll be married by then."
"There, you see!" Velda exclaimed. "Roman, you and Desirée are the only holdouts in the group." Velda Borgland's "group" obviously did not include the Crozats, whom she had yet to invite.
"My dear, I still haven't said we'd go!" Walter Borgland's attempted protest went unheard and unanswered by his wife.
"Where is this Scarlet Carnival to be held?" Desirée ventured.
Velda was quick to reply. "It will be at Tom Anderson's Saloon. The French Balls are a tradition in New Orleans, as much as the balls of Comus, Proteus, or Rex." She leaned close and whispered to Desirée, "But these affairs aren't sponsored by any regular social club like those other grand soirées. It's supposed to be a big secret who's in charge—'Two well-known Gentlemen,' the invitations say. However, the identity of those gentlemen is no great secret. Tom Anderson and Frank Lamothe, two of the district's most notorious businessmen. And a pair of handsome devils, they are!"
_"My dear!"_ Walter Borgland came half out of his chair in protest.
To avert a nasty domestic row, Roman quickly changed the subject. Soon everyone was involved in a more cordial debate over which tenor had sung better at the French Opera House the week before. Desirée's raspberry trifle was served, after which the ladies made a speedy exit to the petite salon.
During the next trying hour, Desirée volunteered her services with the Physicians' Wives' Auxiliary under Mahalia Jardine's strong prodding, agreed to attend Lorraine and Rubin's wedding in early December, and successfully managed to keep Velda off the subject of the upcoming French Ball.
Of all people, it was Pauline Crozat who offered Desirée her worst moment, by saying, "My dear, I understand you're a writer."
There was no viciousness in her tone, but dear, white-haired Pauline might just as well have slapped Desirée in the face. Of all the subjects she'd wanted to avoid tonight, her writing headed the list. Surely, none of these women knew about her column in the _Mascot_! Desirée sent up a silent prayer.
"Why, yes, Mrs. Crozat." Desirée's voice was surprisingly steady. "I keep a journal, making entries each day. Perhaps someday my children will enjoy reading it. But I suppose it's mainly a selfish effort. My writing seems almost a compulsion. I have so many thoughts and ideas, I simply have to put some of them on paper or there would be no room left in my brain." She smiled and confessed, "I suppose like most writers, my goal is to someday write a book."
The elderly woman nodded. "That's fine, dear. I've often wished I had kept a record of all these years. It would be such a pleasure now to go back and read about the happy times." She reached over and patted Desirée's arm. "You must keep up your good work! You'll write that book. I just know you will."
Desirée's heart was still fluttering when Dr. Jardine appeared at the door and caught her eye. "Desirée, dear lady, this evening has been a total pleasure! Mahalia and I can't thank you enough for your hospitality. You'll be hearing from us soon."
Roman, standing behind the rotund physician, beamed at his wife. Desirée felt a warm glow within. She'd done it! Dr. Jardine's approval was all important. He was the bellwether of the New Orleans Medical Society. When Mahalia Jardine embraced Desirée in a warm farewell, she knew the feeling of total triumph.
The door had barely closed behind the last of their guests before Roman, his midnight eyes stormier than usual, caught Desirée's arm and turned her to face him. His approving smile of moments ago had vanished.
Her heart beat faster as she waited for him to speak, trying to construe his puzzling expression. Only minutes before, he had looked so pleased with her. But now it was as if his bright mood had departed with the last of their guests.
"It's been a long evening, Desirée." His voice was no more than a husky whisper. It had, indeed, been long for Roman. He had sensed Desirée's strain for hours. And all through that time, he had experienced his own kind of agony—desiring her, but not having her.
"Yes," she agreed with a weary sigh. "It seemed much longer than it actually was."
"But you carried it off. I'm proud of your talents," he paused, then added, "as a hostess."
Roman's halting compliment left Desirée with an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. It seemed almost as if he'd wanted to add a _but_ to the end of his sentence, as if even though he found her competent in some areas, he considered her lacking in others.
"What's wrong, Roman?"
"Nothing!"
But the way he was looking at her belied his hasty answer. Something was, indeed, wrong. Roman simply didn't want to discuss it. Suddenly, Desirée felt as if she were shouldering the guilt of the universe. Why didn't he just come out and accuse her of whatever transgression he imagined she had committed? Anything would be better than this cool refusal to confront the issue. She couldn't stand the tension. Whatever she'd done to upset him, she could face his anger far easier than she could abide his silent condemnation.
"Roman, I think we need to talk, _really_ talk!"
He took her totally by surprise when he smiled. She had expected him to turn away, to refuse to discuss anything with her at this time of night. But he came to her instead, clasped her hand, and smiled.
"It's warm out tonight," he said. "Shall we have our talk in the courtyard?"
Desirée nodded, stunned at the second sudden change in him since their guests' departure. Maybe he was only trying to soften her up before he gave her a thorough dressing down. She deserved it, she knew. Although she hadn't actually promised him she'd stop writing for the _Mascot_ , she had allowed him to believe she would obey his wishes.
Every step they took toward the courtyard reminded Desirée of the condemned prisoner's walk to the guillotine. _Why_ did she feel so guilt-ridden? It wasn't as if she had taken a lover or done something equally dreadful!
Her own thoughts brought a soft gasp from her lips. Perhaps it wasn't her own guilt she was feeling, but Roman's. She had noticed since their marriage that she could sense his every shift in mood, his every thought, it seemed. Could it be that he needed to talk to her to cleanse his own conscience? The nagging fear that Roman might have someone else came rushing back to torture Desirée.
Roman watched his wife's face change with the shifting emotions she was experiencing. The evening's turmoil had yet to leave her. He realized that Desirée had had every reason to feel nervous tonight. Their dinner guests had put her through hell. Several times he'd wanted to jump in to protect her, especially from that viper-tongued Velda. But he knew that Desirée could handle things herself. She wasn't the type who wanted to be shielded by her husband.
He felt a fierce pride tonight in the woman he'd married. Granted, he had been angry earlier when he saw her article in that scandal sheet, but that whole matter seemed trivial now. There were other things, far more important, that needed his attention.
Roman's gaze strayed over her comely form. There was the matter of that clinging gown she was wearing—the one he'd been removing with his eyes all night long. And there was the other matter—his desire, growing the whole evening until he thought he'd never make it through the long dinner. If he couldn't touch her, kiss her, make love to her soon, he would turn into a wild man!
He smiled at his own thoughts. It was so unlike him, this runaway passion he'd been fighting the whole evening. After all, he was the calm and stable physician, the man who could face the most desperate situation with a level head and a firm hand. But _desperate_ described exactly the way he felt at the moment.
_God, how he wanted her!_
He led her down the back stairs and onto the brick walk that circled the fountain. The moon was on the wane, but still cast a faint glow like liquid silver over the garden. A mist had rolled in from the river, adding to the curious springlike feel and mysterious aura of the darkness. The two of them seemed wrapped in the fog, secluded from the rest of the world in the soft night silence.
Roman led his wife to a wrought iron bench, and they sat down. Desirée, as always, was keenly aware of his warmth. It seemed she could almost feel every breath he took, every beat of his heart. How she loved this man! And how she hated to waste such a perfect night in heated and useless discussion!
Yet it had to be done! She took a deep breath and turned to him.
He spoke before she could. "You wanted to talk, Desirée." Roman decided to let her unwind from the gruelling evening before he put his amorous plan into action. Obviously, there was something lurking between them that Desirée wanted out in the open. "Well, I'm listening," Roman prompted.
A cloud passed over the fading moon. She couldn't see his face. She could only guess what he might be thinking. She steeled herself and said, "About the piece in the _Mascot_ , yes, I wrote it! But, no, I am not sorry! And I can't promise you that I won't go against your wishes again, Roman. I am not a person to be ordered about. When I feel that injustices need to be dealt with, I cannot shirk my responsibilities."
A tense silence followed her speech. She heard Roman shift on the seat beside her, and a space seemed to open up between them. Her heart sank.
"I don't want to argue with you about this, Desirée." His voice was cold and distant. If that's all that was bothering her, he was relieved. He knew he couldn't stop his headstrong wife from doing as she felt she must. It had been foolish of him even to try. "I don't want to discuss that now. You've heard all I have to say on the subject before. As you said, you must do what you must do."
Desirée was so caught up in her own guilt and anguish that his words failed to sink in. Quickly, she snapped, "Don't try to fight me on this, Roman. I've told you how I feel and what I intend to do. If you can't accept that..."
"Don't say it!" he commanded, trying to force down a surge of anger at her shrill tone. He didn't want to fight her, he wanted to _love_ her! Why was she making it so difficult? "I don't enjoy hearing ultimatums from my own wife!"
"Yet you believe that I should listen to yours and abide by your will!" Desirée was caught up in a battle of her own making now. Her voice fairly trembled with fury, and she could not staunch the flow of words.
"I think there are better things we could do here in the moonlight." Roman wanted desperately to silence her. His hand slipped down her shoulder to Desirée's bodice, but she shoved it away and jumped up.
"No, Roman! I will not allow you to end our discussion this way! It solves nothing!"
"It would solve a great deal for me!" Roman shifted uncomfortably. Her anger aroused him further. What had he done to deserve her attack? It didn't matter. Right now he wanted only peace and love.
"You think all you have to do is make me want you physically and all other problems dissolve," Desirée shouted at him. "Well, you thought that with Courtney, too, and you see what happened in that instance!"
Desirée knew the moment the words slipped out that she'd gone too far. She would rather have cut her own throat than say anything that would wound him so deeply. But it was too late.
Abruptly, Roman stood up. Without a word he strode quickly through the darkness toward the house.
"Darling, I'm sorry," Desirée cried. "Please, won't you come up to the apartment?"
He turned, giving her hope. But his words immediately took it away. "For what? I've already let you know what I need tonight. Obviously, you aren't interested. Perhaps someone else will be."
"Roman, no! Please come back!"
Without another word, he disappeared into the house. Desirée stood where he'd left her, feeling drained and alone. Why had she let this happen? She'd meant to talk to him calmly, to make him understand her side of things. Instead, she had rejected him and used his first wife's tragic death against him. And now, he had actually threatened to go to some other woman for the comfort and love she had refused him tonight. She was forcing him to do the very thing she dreaded most. The pain was unbearable. Desirée turned and fled, sobbing, up to the apartment over the carriage house.
Roman stormed into the library and poured himself a stiff drink. He was angry, frustrated, and beyond understanding the events in the garden. By the time he'd finished his second brandy, he had decided it would serve Desirée right if he followed through with his threat. He could have any woman he wanted in Storyville. Garnet came immediately to mind. If Desirée was truly the one he wanted, her double would be the perfect substitute.
As he poured his third brandy, he realized that he didn't want any other woman, he wanted his wife. Still, he couldn't bring himself to go crawling to her door, begging to be let in like some stray mongrel she'd kicked out for soiling the carpet.
Even as Roman paced and fumed, Desirée was alone in her apartment, doing her own soul-searching. She damned herself a thousand times for her incautious words. And to turn him away when he tried to caress her, well, that was the worst crime a wife could commit! It had also been quite stupid, since she'd wanted his touch. Right now, she was aching for it.
"Why do we always do exactly the opposite of what we want?" she demanded of her tear-stained reflection in the mirror.
Disheartened and weary, Desirée undressed, pulling a long, linen gown over her head. After tying the dozen tiny bows that fastened the front, she climbed into bed, praying that sleep would come soon to ease her misery. But instead, she tossed and turned, twisted and kicked. The long gown wound about her uncomfortably. Finally, she climbed out of bed and went to the window, staring down at the empty courtyard.
The moon was almost gone. The fountain and the walk lay in deep, purple shadows. She gazed at the white bench where she and Roman had sat together a short while before. It stood out like some ghostly apparition from the dead past, reminding her of what she had turned away tonight, what she might have lost forever.
Suddenly, the thought was more than she could bear. Roman had not yet come to hitch up his buggy. He was probably changing clothes, perhaps having a drink to bolster himself before he set out on his late night carouse. She decided to stand watch at the window. She would punish herself by viewing his departure. And she would continue her vigil until he returned. It was no more or less than she deserved!
Desirée didn't have long to wait. Only moments later, the back door opened, and she watched Roman's tall figure bound down the stairs. Tears filled her eyes. How carefree he seemed, as if nothing unpleasant had passed between them. But then he had a right to his good spirits. After all, he was about to go to his lover!
The moment that thought struck her, Desirée knew she had to do something. She could not live with the thought that she had sent her own husband running to another woman's arms. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands. She must look a fright, but what did it matter? The darkness would hide her reddened eyes, her tousled hair, and the shabby old gown.
Roman was almost to the stable by the time Desirée flew down the stairs and threw herself into his arms.
"You can't do this!" she cried. "I won't let you, Roman! I love you! I will not allow you to go to another woman!"
The unexpected collision all but knocked the breath from Roman. His hands came up to steady Desirée, and his strong fingers gripped the soft, worn linen of her favorite gown. Desire so sharp it was like physical pain tore through his body.
"Desirée, what are you doing out here in the dark?"
"I came to stop you!" she cried. "Hold me, Roman, just hold me!"
Roman did as she asked, gathering her into his arms and kissing her softly tumbled hair. She sobbed her heart out against his shoulder. The more she cried, the more Roman longed to kiss her tears away... to love away all the sadness from her heart.
"I know I was dreadful to you tonight." Desirée's muffled words came between little gasping sobs. "I don't deserve your love, Roman. It would serve me right if you went to some other woman. But please! _Please!_ Give me one more chance, darling!"
A shocked frown took possession of Roman's face. He started to confess to Desirée that his words about seeking love elsewhere had been only an idle threat, that he had been coming to her apartment to set things right between them. But she was clinging to him so, clutching at him, seeking his mouth. There was no time for explanations now.
He bent down to meet her anxious lips. Standing there in the dark courtyard, Desirée kissed her husband deeply, with soul-filling thoroughness. Her sobs had subsided, turning to sighs. Her body adhered to his—her soft breasts tight against his chest, her belly flattened to his, one of her legs thrust between his thighs, rubbing gently, maddeningly. Roman's whole body was tingling, burning, aching fiercely for relief.
He shifted Desirée's pliant body in his arms until her head rested upon his right shoulder. Then with his free hand, he slowly began untying the little bows down the front of her gown, opening the soft linen to the softer satin of her bare breasts.
Desirée trembled against him, feeling the light strokes of his fingers as if he were caressing her soul.
"Are you cold, darling?" he whispered, closing the gaping bodice of her gown.
"No!" she gasped. "Don't stop, Roman!"
Roman drew Desirée down to the bench with him once more, but this time there was no discussion between them. She sat in his lap, her arms around his neck, while his hands slowly explored beneath the long gown, searching out her most intimate and sensitive secrets. Desirée's flesh was soon on fire. Roman's touch was enough to start the flame, and the night air caressing her body fanned the first gentle glow to an emotional inferno. She writhed against his pulsing heat, forcing a low moan from his throat.
"You want this, don't you, darling?" Roman gripped her bare thigh, letting his thumb drag slowly across the moist, throbbing spot he knew so well.
Desirée threw her head back, gasping, "Oh, yes, Roman. Yes!"
"And this?" He let his fingers dip deeper.
"Yes-s-s..." Her whispered moan trailed into nothingness.
For a long time, Roman held her, toyed with her, demanded answers to his intimate questions. All the while, he rained featherlike kisses on her face, her throat, her shoulders, and her breasts. Desirée felt as if she had drifted away to some warm, steamy land, where pleasure and desire were the only existing emotions.
Finally, she could take it no longer. "Roman, _please_!" she cried.
He kissed her deeply one last time, then whispered huskily against her ear, "I've been waiting all night for that word, my darling."
Without further ado, he rose, carrying Desirée in his arms, and strode into the carriage house door. Once they were inside the stable, Roman paused, setting Desirée on her feet. She opened her eyes, gazing dreamily up into Roman's shadowed face, wondering why he hadn't taken her up the stairs to the apartment.
"Roman?" she whispered when he continued to stand where he was, no longer touching her. "Aren't we going up?"
He remained silent. His hands moved up her arms to rest on her shoulders, his fingers softly caressing her. The next instant, she knew what he meant to do with her.
"Roman, no!" she gasped. "Not _here_!"
"I take my mistress wherever I please!"
The sleepy black mare eyed them curiously, watching as Roman slipped the gown down over Desirée's shoulders so that her arms were imprisoned at her sides. Her soft gasp of protest gave way to a moan of pleasure, in the silent stable. Closing her eyes again, she leaned back against the mare's stall and let the white-hot fire of longing flow through her as her husband slowly stroked her breasts—first with his hand and then with his tongue.
Had it not been for Roman's firm grip on her waist, Desirée was sure her legs would have given way beneath her. She was overcome by what he was doing, the places he was touching and kissing her, as he eased the linen gown ever so slowly toward the straw-strewn stable floor.
When she felt the soft fabric whisper down over her legs at last, Roman left her for a moment. Her eyes shot open, but the air in the stable was thick and black with deep night. "Roman?" she whispered.
"Here, darling." With his answer came the sulfurous flare of a match. A moment later, the stable glowed with golden lantern light.
It was then that Desirée realized Roman's intent. Nearby, he had spread a blanket over a bed of fresh, sweet hay. Desirée covered her body self-consciously with her arms. She edged away, not sure what to do or where to hide.
"Oh, Roman! We couldn't!" She glanced wildly toward the black horse whose eyes seemed to be trained on her nakedness. Most of the reckless passion she had felt under cover of darkness burned away in the lantern's light. She reached for her gown, but Roman, laughing, snatched it from her.
"Oh, but we _can_ and we _will_ , my darling!"
He tore off his shirt as he came to her. An instant later, she felt the coarse hair of his chest scoring her tender breasts as his lips bruised hers with hungry force. His strong hands cupped her bare buttocks, raising her slightly and holding her close to feel his heat. Quickly, her own temperature rose again, and her body moved sensually against his.
Roman shifted his lips from her mouth to her ear, teasing playfully with his tongue until he forced a moan from her. Then he whispered, "If you were only my wife, Desirée, I'd never think of taking you in a stable. But, remember, darling, you are my mistress, by your own design. As such, you must do whatever it takes to please me." One hand drifted down from her hip and slid between her thighs. "It pleases me tonight to make love to you here, in the hay, by the lantern's glow." The black mare whinnied, and Roman glanced over his shoulder chuckling. "It even pleases me to have that fine animal there looking on, a noble witness to our loving, sweetheart."
When he called her that, all Desirée's resistance melted. She clung to him, as he led her to the waiting blanket. Once they were lying next to each other, Roman took great care to love her slowly. He would bring her to the very brink of ecstasy before he drew away, letting her passion subside before he returned to her lips, her breasts, her trembling thighs.
At times through the long night, Roman was playful with her—nipping, nibbling, laughing at her muffled protests and sighs of pleasure. From time to time, his lips would once more find her ear, kissing and whispering until chills ran through her. The things he said!
"No decent Creole wife would let her man tumble her in the hay, my darling. Only a mistress would do such a thing.... What do you suppose the mare can be thinking? After tonight, I'll have to find a fine stallion to mount her.... Kiss me, sweetheart! Lower, lower, ah, yes! Oh, that's good!"
Desirée made love to her man that night for the first time. Always before, he had taken the lead. But there in the stable, her inhibitions seemed to melt away. It was as if she were some other woman—some wanton, knowing harlot, who lived for nothing beyond the pleasure of the flesh. She kissed Roman as she had never kissed him before. He lay back on the blanket, his arms thrown above his head, while she knelt over him, letting her tongue draw invisible lines over his taut, trembling flesh.
"Now, sweetheart!"
Roman was still stretched out on his back when he gasped his command. Desirée was as ready as he, frantic now for the final act. But what could she do? Why didn't he move?
Roman held out his arms to Desirée and motioned for her to come to him. Suddenly, she realized what he wanted. Her first prim instinct to draw away soon turned to a raw, primitive kind of desire. Needing no instruction from her lover, Desirée straddled his body, letting him glide into place. She gripped his shoulders; he cupped her breasts.
All awkwardness left as he filled her. She rode him expertly, guiding his thrusts with the motion of her hips—faster and faster, deeper and deeper—until it seemed that they were both airborne, no longer earthbound at all.
When she felt the moment of ecstasy approaching, Desirée threw back her head and wailed aloud. It was too soon! But it was too good to last. She could not stop the flood. She could only ride the crest of pleasure and hope that it would move slowly before dashing her back to earth.
Roman, sensing the end was near, sat up suddenly, clinging to Desirée, kissing her deeply. An instant later, they both found whole new worlds of pleasure. Desirée gripped her husband, never wanting the feeling to end.
The black mare stamped restlessly in her stall. The first rays of sunrise inched into the stable and the lantern's light grew dim. Still the two lovers held each other.
Desirée felt as if she had been transformed during the night. Roman had demanded her as his mistress, and she had lovingly complied. But she knew now that what she really wanted was to be his wife. She longed to return to his house, to his bed. She would love him no less passionately, only more.
All that remained was for Roman to ask her to return.
"Darling," she whispered, "shouldn't we go to bed now?"
Roman left off teasing her breasts with a piece of straw and sought her lips. After the kiss, he sighed and said, "Yes. I suppose it wouldn't do to have the stable boy find us here like this."
Roman rose and pulled on his trousers while Desirée held her breath. All he had to do was lead her back into the house, to their bed, where she belonged. Oh, please, Roman, take me back! she begged silently.
When he rose to leave their little nest in the stable, he took Desirée's hand and led her not toward the house, but up the stairs to the apartment.
Desirée felt tears coming. When they reached the door, she didn't look at him, but whispered, "It's dawn, Roman. You'd better go to your own bed."
She waited, hoping he would take the hint and insist that they both go to his bed. Instead, he kissed her cheek, nodded, and left her.
After a flood of tears, weariness set in. Desirée slept, alone, dreaming of that other bed where she longed to lie beside her husband.
###
# Chapter Nineteen
The next few weeks passed by quickly and happily for Desirée. Although she and Roman were still living apart, he came to her nightly and their time together seemed as golden as the beautifully hazy autumn that now wrapped New Orleans in its embrace.
No longer did Roman vanish in his buggy in the evening to return the next day exhausted and silent. Desirée, feeling totally secure in her husband's love, all but forgot about the white shotgun house on Rampart Street and the woman she had imagined he kept there.
Although they lived under separate roofs, to Desirée's way of thinking they were the perfect husband and wife. Perhaps all married couples should have such an arrangement, she mused. It certainly kept the romance alive in their relationship. Yet she still longed to have Roman ask her to return to his home... to his bed. Until they were totally back together again, the tiny ache would remain at the edge of her heart.
Desirée spent those cool November days doing charity work with Mrs. Jardine and the other doctors' wives. She often visited Nanine and Placide and their little daughter. And, surprisingly enough, Garnet kept in touch by telephone, calling every few days to fill Desirée in on the latest tidbits of Storyville gossip for her column.
On the morning of December first, Jules summoned Desirée from her apartment to answer one of Garnet's calls. Desirée found the girl breathless with excitement when she took the phone.
"Well, you aren't going to believe this, dearie!" Garnet began.
"What's happened?"
"You've heard about the French Ball on New Year's Eve?"
"Yes," Desirée said, not mentioning that she and Roman were invited to attend.
"It'll be just like Carnival," Garnet continued excitedly, "with a queen and all. Everyone in the district cast a vote. The final count is in, and you'll never guess who'll wear the crown that night!"
"Who?" Desirée demanded when Garnet paused for dramatic effect.
" _Me!_ That's who! Everybody voted down at Tom Anderson's saloon and, when they tallied up this morning, I won by a landslide. Nothing like this ever happened to me before. Desirée, this is going to be the biggest night of my life!"
Garnet's excitement was contagious. Desirée found herself caught up in it. They talked for a long time about what she should wear, how she should fix her hair, and the usual things women friends discuss before a fancy ball.
"I have to choose a lady-in-waiting. You know, kind of like a maid of honor at a wedding." Garnet paused and giggled. "Wouldn't it be the very trick if I picked you, Desirée! That would set a few tongues wagging!"
Desirée laughed along with her. What a picture the two of them would present at the ball, looking so much alike that no one could tell which was the real queen. Then she shuddered slightly, realizing how furious Roman would be with both of them.
"I don't think that would be such a good idea, Garnet," Desirée cautioned.
"Oh, I know. But it sure would be a kick! Of course, then you and Roman would have to come to the ball, and he wouldn't even consider that. A lot of the hoity-toity folks'll show up slumming, but Roman's not that kind. I'm glad. Those others just come to laugh at us anyway. Well, maybe we'll have a little surprise in store for them this time!"
"What kind of surprise, Garnet?"
"Never you mind! It wouldn't do for the queen to be telling tales on her subjects!"
Desirée didn't press for an answer, but went back to the original problem. "Who will you choose as your lady-in-waiting, Garnet?"
A brief silence followed as Garnet thought the matter through. "Remember Evangeline? You met her that day you visited."
Desirée thought for a moment. "Oh, yes! The pretty girl from Vermillion Parish with the copper-colored hair and those great sad golden eyes."
"Yeah, the one that was raised white, then got kicked off her land when her folks died, and the law found out she was 'creole' with a small c instead of a capital letter. I think she'd be a good one, don't you? And it might lift her spirits some."
Desirée's heart gave a painful ache as she thought of the rest of Evangeline's story. The shyster lawyer who had come to the young girl's aid after her parents' deaths in a carriage accident had been no help at all. Thanks to him, she'd lost everything, including her virginity. Thrown out of her home, she arrived in New Orleans penniless and pregnant with his child. Lulu White had taken her in until she was delivered of the stillborn baby. After that, Evangeline had decided to stay on.
With a twinge of pain, Desirée remembered the girl's heart-wrenching words exactly: "What else could I do? I was raised in a white world that no longer accepts me. I don't belong anywhere, except at Mahogany Hall."
"Evangeline is a fine choice, Garnet. And you're right, it's sure to lift her spirits. I don't think I've ever met a sadder human being than that girl."
"Well, she won't be sad come New Year's Eve!" Garnet replied, obviously pleased with her decision and with Desirée's approval.
The conversation lagged for a moment. Desirée wanted desperately to ask Garnet about the Red-light Ripper—how the women in Storyville could stand the tension of knowing the killer was still on the loose... if any of them might be able to guess at the murderer's identity... but she hated to alter the upbeat tone of their conversation with such a distressing topic.
Garnet took the matter out of Desirée's hands when she piped up, asking, "Can you guess who's escorting me to the ball?"
Desirée thought for a moment, then answered, "Not in a thousand years, I'm afraid."
Garnet laughed. "No, I don't suppose you'd know. Well, I'll tell you, then. None other than Commissioner Patrick Sullivan!"
The name rang only a vague bell with Desirée. There were still large portions of her evening at Mahogany Hall that were blessedly missing from her memory. Commissioner Sullivan was hidden away in one of those gaps.
"I don't believe I know the gentleman," Desirée replied, "but you certainly seem pleased."
"Oh, that I am!" Garnet purred. "I told you about him, remember? Sully's a dear man, and he's been paying special attention to me lately. I think, if I were the type to fall in love, he might be the first in line for my affections. After Roman, that is!"
They both laughed. The tension had eased between them these past weeks. Desirée felt secure in her husband's love, and Garnet finally seemed to realize that Roman was out of her reach forever.
"Garnet, are you serious about this man? Is there any chance he might lure you away to a different life?"
Desirée held her breath, hoping against hope that Commissioner Sullivan might be her friend's ticket out of Storyville. Granted, color lines would keep them from marrying, but even if Patrick Sullivan took Garnet away from Mahogany Hall to make her his mistress, her lot would be much improved.
"I'm serious, all right, Desirée!" Garnet assured her. "So serious, in fact, that I turned Yves L'Enfant down when he asked to escort me. I was hoping Sully would come through. And he did!"
Desirée frowned into the telephone. The very name Yves L'Enfant set her on edge. She hadn't seen him lately. Roman had mentioned that he was upriver at his plantation, Black Oak. It was fine with Desirée if the man stayed upriver forever!
"I didn't know he was in town," Desirée said quietly.
"Oh, yes! He came back last week. He's always in New Orleans for the holiday season. He'll be at the French Ball for sure. I just hope he doesn't start any trouble when he sees me with Sully. He does have a nasty temper!"
"So I've heard," Desirée replied grimly.
Garnet, attuned to her friend's tone, tried to reassure her. "Don't you worry about it! I'm certainly not going to let him spoil my big evening. If he gets out of hand, I'll just have Big Harry show him the door. After all, the queen's word is law that night."
"Well, just be careful, Garnet," Desirée cautioned. "I dont trust Yves L'Enfant. There's something about him..."
"I know just what you mean! He's almost like two different people. At times, he's as sweet as can be, wouldn't hurt a fly. But then he can turn on you for no reason at all. There was a time I was really crazy about him. I thought sure him and me... Well, that's all in the past now. I don't think he ever gave a damn about me, really, or any other woman for that matter. But he sure can be a charmer when he sets his mind to it."
Desirée felt a cold shiver run down her spine. "He's _never_ charmed me!"
Garnet laughed. "Who could, and you married to the biggest charmer in the world?"
Shortly after that the two women said their good-byes. As Desirée hung up the receiver, she made her decision. She and Roman _would_ attend the French Ball! Since the night of the dinner party, the subject had not come up again. She knew that Roman was against their going but when he found out that Garnet was to be the queen of the ball, surely he would want to see her triumph.
Yves L'Enfant was, indeed, back in town, and for the past week he had taken up watching the St. Vincent house, as he had when he and Courtney were lovers. Ah, what a fool he'd made of the good doctor!
It served him right, L'Enfant mused with a smirk, after the way Roman had stepped in so nobly, agreeing to many Courtney even though she was a near invalid, wrecking his own plans. It would have been a perfect marriage for him, he reminded himself. He'd needed Courtney's money and the connections their alliance would have provided. Courtney's father had been at his wits' end when she became ill and all her suitors had deserted her. And L'Enfant had her won over before St. Vincent decided to do the _honorable_ thing and marry the woman.
But L'Enfant himself had had the last laugh. Ah, yes! When pretty, delicate Courtney had needed a shoulder to cry on, she had accepted him. She had told him her most secret desires and needs. What she had refused to share with her husband, she had offered L'Enfant willingly, wantonly. She had wanted to make her husband suffer, but she had been too filled with hatred, too anxious to ruin everyone near her.
If he had allowed her to tell Roman about the baby, L'Enfant would have been ruined. How she had begged and cried that night. How she'd tried to twist him with her evil lies. She had deserved her fate.
He could still see her tears, still hear her pleas: "Yves darling, there's never been anyone but you! You know this child can't be Roman's. I haven't been with him since our wedding night!"
She'd been reclining on the bed, waiting for him to come to her, her pale, fragile body barely hidden from his eyes by the gossamer gown she wore.
"You're lying!" he heard himself accuse. "You only want to destroy me the way you've destroyed your husband!"
"No, darling! I love you! I only want us to be together. Come here to me. Make love to me! _Please_ , oh please!"
He had gone to her then and loved her. But there had been nothing gentle about their coupling. He had let her know that he was the master, that she was only a slave to his lust. She had deserved pain that night. He smiled at the thought. She had even enjoyed it, he mused. Like the _whore_ she was! Like _all_ whores enjoyed pain!
Afterward, when she had continued her weeping and pleading and lying, he'd had no choice but to silence her. She'd been so lovely, hanging there with the bed rope twisted about her fragile neck. He'd been moved almost to tears just looking at her. Why couldn't she have been as quiet and accommodating in life as she had been in death?
L'Enfant snapped quickly back to the present when a buggy passed down Esplanade. It wouldn't do for him to be seen lurking about in broad daylight. Besides, he'd found out what he needed to know. He had watched long enough. What an interesting pattern he had discovered! Desirée was living alone in the apartment above the carriage house as if she were Roman's mistress instead of his wife. Her husband came to her each night and stayed until morning. L'Enfant could only imagine what went on up there during the dark hours, but the very thought excited him.
Now, all he had to do was keep watch until some night when Roman was called to a patient. Then he would present himself at Desirée's door, and she would be his at last. He'd been a fool the night he had her at his townhouse. He should have dealt with her property then. But time had only whetted his appetite for her. Besides, when he came to her this time, she would know who he was. She would realize that he'd found her out and that she was about to receive her punishment.
He smiled grimly, thinking about it. She would fight, of course, and probably scream. They always did. They never guessed that their struggles only added to his pleasure. Who would hear her, way out there in that apartment over the carriage house? And who would care if one more whore died?
Yes, he would get even with her! He could read her cool disdain anytime he was near, her condescension, her loathing. What right had she to be so high and mighty? Hadn't he—Yves L'Enfant—rescued her from Mahogany Hall? Hadn't he saved her from disgrace? And what had she offered him in return? Nothing but her haughty air and suspicions! He knew she'd been asking questions around town about him. She wanted to know his background, his character, his comings and goings. Well, she would find out firsthand soon enough!
As for Roman St. Vincent, it would serve him right as well! L'Enfant had been forced to exist in the doctor's shadow all these years, picking at his leavings. Well, no more! The Saint of Storyville would be brought to his knees once and for all when his whore of a wife was finally exposed for what she really was!
L'Enfant glanced up at the apartment once more before he left his vantage point. His breath caught, and he felt a rush of blood course downward. He smoothed a hand down over his britches to adjust the growing bulge.
_"Wanton!"_ he seethed. _"Temptress! Whore!"_
Desirée, dressing to receive her husband when he arrived, stood by her window, wearing only her camisole and pantalets, as she bent forward to brush her long hair.
L'Enfant stood mesmerized, watching her. Without even realizing what he was doing, he started toward the carriage house. Silently, he opened the side gate and eased into the courtyard. A few more steps and he was inside the stable. Slowly, being careful not to make a sound, he started up the stairs.
His whole body seemed to be pulsing. He could still imagine the sight of her before his eyes—her full breasts straining at the thin batiste of her camisole, the nipples dark against the fabric. He remembered well the silky softness of her skin, the fullness of her lips, the very smell of her—musky and warm and totally female.
" _Wickedly_ female!" he whispered aloud.
L'Enfant was at the door now. He could hear her moving about inside, humming to herself. His excitement rose to a new pitch. He broke out in a sweat and his breathing became labored. His hand trembled as he reached for the doorknob.
A moment more, he told himself, and she would be his. He would take from her what he wanted. Then he would teach her right from wrong.
_Yes, Desirée!_ he thought. _Our time has come at last!_
His hand closed on the cold brass of the knob, and he turned it slowly.
Desirée, putting the final pins in her hair, thought she heard a sound at the door.
"Roman's early!" she cried, feeling a rush of longing.
Quickly, she finished doing up her hair. She reached for her dress, then changed her mind. She smiled with anticipation. Why bother to put it on? She'd only have to take it off again in a few moments. Instead, she drew on a dressing gown of pale green silk. Then she checked her reflection in the mirror and added a touch of gardenia perfume to her wrists, her breasts, and her throat.
"There!" she said, smiling at her reflection. "I'm ready for my lover!"
L'Enfant eased the door open and peered in. He could see Desirée in the next room. She held a crystal perfume stopper in her hand, dabbing the scent between her breasts. The sight stopped him in his tracks. Within moments, he assured himself, his mouth would be buried between those two fragrant mounds. He would rip that fine fabric away in an instant, freeing her flesh to his gaze and his touch. And that was not all that would be buried within her soon enough.
His damp palm slipped on the doorknob, making a sqeaking sound.
"Darling, is that you?" Desirée called.
L'Enfant was about to answer when he heard another sound from below him in the stable. Someone was coming. He glanced about wildly. A pantry door off the parlor stood slightly ajar. He could slip in there without Desirée's seeing him from the bedroom. Just as he heard the first boot tread on the stairs, he crept into the closet and pulled the door almost shut behind him.
"Desirée?" Roman called. "Why did you leave the door open?"
She came into the parlor to meet him with open arms. "I never lock it, darling. It's always open to you!"
Any further discussion of the open door was forgotten as Roman took his wife into his arms, capturing her lips in a deep, searching kiss. While he held her, his hands slipped down to her waist, untying the green dressing gown. Slowly, he eased the silk down off her shoulders.
When it slithered to the floor, he drew away from her and let his eyes alone continue kissing her.
"You're not dressed!" he said with a husky chuckle.
"I was _almost_ dressed until a moment ago."
His hands came up to cup her thinly clad breasts. He circled her nipples with his thumbs until they peaked with desire. When she signed softly, he drew her close, kissing the perfumed valley between her breasts.
Yves L'Enfant saw it all. With the pantry door slightly ajar, he watched Roman St. Vincent as he slowly and carefully went about arousing his wife. He watched as the doctor removed the camisole, fondling and kissing the satiny flesh that L'Enfant himself ached to touch. He continued his spying as Roman led Desirée to the bed in the next room. A well-placed mirror in the parlor offered a perfect, agonizing view of their afternoon love-making.
L'Enfant knew he should take advantage of their distraction to escape the apartment, but he remained, mesmerized. He had taken the voyeur's role many times before. Even as a small boy, he had watched his slut of a mother and her lovers. At Mahogany Hall, he had paid Lulu White to let him use the Chinese screens in different rooms, though never had any pair proved so transfixing.
When they had loved each other to the finish, they lay still in each other's arms, talking quietly. L'Enfant was about to slip away when he heard his own name mentioned.
"No, I haven't seen Yves since he returned," Roman answered in reply to Desirée's question. "I heard he was back, but how did you know?"
"Garnet told me when she telephoned today. She said he wanted to escort her to the French Ball. But she preferred to go with Patrick Sullivan. It seems she's quite taken with the commissioner."
Suddenly, Yves L'Enfant was trembling with rage. So that was why Garnet had turned him down! The little _bitch_!
"Yes," Roman answered, "it seems that Pat Sullivan is equally fond of her. It's too bad the color line has to keep them apart. Why, if Garnet were not in New Orleans—in Lulu White's—she could easily pass anywhere else. It's a shame to see two people who really care for each other kept apart by manmade laws."
Desirée nodded her agreement, feeling suddenly sad for both Garnet and Commissioner Sullivan. But she had other things on her mind, other things to say to her husband.
"Roman, Garnet had a surprise today. A very nice one!"
"Yes? Tell me, darling."
"She's been chosen queen from all the women in Storyville. She's so excited! Can't we attend the French Ball and share in her big evening?"
L'Enfant, anxious to get away now, missed the rest of the conversation. As he slipped out of his hiding place, he glanced toward the bedroom to see Roman leaning down over Desirée's breasts, kissing her peaked nipples gently. He stifled an angry curse and hurried for the door.
These two women, who looked so much alike, were very similar in other ways as well, L'Enfant thought, as he made his escape. He'd guessed from the start that Desirée was passionate, but that she would never show him that fiery side of her nature. As for Garnet Gold, she was a whore, born and bred. How dare she turn him down in order to accept the invitation of another man? And Patrick Sullivan of all men!
As he made a dash for the side gate, L'Enfant, blazing with hatred, muttered to himself, "Garnet and Desirée... Desirée and Garnet... I'll get them both for this! Both _sisters of sin_!"
Desirée sat up in bed, her attention drawn suddenly by some sound, foreign to the loving silence that reigned in the room.
"What was that?" she asked.
Roman continued kissing her. "What, darling? I didn't hear anything."
"It sounded like footsteps on the stairs."
Roman chuckled softly and pressed her back down. "It was only the wind banging the stable door, sweetheart. None of the servants would dare interrupt us. I've given strictest orders that we are to remain undisturbed when I come here."
Desirée lay back down, but the peaceful bliss of the moment was shattered. She continued straining her ears for the slightest sound, trying to ignore her growing sense of unease.
"Roman, you haven't given me an answer about the French Ball."
He sighed and rolled away from her. "Desirée, I thought I made myself perfectly clear on that subject."
"But that was before Garnet was elected queen. Please, can't we go, Roman?"
He waited a long time before answering her. "Darling, I've been hoping to avoid this subject, at least until later. But I suppose I must tell you now. There was another murder in Storyville last night."
Desirée gasped and gripped his arm.
"Emerald from Josie Arlington's place."
"Old Agnes's daughter?" Desirée felt numb from the news.
"Yes, Ruby's sister. We'd all hoped that this killer had moved on. He hadn't struck in several weeks, as you know. But now that we know he's still lurking in the city, I feel there's more danger than ever. I don't think it would be safe taking you into the district."
Desirée thought all this through for a time. Roman was right, of course. Storyville was a dangerous place even in the best of times. And if the killer had struck again, these were the worst of times. Still, all his victims had been residents of the district. His pattern seemed set, with only prostitutes in any real danger.
"I know how you feel about this, Roman. I won't press you again on the matter. But it seems that I would be perfectly safe with you. And I would so enjoy seeing Garnet as the queen. Will you think about it?"
Roman turned and took Desirée into his arms once more. He sighed and buried his face against her breasts, breathing in the sweet, exotic scent of gardenias.
"I'll think about it, yes. But right now, I have other things on my mind, darling."
Desirée kissed him tenderly, letting him know that she loved him, she trusted him, and she wanted him every bit as much as he desired her.
Forgetting dinner and all else, they rode the tossing waves of passion far into the night.
###
# Chapter Twenty
All New Orleans was abuzz about the French Ball. Every quadrant of the old city viewed the coming event from a different angle.
The ladies of Storyville looked forward to the occasion with keen anticipation. This would be their night to shine. They were also amused at the surprise they had cooked up for the high-society shimmers who planned to crash their ball.
These upper crust folks, totally unaware that anything special was being planned in their honor, busied themselves preening and primping, preparing for their delightfully wicked evening among the _peasants_.
In all the coffeehouses, cafes, and gaming establishments about town, the dapper sports could talk of nothing else. They eagerly awaited this special night, when Storyville would be wide open, and the pretty girls of the district at their most deliciously accommodating. Not a dandy among them would miss it!
The police geared up for the inevitable trouble spawned by such riotous galas. It never failed! Their cells would be bulging at the bars before the night was done. They'd heard unsettling rumors, too, that something out of the ordinary was afoot in the district. Heaven help them all if the Red-light Ripper planned to strike again on New Year's Eve! If the madams and their girls were up to more than their usual tricks, the city's boys in blue would have their hands full as it was.
Meanwhile, at the house on Esplanade, Desirée and Leda stitched and sewed and altered and ironed, preparing the costumes that the reluctant doctor and his wife would wear to the French Ball.
Only Garnet could have guessed what was behind Desirée's bemused smile as she tacked silver stars to her golden gown.
"Mercy sake, Miss Desirée, you're going to look like a queen your own self at that fancy ball!" Leda exclaimed.
The servant was closer to the truth than she knew. The whole thing had been Garnet's idea. Desirée never would have dreamed of dressing like the French Ball Queen herself, but now she could hardly wait. What an evening it was going to be!
Desirée had telephoned Garnet the moment Roman grudgingly agreed to attend.
"You're sure he'll come?" the delighted girl had demanded.
"Positive! He gave me his promise. But now I have to figure out some kind of costume."
A long silence had followed Desirée's statement. Then Garnet's excited voice had come over the line. "I know! Oh, it'll make the night, Desirée! Just wait'll you hear my plan!"
She put forth her suggestion that the two of them dress in identical gowns. "As much as we favor, we'll have everybody going crazy, Desirée. They'll think they've drunk too much champagne and they're seeing double."
Desirée had argued that she didn't think that would be quite proper. But Garnet, with her pleading, won out in the end. She'd immediately sent Desirée the pattern for the gown, along with samples of the silver and gold fabric and instructions on where to purchase the yard goods.
After agreeing to dress like Garnet, Desirée began to have second thoughts. What would Roman say? It was one thing to attend, but quite another to imitate one of the Storyville women. People were bound to confuse their identities. In fact, that was the whole point of their scheming. How would Roman react when other people mistook his wife for a prostitute?
She shivered slightly and pricked her finger with her needle. Sucking at the drop of blood, she thought about it for a time. She knew the answer to her own question! Roman would _not_ be pleased!
She reminded herself it was all meant in the spirit of good fun. A new century didn't dawn every night. Nor would Garnet ever again be the Queen of Storyville. Since this was, after all, Garnet's idea, Desirée felt obliged to go along with it to please her. Roman needn't know anything about their scheme until they arrived at the ball on New Year's Eve.
Besides, her husband was too busy protesting his own costume to concern himself with what Desirée would wear. He would be dressed as Winter, in silver tights and a flowing cape of sparkling snowflakes. Desirée herself had painstakingly cut out every flake and covered each one with spangles. She had even figured a way to transform his sword cane into a magical wand, dripping make-believe icicles. It was the perfect touch.
Desirée glanced down at her dainty lapel watch. Three o'clock! Roman would be home any moment for his fitting.
"Quickly, Leda," she commanded, "clear all this stuff away. We'll finish tomorrow."
The last silver star and golden drape had disappeared from view by the time Roman strode in, looking indeed like the dead of winter.
"Darling, you're right on time!" Desirée rose and went to kiss him, but he shied away.
"If you like, I'll leave while you change," she offered.
He gave her no answer, but whisked up his costume and went into the next room, slamming the door after him. A short time later, he returned, looking the picture of discomfort and embarrassment.
"Damned if I'll wear this freak suit!" he raged at her when she motioned for him to come closer for his fitting. "A doctor is supposed to look dignified, not like something out of a circus sideshow, Desirée!"
"Darling, this is a costume ball," she mumbled around a mouthful of pins. "Everyone will look different. At least I didn't insist on my first idea, that we go as Adam and Eve!"
Desirée offered her squirming husband a slightly suggestive look through lowered lashes. He pretended to ignore her flirtatious glance, grimacing as he tugged at his tights.
"Thank God for _small_ blessings!" he huffed. "I certainly would draw the line at a fig leaf!"
Desirée smiled, guessing that he would soon give in.
"Mahalia told me that Dr. Jardine is going as the snake in the Garden of Eden," she said as she continued pinning his tights tighter yet. "And she's going dressed as the apple."
"Well, she has the shape for it, I'll give her that!"
The thought of the slightly pompous pair in such outlandish gear brought a grudging smile to Roman's lips. At that moment, Desirée knew her battle was won.
She sat back and gave her work an approving gaze. Thanks to her imagination and industry and to Roman's well-muscled thighs encased in silver, he might even win the trophy for the evening's best costume.
She smiled broadly. Roman's form was certainly made for tights. Too bad they were no longer in vogue!
Across town, another man was trying on his costume. Yves L'Enfant had given careful consideration to what his disguise should be for the following evening. He'd found the perfect thing!
He would go as an angel... the _Angel of Death_!
He pondered his reflection in the tall glass on his dressing room wall. The long, hooded cape shrouded his entire figure. Wearing black, he could fade into the shadows, hiding easily if the need arose. He would wear no mask, counting on his deep hood to shield his features and keep his true identity a secret. After all, when the time came, he wanted Garnet to know who he was. She deserved to see her executioner's face!
Yes! He smiled sardonically at his own image in the mirror. He planned to bring more than simply death's disguise to the French Ball.
"The Angel of Death will strike tomorrow night!" he said aloud. "Strike and taste the sweetness of revenge!"
"But I don't want to ride in no hearse!"
Garnet was proving a difficult queen the following evening. Lulu was not about to let one of her girls turn down a single frill accompanying her one-night reign. The madam stood squarely before the glittering monarch of the demimonde, staring her down.
"Now listen here, honey, that hearse is part of the show. It's the fanciest rig in all New Orleans. Every queen takes that ride. It's tradition!" She put her arm around Garnet's shoulders and stroked a hand through the air of the parlor as if painting a lovely picture. "Just think of it! Them eight, fine black horses prancing, their plumes dancing in the air, and you on a throne in that glassed-in part in the back, nodding and waving to the crowds while they cheer you on."
Garnet seemed convinced for a moment, but then she stamped her foot and said, "That glassed-in part's where dead people ride, Lulu! I won't do it!"
Lulu, bedecked in her full treasury of diamonds, was nearing her wits' end when Pat Sullivan arrived to escort his queen to the ball.
"Lord, darlin', if you don't look good enough to eat!" He went right to Garnet and took her into his arms, making Lulu think he meant to devour her on the spot.
"Leave off there, Pat!" the disgruntled madam commanded. "We got us a problem here. Garnet says she won't ride in the hearse like she's supposed to."
Sullivan held his girl close and flashed his big Irish smile, green eyes twinkling. "What's all this? Not ride in your royal carriage? Why that would be an out and out disgrace, darlin'! A queen can't walk. Not _my_ queen!"
Finally, Garnet let Sully convince her, but she was still uncomfortable, even after he promised to ride up front with the driver. When they slid the last glass door in place, shutting her away where a casket usually rested, she felt like somebody had just closed the coffin lid on her. She gasped for breath and fought her fears.
As the black horses pranced through the streets of the district and the bands played and the people cheered, Garnet forced herself to smile and wave. Over the past months, she'd seen too many of her friends take one final ride in this very hearse to feel any comfort at the moment.
Riding through the crowded streets, Garnet found herself scanning the throngs, studying faces. Could the murderer be there among them, staring at her, only waiting his chance to make Garnet herself his next victim?
A shudder ran through her as if someone had just walked on her grave. She forced her grim thoughts away. This was her big night. She meant to enjoy it, no matter what!
Desirée and Roman stood in the crowd outside Tom Anderson's saloon, awaiting the arrival of the queen's procession. She still wore her long, silver cloak in order to keep her gown hidden. Not until Garnet was inside on her throne would Desirée reveal her own costume. Then the fun would begin, Garnet had assured her. They would have the merry party-goers giddy with confusion, seeing the queen here one moment and there the next.
"They're coming!" Velda Borgland cried. "I hear the band."
Desirée glanced at the woman next to her. Velda had chosen to dress as a Grecian goddess with her husband acting as her servant. Her costume was scandalously revealing! And poor Walter looked cold and miserable in his tunic and sandals.
"There they are!" the apple-shaped woman at Roman's side shouted. Mahalia Jardine wobbled a bit with excitement. The lumpy-looking snake beside her put out a steadying hand.
As if on cue, lovely Evangeline, Garnet's lady-in-waiting, came out of Anderson's and stood on the banquette, waiting to kneel before her queen.
Desirée observed the girl carefully. She looked lovely and fragile, and not so sad as usual this evening. Her long, bright hair was woven into a tapestry of braids. Her gown of pale lilac and silver was fashioned in a style similar to the ones Desirée and Garnet wore, with a bell-shaped skirt and drapes flowing from the shoulders.
A frown marred Desirée's face. She wondered what Evangeline was thinking at this moment. How difficult it must be for a girl gently reared as the pampered daughter of a Creole planter to find herself in these sordid surroundings!
Just then, Garnet's royal carriage came into view. The crowd went wild, cheering and chanting their queen's name.
The moment the hearse rolled to a full stop, the tall, handsome man seated next to the driver leaped down to help Garnet from her throne.
"That's Commissioner Sullivan," Roman whispered to Desirée. "He's a fine looking fellow, don't you think, darling?"
For no reason that she could think of, Desirée felt a shiver run down her spine. Something about the man caused an uneasy stirring deep inside her. If she could only think what it was.
"Yes, he's very handsome," she replied. "He and Garnet make a nice-looking couple."
General Jack Johnson, Lulu's midget doorman, rolled out a red carpet for the queen. Then with a click of his heels he came to attention, saluting and grinning as Garnet came toward him.
When she reached the banquette, she touched Evangeline's hair with her bejeweled scepter. Desirée was close enough to hear Garnet say in a stage whisper, "You can get up now, honey. Let's get this party going!"
Evangeline rose gracefully and took the queen's train. A smile lit her lovely face as she walked along behind Garnet. She looked more like a member of a wedding party than a part of this Scarlet Carnival. Once more Desirée felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl.
There was little time to ponder anything as the crowd swept into Anderson's behind the royal procession. Already the music was playing. The hundred electric lights made the large room brighter than day. Characters of every sort jammed in—monks and mermaids, jesters and jousters, nobles and knights, devils and dervishes. One by one they filed before Queen Garnet to pay their homage.
As Roman and Desirée came before her, Garnet whispered, "Meet me back in the dressing room as soon as everybody's come by to say howdy."
Roman looked from one woman to the other. Garnet's tone had a definite, conspiratorial quality to it. What were these two planning? he wondered. They were obviously up to something. Well, he was sure to find out soon enough. He dreaded the thought!
A black-hooded figure stood on the fringes of the crowd, taking everything in. So, there they were, the pair of them! Garnet and Desirée... Desirée and Garnet! He wished he had time this evening to pay his special court to both, but he could manage only one in this mob. Garnet, with her tall escort beaming down at her, deserved his attention at present even more than Desirée did. How dare she turn down his invitation in order to let that smiling, groveling Irishman escort her to the ball!
His blood neared the boiling point as he watched them together. Sullivan held Garnet's hand, bringing it to his lips from time to time, smiling, fawning, laughing at her crude jokes. Well, the laugh was on _him_ tonight! This would be a New Year's Eve that Commissioner Patrick Sullivan would long remember!
He shifted his attention back to Desirée for a moment. From beneath the enshrouding hood he watched her. She was standing very close to her husband, her hand clutching his arm. They talked quietly to each other, as if no one else in the room existed. They seemed as oblivious to the rest of the world as they had been that afternoon as he'd watched them make love.
His lips curved in a thin smile. What would they do if he told them he had been there, had seen it all from start to finish? How he'd love to walk up to Desirée this minute and tell her! In his mind's eye, he could see her still—naked and seductive—as she had been that afternoon. Oh, how he would like to tell her what he'd seen and watch her lovely face pale at his words! The very thought aroused him.
Desirée suddenly had the disquieting feeling that someone was staring at her. She turned and scanned the crowded room. Her eyes focused on a figure in a long, hooded cloak. Quickly, the person turned and lost himself in the mob. Desirée clung to Roman's arm.
"What's wrong, darling?" he asked. "You've shivering."
"It's nothing, love!"
She tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that had accompanied her to the ball. After all, this was a night to celebrate, to enjoy. She should forget about everything else, at least for this one evening, but she couldn't ignore the knowledge that had been distressing her for the past two days.
Mr. Bigelow had sent his information to her on Yves L'Enfant. There was not much to surprise anyone in the report. L'Enfant was the wastrel son of a sugar planter and his wife—a gambler, a womanizer, a duelist, a failure at whatever he put his hand to, it seemed. All that she had known already. The more unsettling facts, Desirée herself had dug out of old newspapers. Yves L'Enfant had been in New Orleans at the time of every single murder in the district!
This in itself seemed hardly worth taking note of. Probably Roman, too, had been in the city at those tragic times. The rest of the story was what bothered her most. Whenever the paper's society news printed the fact that L'Enfant had gone upriver to his plantation, the Red-light Ripper disappeared from the scene as well.
Desirée had been trying to work up the nerve to mention her findings to Roman, but it seemed so little proof of anything. She felt foolish even bringing it up.
"Darling, have you spotted Yves L'Enfant yet?" she asked innocently.
Roman laughed. "In this masked mob? I wouldn't recognize my own mother!" He slapped his silver-clad thigh. "And I should hope she wouldn't recognize me either!"
"I thought perhaps you knew what he'd be wearing."
"No. But I'm sure he's here somewhere. I'll see if I can't find him for you before the evening's done."
Just then, Garnet beckoned to Desirée. She was ready to adjourn to her private back room to freshen up. This would be the moment they'd both waited for.
"Excuse me, darling," Desirée said to Roman. "I won't be long."
When Desirée reached Tom Anderson's office, which had been transformed into the queen's private chamber for the night, she found Garnet and Evangeline already there. Immediately, but with great ceremony, Desirée removed her cape.
Evangeline stared at the two women—seemingly identical in every way. She gasped aloud. "I can't believe it! Why, no one could tell you apart!"
"Ain't that the truth!" Garnet exclaimed, staring at their twin reflections in the minor. "How about it, Desirée? Are you ready to find out if we can pull this off?"
"What do you mean?"
"You and Evangeline go back out there, and you take my place on the throne. I'll keep the door cracked and watch."
Desirée felt nervous about this whole charade suddenly. "Oh, Garnet, do you think that's wise?"
"Hell, why not? Even if somebody notices a difference, what are they going to do, throw us in jail for pulling a switch on them? Come on, Desirée, just for a few minutes, just to see how it goes."
Desirée was quaking in her slippers as she and Evangeline went back out to the main hall. Everyone bowed and greeted the queen as if nothing were amiss. When Desirée took Garnet's throne, Pat Sullivan was there in an instant by her side, holding her hand and smiling down at her.
"I missed you, darlin'," he told Desirée. "Lord, you get prettier every time I look at you this evening! I don't know how I'll wait till this party's over before you and I can be alone together. You know how much I want you, Garnet. I've been thinking about it all day. Maybe we could slip back to old Tom's office for a quickie. Hell, honey, he wouldn't mind! Besides, the queen can do whatever she wants."
Desirée felt herself blushing furiously. Commissioner Sullivan was kissing her fingertips while he talked. At the same time, she spotted Roman staring at her with a puzzled expression on his face. Quickly, she jumped up.
"Where are you going, darlin'?" Sullivan demanded.
"I'll be back shortly," she answered quickly.
She absolutely flung herself into the little back room. She was panting, and trembling all over.
"Well?" Garnet demanded. "Did anybody notice any difference?"
Desirée started to giggle with nervousness. "Does your Sully always nibble at your fingers that way, Garnet?"
A cloud of rage crossed Garnet's face before she, too, collapsed into laughter.
"You mean _he_ didn't know it wasn't me? Well, you just wait till I get my hands on that over-sexed Irishman! I'll tell him a thing or two. What did he say to you?"
Again embarrassment colored Desirée's cheeks. She shook her head furiously. "I can't!"
"Desirée, you got to tell me. Otherwise, how will I know what's gone on when I get back out there?"
She had a point Desirée screwed up her courage and said in a breathless rush, "He wants you to invite him back here for a quickie."
Garnet grinned. "Oh, he does, does he? Well now, that might not be a bad idea!"
"Desirée, I think your husband noticed the difference," Evangeline said. "He looked at you very oddly."
"Yes, I saw his puzzled expression! That's why I hurried back here. Roman's going to be very angry with us, Garnet."
Garnet laughed. "He'll get over it!"
"I'd better get back to him," Desirée said.
Garnet caught her arm. "Just a minute. Before you go, I have to give you this." She handed Desirée a small, green card.
Desirée stared at the blank piece of paper. "What is this?"
Garnet chuckled. "Part of a surprise we girls have for the uptown party crashers later this evening. If any trouble breaks out, you just show the cops your green card and you'll be fine."
Garnet took the card back and slipped it into Desirée's bodice. "Now, don't lose it!"
Desirée hurried out to find Roman, wondering what all this mystery was about. Garnet was full of surprises tonight!
She found Roman dancing with Velda Borgland, if one could call it dancing. Velda was draped about Desirée's husband like ivy clinging to a tree. When the music stopped, Desirée quickly caught Roman's arm.
"So there you are!" The words were hardly out of his mouth before he spied her gown. His blue eyes deepened to a stormy hue. "What's all this? That _was_ you up on the throne a few moments ago! Would you care to explain, Desirée?"
As quickly and quietly as she could, Desirée led Roman away from the dance floor. She told him everything, explaining that even though it had been Garnet's idea, she had gone along with the wild scheme, so he shouldn't blame Garnet entirely. She didn't go so far as to apologize, but she did plead with him not to be angry.
By the time Desirée finished her disjointed explanation, Roman was finding it difficult to control his laughter.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with the two of you! I honestly don't know, Desirée! You both deserve a good spanking for such high jinks! Perhaps Pat Sullivan and I can arrange it before the night's over!"
"Roman!" Desirée gasped. "You wouldn't dare!"
The black-hooded figure lurked nearby, watching.
What the hell was Garnet doing with _him_? L'Enfant wondered. Wasn't one of the pair enough to satisfy the good doctor?
L'Enfant downed another glass of champagne. He'd had several since the start of the evening. He'd lost count, but it didn't matter. The sparkling wine helped to bolster his courage. He'd never planned one of his executions with so many people around, but he had it all figured out now.
He'd been watching the door to Tom Anderson's office. Garnet flitted in and out like a hummingbird in search of nectar. Once the crowd got well wined and boisterous, he'd follow her to that back room. He knew where the switch was to douse the lights, throwing the whole place into darkness. The next time she headed back there, he'd follow her, hit the switch, and then she would be all his. Everybody would go crazy when the lights went out. By the time someone got to the switch, it would be all over. And he would be long gone!
He saw Garnet and Roman staring at him. He raised his glass in silent toast.
"That man is looking at us again," Desirée said. "Who is he anyway? He makes me uncomfortable!"
Roman only laughed. "Darling, how can you even tell it's a man inside that shroud? Perhaps it's one of the girls, putting us all on, since that seems the thing to do tonight."
A short time later, the countdown to midnight began. Everyone crowded onto the banquette in front of the saloon to listen to the church bells chime in the new century. At the stroke of midnight, fireworks lit the sky with red, blue, and silver.
Desirée stood with Roman's arm around her. When the final stroke came, he leaned down and kissed her deeply. She felt tears of happiness slipping down her cheeks.
"Happy New Year, darling," he whispered. "Happy new century! I know 1900 will be a good year for us. I feel it. We've turned a corner in our lives, you and I."
"Oh, Roman, I love you so much! Hold me! Never let me go!"
He did as she asked. He would have even if she hadn't asked. This woman was his whole life now, his one and only love. Without her, he simply could not go on.
"Darling," he whispered. "Will you move back into the house with me? I want you close all the time. I need you with me!"
Desirée's heart swelled. She reached up and circled his neck with her arms, bringing his lips down to hers. After kissing him slowly, tenderly, thoroughly, she whispered, "Oh, my love, I thought you'd never ask!"
They found themselves standing alone on the banquette. The rest of the crowd had gone back inside. The music was louder now, the champagne flowing freely, and the dancing had become more energetic. One of Lulu's girls had stripped down to her corset and stockings and was gyrating on a table top while a circle of applauding men cheered her on.
"It's getting too wild," Roman muttered. "This is just what I was afraid of. I think it's time we left, Desirée."
She was about to agree, when the sound of police whistles shrilled through the room.
"Raid!" came the scream from all sides as people dashed this way and that.
Roman drew Desirée back into a corner, out of harm's way. Suddenly, Garnet was beside them. "Be sure to show them your green card," she said. "Everything will be okay."
Desirée, clutching her ticket to freedom in her hand, watched as the policemen rounded up the Jardines, the Borglands, and a number of the other prominent party crashers.
Velda shrieked and cried, but to no avail. She was herded out with the others and tossed into the back of the paddy wagon.
Soon a surly policeman stood before Desirée and Roman. "Sorry, Doc, but you and the lady will have to come along."
Quickly, Desirée showed the man her card. He broke into an embarrassed grin. "Oh, Garnet! I didn't know it was you. Good thing you had your card." He moved on, leaving them in peace.
Roman snatched the green card from Desirée's hand. "What a setup!" he muttered. "If I were a betting man, I'd lay odds that Lulu and Josie and Tom Anderson engineered this raid just to embarrass the uptowners."
"And you'd be right, Doc," Garnet said. She'd slipped up beside them during all the confusion. "It's high time those fancy friends of yours learned that they can't come homing in on our fun!"
"I don't understand," Desirée said.
"You don't know what a green card is?" Roman asked.
She gave him a bewildered shake of her head.
"It's a prostitute's identification card. Garnet saved your pretty hide tonight, my darling! And mine as well. If it weren't for her, we'd be sharing a cell with my colleagues tonight!"
"Serves 'em right, coming down here and laughing at us!" Garnet assured them. "Come on, Desirée, now that this fun's over, let's go stir up some excitement of our own."
Before Roman could protest, Garnet had whisked his wife from his side.
Yves L'Enfant had backed far into the shadows of the hallway to the kitchen when the first police arrived on the scene. He hadn't expected them, not this early in the evening. The sight of the uniforms had almost sent him fleeing.
He was getting paranoid, he told himself. They hadn't come looking for him. It was only a casual raid, and now that they'd put in one appearance at the French Ball, they weren't likely to return. Not until after he'd finished his work and departed, at least.
When he tipped his glass up to drain it, he spied Garnet heading for the back room. Then he saw _two_ Garnets! He blinked and shook his head. "Shouldn't of drunk so much of this stuff!" he muttered, dashing the glass to the floor.
He blinked and looked again. His head was clear now. He saw only one of her as she paused outside the door.
That was it! Garnet's stroke of midnight! He eased down the hallway toward the light switch.
Evangeline, Desirée, and Garnet all but filled the small room with their wide skirts.
"Lordy, I got to use the pot!" Garnet exclaimed. "But how'm I ever going to manage all these petticoats?"
"Maybe I can help," Desirée offered.
"Well, let's hurry!" Garnet urged.
The pair crowded through another doorway, into Tom Anderson's private bathroom.
"Shut that door for us!" Garnet called to Evangeline.
Roman wasn't sure what those two were up to, but he'd had quite enough of the French Ball. He would be better off if he and Desirée had been arrested along with the others. There would be hell to pay when Dr. Jardine found out that Roman had gotten off scot-free.
He shouldered his way through the crowd. He'd seen the two of them go into Anderson's office. He'd get Desirée and say good night to Garnet, then they'd leave.
Roman was almost to the door of the office when the whole building was suddenly plunged into darkness. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Women were screaming, men yelling. He tapped his way toward the door with his sword cane.
Suddenly, someone bumped into him, cursing in the blackness. He recognized the voice. "L'Enfant, is that you?"
A growl of rage answered him and an instant later, he felt something slash his left shoulder. First, he went numb, then a burning pain scorched through his flesh. Fighting dizziness, he freed his sword cane and thrust this way and that, trying to find a target.
He heard the door open, the door to the room where Desirée was. Sudden fear, so great that it masked his pain, tore through him. He stumbled toward the room, found the knob, but it froze in his hand.
"Locked. Dammit!" he cursed.
He put his uninjured shoulder to the door, trying to jar it open. Inside, he heard scuffling, a woman's screams, a man's angry voice.
"Desirée!" he yelled. "Desirée, I'm coming, darling!"
A moment later, the door flew open, sending Roman sprawling. But as he fell, he caught the long robe in one hand. He pulled hard, trying to bring the man down. They struggled. Roman was on his feet. He slashed out with his sword cane, finding a mark. The man gave one terrible cry of pain before he wrenched free and smashed a fist into Roman's face.
It seemed as if the floor took forever coming up to meet him. When he landed, something soft and warm and sticky cushioned his fall. He gripped the thing, a woman's body.
"Desirée... oh, God, my Desirée..." Roman's words trailed off as blackness closed in around him.
###
# Chapter Twenty-One
All the city's newspapers, including the _Mascot_ , carried the story with bold headlines: **"SLASHER STRIKES AGAIN!"... "MURDER AT THE SCARLET CARNIVAL!"... "DEATH STALKS THE DISTRICT!"... "SAINT OF STORYVILLE BARELY ESCAPES FIEND AT FRENCH BALL"... "RED-LIGHT RIPPER BRINGS IN THE NEW CENTURY!"**
Desirée was still in shock as she read the accounts in the early morning extras. She could remember almost nothing of the night before after the lights went out. She and Garnet had been shut in the bathroom, unable to find the lock in the darkness to free themselves.
"Well, it's a good thing, young lady," Dr. Crozat had told her as he bound up Roman's wounds after they got him home. "If you'd come out of that water closet, there probably would have been three dead instead of only that poor child, Evangeline."
Desirée shuddered with horror every time she thought of the grisly scene that had greeted her when the lights came back on, and she and Garnet were able at last to escape their close quarters. She would never forget the sight of Roman, unconscious and bloody, sprawled across Evangeline's lifeless, mangled body. How she had kept from fainting, she would never know.
The police had been summoned once more, to a far grimmer task than the prearranged arrest of party crashers. The strongest officers had looked somber and pale as they viewed Evangeline's remains. The Ripper, whoever he was, deserved the name. His knife had found its mark repeatedly, until what had been a beautiful young woman was left looking like something inhuman—carrion after scavengers had left it.
But Roman had survived and would recover, thank God! Desirée tried to focus her thoughts on that one bit of good news. The knife wound in his left shoulder and down his arm was deep, but clean. Dr. Crozat had said he was lucky. An inch or two and the killer's blade might have found his heart.
Laying the papers aside, Desirée went to sit by Roman's bed, watching him sleep. He looked pale and ill. In spite of the sedative the doctor had given him, he tossed fretfully on the pillows, crying out from time to time. He was still trying to save Desirée, still trying to stop the killer. Tears filled her eyes as she watched over him. What would she have done if anything had happened to Roman? She dared not think about it.
Desirée, weary beyond imagining, leaned down and rested her head on the side of the bed. She took Roman's right hand in hers and held it. His fingers trembled slightly in hers, and he thrashed about for a moment, fighting, still fighting.
"It's all right, Roman. You're home, my darling. It's all over now. Try to rest."
As she whispered her litany of comforting words to him, Desirée found that she could not keep her own eyes open. Soon, leaning against the bed, holding her husband, she slipped off to sleep.
Dr. Crozat's knock awoke her barely an hour later. The heavy January rain added to the morning's gloom. Roman still slept uneasily.
"Thought I'd stop back in and check on our patient," Dr. Crozat said quietly. "How's he doing, my dear?"
"About the same. When will he awaken?" Desirée demanded.
Dr. Crozat only shook his head at her impatience.
"Even a strong man will be weak after losing so much blood, Desirée," he told her. "He'll come around soon. Then you keep giving him beef broth to build up his strength. That body of his will mend in no time." The doctor's bushy brows drew together suddenly and he cleared his throat in a nervous manner. "I have to warn you of something, though, Desirée."
" _Warn_ me?" New fear clutched at her heart.
"It's just that I don't want you to be upset if Roman's out of sorts when he does start feeling better physically. He'll be sleeping less soon. But when he's awake, he may not be too pleasant to be around. He's had a terrible emotional shock, my dear. He thought that was _you_ in that room with the killer. Can you imagine what that must have done to him? And, too, knowing Roman as I do, I'm sure he'll blame himself for what happened."
Desirée was horrified at the very thought. "Why ever should he blame himself? He was almost killed trying to stop that murderer!"
Dr. Crozat shook his head. "You and I see it that way, Desirée. But I fear Roman will feel that he failed, and because of that failure, poor Evangeline lost her life."
Now, Desirée was getting angry. "I won't listen to this! It was _not_ Roman's fault!"
Roman stirred in the bed. Desirée didn't notice that he was awake until he said, "Listen to Dr. Crozat, Desirée. He's right. I should have been able to stop that man or I should have died trying!"
As happy as she was to hear Roman's voice again, his words were no comfort.
"Roman, you very nearly got yourself killed! You did all you could!"
"She's right, my boy," Dr. Crozat added. "Listen to your wife."
Roman cast a disparaging look at them, then closed his eyes with a sigh. "If I had _not_ listened to her, we would not have been there at all, and maybe none of this would have happened."
A cry of anguish and disbelief escaped Desirée. Dr. Crozat took her arm and led her out of the bedroom.
"I warned you, my dear. You musn't take anything he says right now to heart."
"But, Doctor!" She paused for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts and control her emotions. "Why, how can he believe that by going to that place we made such an awful thing happen? Is it my fault? _Really?_ "
"Of course not, Desirée!" The old man's voice was gruff. He knew that the tenderness he wanted to show her would only bring on hysterics under the circumstances. "Don't you start talking the same foolishness as your husband. And don't put too much stock in anything he says at this point. As I told you earlier, it's a combination of emotional stress and his medication. He may be longer recovering his senses than his strength. It'll take a strong woman to put up with him until he's right in his thinking again. Are you up to it, Desirée?"
Desirée blinked back her tears. "If you're asking if I love him, Doctor, the answer is yes! I'll do _anything_ to help him recover!"
"That's a girl!" Old Dr. Crozat smiled at her and patted her shoulder. "By the way, you have an appointment with me next week. Don't forget, Desirée."
She had forgotten. Now she made a mental note. She certainly didn't want to miss this doctor's visit!
Basin Street was quiet that mfwaorning, most of the houses shuttered and draped already in black bunting, as Officer Mooney made his final rounds before going off duty.
He slapped his arms against the cold. "Bloody fog!" he muttered. "Chills a body to the bone!"
But it wasn't just the fog off the river or the fact that the sun had yet to show itself. The boys at the station house all felt it, this grim cold that had descended over Storyville and hovered like a shroud. It had been there since last night's grisly murder.
Mooney glanced about him, squinting into the mists. Somewhere out there was the killer, still running free. Maybe he was planning his next crime at this very moment. The lone policeman shivered. Or maybe during the night he had murdered again and the victim would be discovered once the fog lifted.
"I'm glad me shift's over," Mooney muttered, taking courage from his own voice. "I'll be a long time forgettin' the sight of that pretty young thing slashed to ribbons! Pray God, I never see another such sight!"
Mooney stopped suddenly, cocking his head. He thought he'd heard something. He glanced up and down the street, ever wary of the slightest sound or movement in the shadows. All he saw that seemed out of the ordinary was a dark shape on Lulu White's stairs. No doubt a sack of garbage thrown by some prankster, he figured.
"Well, she'll be givin' me the very devil for letting that land on her doorstep!" he grumbled.
As he neared Mahogany Hall, he saw that it was no sack of garbage, but a drunk collapsed and sleeping it off.
Mooney poked the man with his night stick. "Here now! You'll have to be movin' along!"
The tippler stayed where he was. Angry now, the policeman gave the fellow the toe of his boot. The figure sprawled on his back, his blank eyes staring straight up from a bloodless face into Mooney's.
"Holy Mother!" he cried. "The bloke's stone-cold dead!"
Dr. Crozat was the one who brought the news to the St. Vincent house later that afternoon. He'd been on his way to look in on Roman one last time before calling it a day when he'd been stopped by an officer and commandeered to sign a death certificate.
"I know he was a friend of yours, Roman," Crozat said compassionately. "So I thought I'd better break the news before someone else did. It was Yves L'Enfant."
Roman failed to note Desirée's sharp intake of breath. "Mooney found him, you say, just laid out there on the stairs, dead?" Roman asked. "Are you telling me he had a heart seizure, a man so young?"
"Oh, no!" Crozat corrected. "There were two wounds in the abdomen. Sword wounds, I would guess." He shook his head sympathetically. "He took a while dying, I'd say. Perhaps several hours. I don't understand why he didn't seek aid from a doctor. And, if he got those wounds in a duel, there should have been a physician in attendance. It's all a great mystery to me. And to the police."
Roman nodded. "Many things about L'Enfant will probably remain a mystery forever." He was thinking now, not of the man's death, but of his life, and the curious tale Adelé had once told him about Yves L'Enfant and his first wife. Of course, he didn't believe her. Adelé had been only a child at the time. She probably imagined the whole thing. After all, Yves and Courtney had always been good friends. But anything beyond that... _preposterous_!
"There was something else, too, Roman," Dr. Crozat continued. "He was dressed oddly—in a sort of costume. A long, black cape with a hood that completely hid him from head to toe. And it was stained all over. Dried blood, of course, but besides that, powder and a woman's lip rouge."
Suddenly, the French Ball came back to Desirée in a rush. The man in the hooded cape who'd kept staring at her.
"Roman, did you ever see Yves at the ball?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
He glowered at her, his temper flaring at the mere mention of the night before and at his memory of that voice he'd heard in the dark hallway. "No! I told you I didn't!"
"Do you remember the man who kept watching us?" Desirée prompted gently.
He darted an annoyed look in her direction. "I remember the man you _imagined_ was watching us!"
She ignored his surly tone. "Then perhaps you remember also that he was dressed as Dr. Crozat has just described. His face was hidden by that hooded cape."
Roman sat up in bed. "Just what are you suggesting, Desirée?" he growled at her.
Fighting tears now, she answered, "I'm not sure exactly, Roman. I only thought..."
"I don't want to discuss last night!" he snapped.
Roman slouched back down in the bed, favoring his injured shoulder. His face was a study in gloom; his blue eyes were as close to black as Desirée had ever seen them. She wondered what he could be thinking that would distress him so.
Actually, his thoughts were not far from Desirée's own. The man in the long cape—the cape he had grabbed when the figure in the darkness stabbed him. The same man who had taken his own sword thrusts when he rushed out of the room after the murder. The more he thought about it, the more the pieces began to fit together into a sort of gruesome jigsaw puzzle. Still, he tried to deny the truth. There was no way that the man he had befriended, the man he had trusted all these years could also have been the Red-light Ripper!
Leda knocked, then stepped into the room. "Pardon me, but a policeman is here. He wishes to speak with you, Dr. Crozat."
"Send him in here, Leda," Roman commanded. "I want to hear what he has to say."
Mooney came in and doffed his cap. "Beggin' your pardon, Dr. St. Vincent. I don't mean to intrude, but some more evidence has come to light on Mr. L'Enfant's unfortunate demise."
"Well, out with it, man!" Roman ordered.
When Mooney, in answer, cast a questioning glance at Desirée, Roman snapped, "My wife can hear anything you have to say to the two of us. Now, get on with it!"
Mooney nodded and drew something wrapped in brown paper from inside his coat. "We found this in the pocket of Mr. L'Enfant's trousers, sir."
All eyes focused on Mooney's trembling hands as he unwrapped the brown paper. Desirée was the first to recognize what lay before them. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, afraid that she might be sick.
"It's only a bloody rag," Roman said. "Probably he used it to press to his wounds."
"Beggin' your pardon, Doc, but I don't think so," Mooney answered.
A sob escaped Desirée. Dr. Crozat braced an arm about her shoulders. Roman only glared at her.
"What the devil's wrong with you, Desirée?" Roman demanded. "If you can't take it, then leave the room!"
"Gently, Roman," Dr. Crozat cautioned. "I think she's trying to tell us something."
She tried desperately to get the words out. Finally, they came. "Evangeline... Evangeline's gown. That's a piece of it—silver and pale lilac."
Mooney nodded curtly to Desirée. "Thank you, ma'am. That's all we needed—a positive identification of this. It looks as if we won't be troubled by the Ripper any longer."
Leaving everyone in stunned silence, the officer saluted and made a hasty retreat, carrying the scrap of Evangeline's bloodied gown with him.
Tense silence reigned in the room for several moments.
"I didn't want to believe it," Roman said quietly.
"Perhaps I should leave you a stronger sedative, Roman," Dr. Crozat offered.
"No more sedatives!" Roman flared. "It's over now. The wounds must heal by themselves!"
Dr. Crozat nodded and started for the door. Desirée saw him out.
"I'll see you next week, my dear."
"Yes," she promised.
Garnet did not return to Mahogany Hall after the terrifying events at the French Ball. Even if she'd wanted to go back, Patrick Sullivan would not have allowed it.
"It's not safe for you in the district, darlin'," he'd told her. "If you won't come to my place, then go stay with your mother, at least for the time being."
So that's what she did. Sully stayed close the whole night, watching over her, protecting her. She was thankful for his presence.
Garnet had always considered herself a strong person. But the sight of her dead friend had taken the starch out of her. She was a bundle of nerves now, jumping at the slightest sound, dodging shadows, experiencing terrible nightmares if she dared drift off to sleep.
Near dawn, she woke up with her brain burning like fire. She had had a dream that was so real she couldn't shake it off. She'd been in some dark, frightening place. A swamp, it seemed like. Night creatures were screaming all about her, and mosquitoes buzzed in her ears and bit her face and body. When she cried out, she heard a woman's voice saying, "Hush, child! You don't want your daddy to catch us!"
The woman hadn't been talking to her. She had spoken to another person, running along beside them. A little girl in a long, pink gown.
The dream had ended in such terror—the angry shouts of men, the barking of a vicious dog, the scream of an alligator—and a baby, Garnet herself, wailing pitifully with fear.
She came awake with a start, shivering, covered with cold sweat. What did it mean? She'd never been lost in a swamp in her whole life. So why did the dream terrify her so? Was she going crazy?
She wondered if she would ever be herself again. She couldn't go on like this. What kind of life would she have if she spent it hidden away from the rest of the world?
But at the present, that's all she wanted, that and the comforting nearness of Patrick Sullivan. She could not yet face reality.
Even Sully hadn't been able to save Evangeline, though, she reminded herself somberly. Garnet sat up in bed and hugged her knees to stop her shivering. Most of what had happened at the ball was all fuzzy in her memory now. Blessedly so! But one thing remained all too vivid. She could still hear the killer's voice over Evangeline's screams as he stabbed her to death. His words had been very distinct: "It's your turn, Garnet! You've done me wrong for the last time. You're nothing but a slut, a wanton, a whore, Garnet Gold!"
Try as she might, she'd been unable to identify the voice. There had been so much confusion and terror closing in at that moment. It would come to her eventually. She was as sure of that as she was of the fact that the killer would return for her once he realized his mistake.
A sob of pure misery tore itself from Garnet's throat. She put her head down on her knees and rocked back and forth.
"Darlin', what is it?"
Sully was there beside her, holding her, trying to chase away her terror. She relaxed against him, letting him bear the weight of her fears.
When she was calm enough to speak, she whispered, "Sully, take me away from here! Away from New Orleans! Otherwise, I don't have a chance!"
He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Hush, now, darlin'. Don't talk that way. You're in no danger. I'm right here to protect you."
Suddenly, Garnet felt her fears closing in again. She gripped Sully's arms and sobbed, "Please, please! Take me away from New Orleans!"
He held her close, feeling her heart racing against his chest. "Whatever you say, Garnet. Wherever you want to go. You just tell me and we're off!"
A week later, Desirée kept her appointment with Dr. Crozat. She had hoped that by the time she returned from the doctor's office, Roman would be in a better mood. At least she found him up and dressed and shaved for the first time since that terrible night. But his temper was blacker than ever.
"I trust old Crozat found you in the pink of health," he said by way of greeting.
Her spirits plummeted. He still seemed angry with her, as if Evangeline's death and L'Enfant's guilt were all _her_ fault. Instead of telling him her news, she said simply, "I'm fine, Roman."
"Good! Then I'm going out."
She tried to stop him; she needed to talk. Besides, he wasn't strong enough yet. He brushed past her when she attempted to catch his arm.
"Roman, please don't. You aren't completely recovered yet, and it's such nasty weather out. You'll catch your death!"
He turned and gave her a humorless smile. "No more or less than I desire!"
So the new pattern of their lives seemed formed. Every evening Roman left Desirée alone. When he returned in the morning, he was gruff, weary, and uncommunicative. All the lovely plans she'd had for their life together seemed to have died that night with Evangeline.
Desirée cried herself to sleep every night. When she arose in the morning, she steeled herself against his brief greeting as he returned home. He would sleep all day, then leave her again as the sun was setting.
After more than a week of such treatment, Desirée decided she had had enough. Yes, he was still recovering from his wounds, but that was no reason for her to be subjected to his foul temper and nighttime disappearances. Either he wanted her for his wife or he did not. It was high time she found out which!
It was near six. Roman was up, dressing to leave for the night. These days the white shotgun cottage came to mind more often than Desirée would have liked. If he had a mistress, it was time she knew.
Steeling herself for the row she was sure to provoke, Desirée marched into his bedroom without knocking.
"Going out again?" she demanded.
He gave her only a quick glance. "I am!"
"Well, before you go, I have a few things to say to you, Roman. As your wife, I feel I have the right to speak my piece."
"I'm listening." But he didn't look at her. He continued dressing as if she were not even in the room.
"Roman, I love you, but I will not be treated like some common... common..."
"Go ahead, Desirée, say it! I won't be shocked."
"You know what I mean!" she cried. "Roman, I'm your _wife_! Doesn't that mean anything to you anymore?"
"Of course it does," he answered coolly. "It means that I am obligated to provide for you—shelter, food, clothing."
He might as well have slapped her face. "What about _love_?" she demanded.
"I'm afraid I have very little of that left to give. I'm sorry." His tone softened just a bit. He turned to face her. "Desirée, I'm not the same man I was before I killed Yves L'Enfant."
"But he was a _murderer_!" she cried. "He killed, not just once, but many times! How can you feel any remorse at taking his life?"
He turned from her again, and her heart sank. "I am a doctor. Doctor's are supposed to save lives, not take them."
Desirée was desperate now, willing to go to any ends to save her marriage. "Roman, don't you know what else Yves L'Enfant was? He was the man who took your first wife, who made her his lover, then took her life. Courtney never committed suicide. _She was murdered!_ By _Yves L'Enfant_!"
When Roman turned to stare at her, she thought she saw murder in his eyes. Surely, she had never seen such pain in any man's face before. But he calmed himself before he spoke. "You don't know that, Desirée. No one knows that for sure. It was _my_ fault she died."
Desirée ran to him and threw her arms around him. "Roman, no! None of this is your fault!"
She felt his whole body quaking against her. For a moment, she took heart. Perhaps she had finally gotten through to him. Hoping against all hope that she had, she blurted out her news. "Roman, my visit to Dr. Crozat last week—I'm going to have your child."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then he lifted her face to his and kissed her deeply. Her whole body reacted to his tender caresses. When he drew away, his face wore a sadder expression than ever.
"This should never have happened. I'm sorry, Desirée," he whispered. "Sorry for you and for the child."
The next moment he released her and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" she screamed, sobbing wildly.
"Out!" he answered. And the door closed firmly behind him.
It was some time before Desirée could pull herself together, but with more emotional fortitude than she thought she possessed, she renewed her determination to save her marriage. There was more at stake now than simply their two lives, their happiness. She had the baby to think of. She was determined that her child—growing even now close to her heart—would know a happier life than either she or Roman had experienced. That happiness and security demanded both a mother _and_ a father.
Drawing on a thick cape against the rain and wind, Desirée went out to the street and hailed a cab.
"Rampart Street," she directed the driver.
She had made her plans. She would go to the shotgun cottage and confront Roman's mistress. Whoever the woman was, she would know shortly. By the end of the evening, Roman St. Vincent would be forced into making a choice. She was gambling that he would choose his wife and child over his kept woman.
As the hack drew near, Desirée noted that the blinds were closed and only a faint light streamed through the parlor windows. Another lamp was glowing in one of the back rooms. Probably the bedroom, she thought with a grimace. She had hoped she might catch them at supper, _before_ Roman took his mistress to bed. She didn't relish the thought of interrupting them in the act. She wasn't sure she could deal with such a scene.
Desirée noted as she approached the walk that the purple petunias had all wilted in the cold. She knew exactly how they felt. As she neared the front door, she heard quiet voices inside. She leaned toward the door and listened, but only a soft murmur was audible. The tender whispers of lovers, she thought with a stab of pain. How could Roman be so gruff with her and so gentle and quiet when he came to his mistress?
Without giving herself time to change her mind, she rapped the knocker loudly. When the door opened, Desirée's spirits sank. The young woman standing before her was so beautiful!
"I wish to see Roman St. Vincent."
The woman said nothing, but stared at her most disconcertingly.
"Well, is my husband here?"
The girl with the large eyes and long, dark hair nodded. "He is. Won't you come in?"
Suddenly, Desirée felt the urgent need to dash back to the waiting cab, to let it whisk her away into the night. How could she face Roman? What would she say to him? His other woman was lovely and gentle and soft-spoken—everything Roman had told her a mistress should be. Everything, Desirée told herself, that she was not!
"He is in the bedroom, Madame," the woman said, indicating the narrow hallway with a graceful sweep of her hand.
Oh, God! Desirée thought. How can I deal with this?
She groped her way down the hall, feeling her knees weak beneath her. When she neared the room, she heard another woman's voice.
"Yes, California. We'll start a new life. You'll come with us. We'll all be fine." Her voice broke with emotion.
_Garnet?_ Could it be?
Desirée hurried toward the open door, stopping short when she saw several people in the room. Roman was there, hovering over an old woman in the bed. On the far side, Garnet stood next to Patrick Sullivan. She was crying softly. He had his arm around her, trying to lend comfort.
"Desirée!" Roman spotted her first and said her name softly. His surly tone had vanished, but his handsome face was even more grim than she remembered it.
At the sound of her name, the woman in the bed stirred and moaned. She was struggling to raise her head. Roman leaned down to hear her whisper.
"She wants you to come nearer," he told Desirée, a puzzled expression on his face.
Desirée moved toward the bed and leaned down to let the woman see her more clearly.
She coughed wretchedly for a time before she managed to say, "Desirée child, don't you remember me?"
Desirée shot a questioning glance toward Roman. He shook his head and whispered, "She's out of her head, I'm afraid."
"Who is she?" Desirée asked quietly.
Garnet answered tearfully, "My mama."
"No!" came the raspy voice from the bed. "No, Garnet... _Innocente_!"
The name meant nothing to Garnet, who smothered a sob at her mother's denial.
Desirée's eyes grew wide. She was staring from Garnet to the woman on the bed and back to Garnet.
_"Maum Goldie?"_ Desirée managed at last. "Can it really be you? After all these years?"
As tears streamed down Desirée's face, Roman suddenly understood. Desirée had told him all about her childhood, her lost sister, and the nurse who had tried to rescue both of them from their unfeeling father and stepmother. But Desirée had never mentioned the nurse's name. If only she had, how quickly he could have untangled the mystery of her relationship to Garnet.
"I done a lot of folks a lot of harm in my time," the sick woman said weakly. Everyone else remained silent, frozen in place, straining to hear. "But the two of you, my sweet babies, I done you worst of all. Can you ever forgive me? Desirée? Innocente?"
"No, Mama, don't!" Garnet cried. "Why do you keep calling me that? Don't you know who I am? It's me, your own daughter!"
Desirée turned and looked at her little sister. She reached out and touched her hand. "She knows who you are! She also knows that your real name is Innocente La Fleur and that you and I are sisters. She must have given you the name 'Garnet' to protect you from discovery, in case our father came looking for you. And 'Gold' is a common enough name here in New Orleans—and part of her own name. She made up a whole new identity for you, to keep you safe. Maum Goldie always loved you so much, Garnet. She still does."
Garnet's mouth opened, but no words came out.
Roman broke the silence. "I'm afraid that Goldie also knows she hasn't much time left. She's trying to set things right before she goes. I'm sorry, Garnet. I've done everything I can.... But Goldie is worn out, I'm afraid."
_Goldie!_ The name tolled like a bell in Desirée's distant memory.
Desirée turned to Garnet, tears misting her eyes. The two women went into each other's arms, sobbing. When their emotions were finally under control, they stood back, just staring at each other.
"I didn't have any idea," Garnet explained. "But those dreams I been having about the swamp and the other little girl—those were real, weren't they? I never could remember my early years, but I guess it's beginning to come back to me."
"Probably because of the emotional upset of New Year's Eve," Roman said. "Now that your memory has started returning, it will probably all come back with time."
Roman took his weeping wife into his arms, holding her close and stroking her hair. "I'm sorry about the way I've treated you," he whispered. "It's not your fault; none of what happened was your fault. It was L'Enfant all along. How could I have misjudged him so?"
"Oh, Roman!" Desirée sighed, relief flooding through her.
"And I am happy about the baby, darling. May I tell everyone now? I think Goldie, most of all, would like to hear."
Desirée nodded, smiling through her tears.
"We have some news," Roman said to the others. "Desirée's going to have a child. We just found out."
The murmur of congratulations that followed Roman's announcement fell silent as Maum Goldie said, "One leaves and another takes her place. I wish I could be here to take care of that precious baby. I'd do better than I done by you girls."
Desirée and Garnet were both crying again. They went to their old nurse and kissed her, assuring her that she had done the best she could. When Maum Goldie breathed her last, she went peacefully, in the arms of the two people she loved most in all the world.
It was late that night before everyone left the shotgun cottage. Roman insisted that Garnet and Patrick Sullivan return with them to the house on Esplanade. Adelé, too, came along to visit her mother.
The weary group settled in the front parlor, the men with brandies, the women with tea. For a long time they sipped silently.
"Well, it's been a helluva night," Roman said at last. "I'm sorry about Goldie. She was a good woman. Adelé and I did all we could."
Suddenly, Adelé's role in all this dawned on Desirée. With everything else that had happened during the evening, she'd completely forgotten that she went to the shotgun cottage bent on confronting Roman and his _mistress_. She saw it all plainly now. Leda's lovely daughter was instead Roman's nurse.
Roman, seeming to sense his wife's thoughts, leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You are too wonderful, darling! How have you put up with me all this time?"
Desirée hugged him soundly, feeling the weight of the world lifted from her shoulders. Her Roman was back! "Well, it hasn't been easy, love!"
"I think they'll make it all right," Garnet said to Sullivan, nodding to indicate the pair on the sofa, caressing tenderly as they whispered between themselves.
"Oh, I imagine they will," Patrick Sullivan agreed. "And as for you and me, young lady..." He cleared his throat loudly to get Roman's and Desirée's attention. "I hate to interrupt, but since you've made your announcement, Roman, I have one of my own to share. Garnet—beg pardon—Innocente and I are getting married!"
Roman and Desirée both voiced their hearty approval and congratulations, but Garnet turned a stupefied look on her lover. "Sully, what are you saying? You know we can't..."
"I'd just like to know _why_ we can't!" he said with a self-satisfied smirk. "If you're Desirée's sister, that means you had the same parents. _White_ parents, darlin'! There's not a thing in this world keeping you from becoming Mrs. Patrick Sullivan!"
Garnet's eyes went wide. Until Sully stated the plain facts, the real truth hadn't dawned on her. She was _Creole_ with a capital C, through and through!
"Well, honey, we just better do it fast and get on our way to California, then!" Garnet cried. "I'm ready for a whole new life!"
The two rose and said their good-byes for the evening. It was obvious that they wanted to be alone together to discuss their wedding plans.
When they were gone, Roman turned to Desirée, his blue eyes smoky with desire. Without a word, he took her hand and led her to their bedroom, to the bed they had not shared for so long.
Suddenly, spring came to Desirée's heart in mid-January. Her husband wanted her. He needed her, but not half as much as she needed him. All her old fears took wing as he slowly, carefully undressed her, loving every inch of her along the way.
The night was dark and cold and dreary. It rained and the wind was never weary. But in the house on Esplanade, a roaring fire lit the master bedroom, and love warmed the hearts, the very souls of Desirée and Roman St. Vincent.
All the anguish of days and weeks gave way to love. As Roman held his wife in his arms—in their own bed—it seemed as if a black cloud had lifted from their lives. He loved her slowly, thoroughly, to the outer limits of ecstasy.
Afterward, they lay in each other's arms, letting the past slip away as the firelight painted fanciful pictures of future happiness.
Desirée clung to her husband, and he kissed his way down to where their unborn child lay sleeping. Warmth filled her and radiated from her body.
"Roman, will it always be like this?" she asked dreamily.
"No, my darling," he answered. "It will be better and better as the years go by."
She smiled and drew him back to her lips, kissing him with new tenderness.
The wind raged outside and the cold rain drummed on the roof, but Desirée St. Vincent felt only the warmth and comfort of her husband's love. Gone were the old fears and uncertainties. With the new century had dawned a new life for the two of them.
Roman leaned down and touched his lips to Desirée's smile.
"Happy, darling?" he whispered.
She wrapped her arms around her husband and drew him close to show him just _how_ happy she really was.
All through the rainy, windy night, they explored new depths of passion, ecstasy, and love.
###
# Epilogue
_Storyville_
_November 12, 1917_
Garnet St. Vincent, her duster flapping in the wind, skillfully steered her new Ford roadster into Basin Street, avoiding one of its many potholes. The traffic was heavy, and every cart and wagon that passed seemed to be piled high with gaudy furniture, mirrors, china crates, and Chinese screens.
"Please slow down, dear," her mother begged. "We're almost there."
Desirée St. Vincent clutched her writing pad with one hand, and her seat with the other. She had yet to get used to her daughter's driving or this new-fangled machine. At her age, she was happy to sit behind the old black mare and plod through the familiar streets of New Orleans.
What was all the hurry these days? she wondered.
"You say it's number 235, Mother?"
"Yes. You can't miss Mahogany Hall, dear. Watch for the cupola and the stained glass window over the front door."
Garnet shot an admiring glance at the dark-haired woman beside her. "I can't believe you're actually doing this, Mother!"
Desirée laughed and patted her daughter's hand. "You sound just like your father, Garnet. He's been saying those very words to me for years."
"But to actually come to Storyville to say good-bye to one of _those_ women!"
"I wish you wouldn't say it that way, Garnet. Lulu White is an old friend. I've known her for almost twenty years, since I first came to New Orleans. And your Aunt Innocente was even closer to her than I. She wrote from San Francisco and asked especially that I give her regards to Lulu before she leaves town."
Garnet shook her head, then she sighed. "Oh, you two must have led exciting lives when you were younger! Everything's so tame nowadays. I was born too late. I missed all the fun!"
Desirée chuckled in spite of herself. "I wouldn't exactly call it _fun_ , dear. Times were not so easy back then. I was a writer, covering the worst part of town. And your aunt, well, she helped me."
"How? I've never quite understood that, Mother?"
Desirée looked toward her beautiful daughter. Garnet had never been told that she was named for a prostitute. Nor did she know that her Aunt Innocente, the queen of the San Francisco society matrons, had ever been other than an upright citizen, wife of a prominent politician, and mother of three strapping sons.
"Well, dear, you might say Innocente was my 'leg man' back in those days. She knew a lot of people in the city, people who were willing to tell her what was going on. She'd pass the information along to me, then I would write the stories for the paper. My book about the Red-light Ripper and his victims came about through my newspaper work."
Garnet shook her head again. "And Father actually allowed you to do it! That seems hard to believe."
"Well, at least he didn't exactly forbid it!" Desirée answered, then laughed. "Oh, here we are, dear!"
Garnet brought the Ford to a bouncing halt and leaned back, shading her deep blue eyes against the bright sun to get a better look at the cupola.
"Wow! This is _some_ place!"
Desirée gave her a nudge. "Don't gape, dear! It isn't ladylike. Come along. There's Lulu herself at the front door."
"Well, Lord, Lord!" The madam's shrill voice drifted down to them. "I ain't believin' these old eyes! Desirée St. Vincent? How many years has it been?"
Desirée noted that her usually garrulous daughter was suddenly too overcome at the sight of Lulu White to speak. The aging bawd's diamonds blazed in the sun, and her red wig was adorned with plumes and high combs.
The two old friends shook hands. Then Desirée said, "Lulu White, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Miss Innocente Garnet St. Vincent. Now that she's in college, she insists we call her by her middle name. She says Innocente is too old-fashioned. As her father says, 'A flaming reformer just like her mother!'"
Lulu gave Desirée a quick wink of reassurance. She'd been warned in advance that the girl knew nothing of her aunt's past. Lulu vowed she'd be the last person to let the cat out of the bag. When she offered her hand to Garnet, the young woman took it with only slight hesitation.
"Come on in if you can stand the mess," Lulu invited. "The auctioneers have about stripped the place clean. I guess by tomorrow this time the souvenir hunters will have taken what's left. But I'll be leaving soon, and I mean to travel light."
Desirée hadn't thought she'd feel a moment's twinge at seeing Storyville close. After all, this was exactly what she'd fought for all these years. Yet as she walked inside and saw the men hauling a bed down the wide mahogany stairway that had given this place its name, she experienced a moment of nostalgia. So many women over the years—her own sister among them—had called this old mansion home. For most of those who remained, it was the only home they had. She turned to Lulu and saw tears in the woman's blue eyes.
"Where will you go?" Desirée asked gently.
Lulu swiped angrily at her misting eyes. "Lord, honey, I could go _anywhere_! Maybe I'll head for Hollywood and see if I can locate that scoundrel, George Killshaw, that run off with all my investment money a few years back. I still think moving pictures are the thing of the future. There's a pile of money to be made out in that California orange grove!"
Desirée remembered the stories she'd heard about Lulu and her lover taking a train to California ten years before. Lulu had made all the plans to buy land and equipment to go into the movie-making business, starring in some of her own films. She'd made her mistake when she trusted Killshaw with all the finances while she returned to New Orleans to oversee her business. She'd never seen her lover or her money since.
"Innocente says California's nice," Desirée agreed.
"Hell, who'm I kidding?" Lulu laughed a low, sad laugh. "By the time those scavenger auctioneers get finished with me, I'll be about back where I started. I might just have to jump a train and head on back to Selma, Alabama, to that dirt farm I come from way back when."
Desirée felt a new stab of pain for the woman. This was the first time she'd ever heard Lulu admit that she was not "West Indian, from a fine, old family."
"Wanna see upstairs?" Lulu asked Garnet suddenly.
"Oh, could I?" the girl's eyes were aglow with wonder.
"Sure, come on. We'll have to use the stairs, though. The elevator ain't working no more."
Desirée hesitated. In these past years, she'd often wondered about that room upstairs. She had never been in it after that one fateful night.
"Coming, Desirée?" Lulu called.
She waited only a moment longer before making up her mind. What could it hurt after all this time?
Dull-eyed women moved up and down the hall, carrying bags, speaking in subdued tones. Desirée noted that they appeared to be in shock. No one had believed that the Navy could really close Storyville. Everyone, even the town fathers, had thought that Tom Anderson, with all his political clout and financial prowess, would grease the right palms to keep the district open. But he hadn't managed it, and now the death knell was tolling. At midnight, Storyville would close.
"Most of the rooms has been stripped already," Lulu told them. "I left this one and mine to last."
Desirée's breath caught. It was Garnet's old room.
"Come on in," Lulu invited, watching Desirée closely to note her reaction.
"My goodness!" Garnet said. "This looks just like a plain old bedroom."
Desirée smiled, remembering her own reaction on first seeing it. She glanced about. Nothing had changed. It was almost as if she had been here only the night before, but so much had happened since then. So much time had passed. Her own daughter was the age now that the first Garnet had been back then.
"Try the bed, honey!" Lulu told Garnet. "It's real comfortable!"
"No!" the word caught in Desirée's throat. It was too late anyway. Garnet had flopped down on the counterpane, stretching and sighing. Desirée turned away quickly so they couldn't see the horror on her face.
"So, here you are!" A man's voice from the doorway made them all turn.
"Roman!" Desirée stammered. "How did you find us here?"
"Easy!" He gave her a warm, lazy smile. "I just followed our daughter's dust, then I spotted the roadster out front and figured you must be up here having one last look around."
"Not exactly!" Desirée answered in a stiff tone. "I merely came to tell Lulu good-bye."
"Hey, Garnet, come with me. I'll show you my room," Lulu invited, sensing that Roman wanted to be alone with his wife.
When they departed, Roman went to Desirée and took her hand, holding it gently in his.
"This was Garnet's room," he said softly. "It's almost as if she's still here, isn't it?"
"Yes," Desirée whispered, relieved that he hadn't mentioned the other significant fact about this particular room. Then she turned to her husband—her handsome Roman, with silver at his temples now, but the same loving nature, the same twinkle in his storm-blue eyes. She clung to him. "But my sister's _not_ here, Roman! She escaped! And now all the others will, too." She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's _over_ , Roman, _at last_!"
He held her close and stroked her hair, fingering the few silver strands that gleamed here and there. He would let her believe what she would. Yes, Storyville was gone, but the women would only move their business to other locations.
"Desirée, listen to me!" He lifted her face to his and kissed her. "You're my wife, and you've been my mistress..." His eyes strayed to the waiting bed and he grinned like a boy. "There's still time. And we're alone. How would you like to be my... ?"
Desirée covered his mouth with her hand before he could say the word. "Don't even _think_ such a thing, Dr. St. Vincent! Why, I never!"
"All right, all right!" He backed away, looking crestfallen. "It was just a thought!"
A seductive smile curved Desirée's lips suddenly. Two could play the game! She swayed toward Roman, invitation in her every move. "I'll make you another proposition, though."
He let his hands grip her waist and drew her against him. "Yes?"
"You might drop by the carriage house around six this evening."
Desirée felt an immediate reaction, his heat rising. They hadn't made love in the old brass bed over the stable since before Garnet's birth. All these years, she'd been his wife, his only lover. Tonight she was offering once more to be his mistress.
Roman leaned down and put his lips to her ear. "You, sweetheart, have yourself an assignation!"
Garnet wondered what had gone on behind that closed door in Mahogany Hall. All the way home, her mother hummed to herself, and her face was absolutely glowing. The other odd thing was that neither her father nor her mother put up the slightest argument when she requested last minute permission to spend the night with Rosemarie Duplantier and her younger sister that very evening.
"Go and have a good time, dear," her father told her, grinning like a schoolboy with a secret crush.
"Give our love to Nanine and Placide and the girls," her mother added, fairly rushing her out of the house.
Their daughter would have been even more shocked had she seen the filmy lace gown her mother wore that night as she greeted her lover at the stable door, or had she seen him stripping it from her while the old black mare looked on.
"Anxious, aren't you, love?" Desirée said with a girlish giggle.
Roman swept her into his arms and up the stairs. "It's been a while, sweetheart!"
"Not so long, darling! Why only last week in the library..."
As he kicked open the door to the apartment he caught one nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. "That was my wife. Tonight I have my mistress!"
And have her he did! Slowly, painstakingly, Roman made love to Desirée throughout the tiny apartment. On the window seat, he sat and stroked her. On the sofa in the parlor, he kissed her, head to toe. By the time they finally reached the bed, Desirée once more knew a young woman's passion and desire. But it was more than that now. She was mature and at her very peak of sensuality. No young woman could have understood so well how to satisfy her lover.
The coming of dawn found them still entwined—two halves of the perfect whole.
Desirée shivered with renewed pleasure as her husband slowly moved inside her. Her hands played over his body, her knees gripped his waist, and deep, deep down she felt the ultimate ecstasy rising once again.
They clutched at each other, savoring the feeling. As it slowly subsided, Desirée sighed and said, "Can it get any better, darling?"
Roman kissed her softly, gratefully. "Oh, Desirée, my Desirée! With you, sweetheart, always!"
###
# More from Becky Lee Weyrich
_**Captive of Desire**_
When beautiful Zephromae watched her brother taken away as a tribute slave, she knew she must rescue him. Her childhood sweetheart, the noble and courageous Alexander, followed to protect her. But he couldn't save her from a ruthless king, the lust of a savage prince or the fury of a spiteful queen who had power over them all.
But Zephromae possessed a secret strength that no one could have possibly imagined—and she would not hesitate to use it. Set in Crete in the heart of the Minoan culture Captive of Desire sweeps the reader into an ancient world of adventure and romance.
_**Rainbow Hammock**_
Lilah Fitzpatrick's childhood sweetheart broke her heart when he married another woman. She never thought she'd find the kind of love she lost. Then Steele Denegal—a fearless Yankee soldier—swept her into his world of passion and captured her heart.
Suddenly Steele disappears, leaving Lilah alone and vulnerable to a treacherous man who's determined to destroy her, along with the memory of Steele's love. Will the promise in their passion find a future, or will Steele return before it's too late?
_**Sands of Destiny**_
While vacationing in Egypt, Pia Byrd finds herself transfixed by a miniature crystal pyramid. Roused by her intrigue, a handsome Greek sailor purchases it and, before she can protest, breaks it in two. Suddenly she finds herself plunged back through time and into the body of a queen. Standing before her is a golden-eyed Darius, a man with features—and the yearning—of a god.
Caught between her life in the present and the primal desires of her past, Pia will find a love both passionate and primitive, but can it exist in two ages?
**_Savannah Scarlett_**
When Scarlett Lamar returns home to Savannah to restore her mother's ancestral mansion, she has no idea the antique mirror that she's been captivated by since childhood is actually a window to her past.
Before long, Scarlett becomes the target of a passionate rivalry between two men from her past. While Allen Overman, both charming and seductive, wants Scarlett enough to pursue her across the rivers of time, Bolton Conrad has loved her since he first saw her walk into her first Cotillion ball—on the arm of Allen. Now Scarlett is back in Bolton's life, setting off a series of events that will either join their hearts or tear them apart forever.
**_Swan's Way_**
The grand plantation of Swan's Quarter still echoes with memories of another time. It is there that Ginna Jones meets Neal Frazier, a recovering plane crash survivor. Young and handsome, but disturbingly familiar, Ginna is instantly drawn to this mysterious man.
When a walk in the garden sends the pair spiraling back through the veils of time, their fates become entwined with those of two young lovers separated by the Civil War. Plunged into another century, Ginna and Neal will discover destinies still waiting to be fulfilled, and a flame of passion that not even the passage of time can extinguish.
_**Once Upon Forever**_
In the arms of Union Soldier Hunter Breckinridge, Clair Sumner finds love both true and impossible. In a century that isn't her own, she lives another woman's life, and loves another woman's husband. As she's haunted by visions of an eerie moonbow, Clair must risk her past and future for a passion that spans two worlds, and a love stronger than time itself.
_**Silver Tears**_
When her mother is condemned as a witch and sent to the gallows, Alice Wiggins flees her English homeland to escape the same fate. In the colony of Maine, an inheritance awaits her— as does Christopher Gunn, an arrogant stranger who ignites a restless sensuality deep inside the young beauty.
In the splendor of the Northeast woods, headstrong Alice is brought to blissful surrender by a desire too powerful to resist. But as she fears that Christopher's heart isn't hers alone, she'll challenge the violence of war, the hazards of nature, and even death for his love.
_**Summer Lightning**_
Captain Damien Clay, a fearless, freewheeling member of Morgan's Raiders, disguises himself as a woman to help win the war for the Confederates. But beneath the veil of his charade, he is all man.
Lavinia Rutledge cut off her striking red hair to go undercover as Private Vinnie Rutledge of Thunderbolt Plantation. But under the façade is a voluptuous, hot-blooded woman.
When this unlikely pair find one another, sparks fly and the flame of forbidden passion ignites.
_**Tainted Lilies**_
Nicolette Vernet discovers the passion of true love that she's always dreamed of in the arms of the infamous pirate Jean Lafitte. Equally enthralled with the young beauty, Jean wants nothing more than to bask in the purity of Nikki's love.
But Nikki's father has betrothed her to a ruthless, greedy man, and Nikki and Jean must fight for their lives, and their love, to hold onto the precious rapture they find only in each other.
###
# Connect with Diversion Books
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@DiversionBooks
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|
import { Component, OnInit } from '@angular/core';
import { MatDialog} from '@angular/material/dialog';
import { LoginComponent } from '../login/login.component';
import {MatDialogConfig} from "@angular/material/dialog";
import {Router} from '@angular/router'
import { DataService } from '../data.service';
@Component({
selector: 'app-header',
templateUrl: './header.component.html',
styleUrls: ['./header.component.scss']
})
export class HeaderComponent implements OnInit {
logincheck:string="";
user_names: string= "";
constructor(public dialog: MatDialog, private router:Router, private data:DataService) { }
ngOnInit(): void {
this.data.currentlogincheck.subscribe(logincheck=>this.logincheck=logincheck);
this.data.currentuser.subscribe(user_names=>this.user_names=user_names);
console.log("check", this.logincheck);
console.log(this.user_names);
}
//User Login Form
openLoginForm(): void {
const dialogConfig = new MatDialogConfig();
dialogConfig.disableClose = true;
dialogConfig.autoFocus = true;
let dialogRef = this.dialog.open(LoginComponent, {width: '500px', height: '450px'});
}
//Link to Homepage
goToPage(page:string):void{
this.router.navigate([`${page}`]);
}
//Link to About page
goToAbout(page:string):void{
this.router.navigate([`${page}`]);
}
scroll(el: HTMLElement) {
el.scrollIntoView();
}
loggedout(page:string):void
{
this.data.changeLoginCheck("not login");
this.router.navigate([`${page}`]);
}
}
|
<reponame>timfel/netbeans
/*
* Licensed to the Apache Software Foundation (ASF) under one
* or more contributor license agreements. See the NOTICE file
* distributed with this work for additional information
* regarding copyright ownership. The ASF licenses this file
* to you under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the
* "License"); you may not use this file except in compliance
* with the License. You may obtain a copy of the License at
*
* http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
*
* Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing,
* software distributed under the License is distributed on an
* "AS IS" BASIS, WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY
* KIND, either express or implied. See the License for the
* specific language governing permissions and limitations
* under the License.
*/
package org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration;
import junit.framework.Test;
import junit.textui.TestRunner;
import org.netbeans.jellytools.EditorOperator;
import org.netbeans.jellytools.modules.java.editor.GenerateCodeOperator;
import org.netbeans.jemmy.operators.JTreeOperator;
import org.netbeans.junit.NbModuleSuite;
import org.netbeans.test.java.editor.jelly.GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator;
/**
*
* @author jp159440
*/
public class CreateGetterSetterTest extends GenerateCodeTestCase {
public CreateGetterSetterTest(String testMethodName) {
super(testMethodName);
}
public void testAvailableGettersSetters() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER_SETTER,editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_AND_SETTERS);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
int rowCount = jto.getRowCount();
ggso.cancel();
assertEquals("Wrong number of rows",5,rowCount);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testAvailableGetters() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER, editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_ONLY);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
int rowCount = jto.getRowCount();
ggso.cancel();
assertEquals("Wrong number of rows",6,rowCount);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testAvailableSetters() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_SETTER,editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.SETTERS_ONLY);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
int rowCount = jto.getRowCount();
ggso.cancel();
assertEquals("Wrong number of rows",6,rowCount);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testPrimitiveType() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER_SETTER,editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_AND_SETTERS);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(2);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public int getNum() {\n"+
" return num;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public void setNum(int num) {\n"+
" this.num = num;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testObjectType() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER_SETTER,editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_AND_SETTERS);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(4);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public List<? extends Thread> getThreads() {\n"+
" return threads;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public void setThreads(List<? extends Thread> threads) {\n"+
" this.threads = threads;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testBooleanType() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER_SETTER,editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_AND_SETTERS);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(1);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public boolean isBool() {\n"+
" return bool;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public void setBool(boolean bool) {\n"+
" this.bool = bool;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testStaticType() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER_SETTER,editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_AND_SETTERS);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(3);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public static int getStatField() {\n"+
" return statField;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public static void setStatField(int statField) {\n"+
" CreateGetterSetter.statField = statField;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testMultipleSetter() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_SETTER, editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.SETTERS_ONLY);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(3);
jto.selectRow(2);
jto.selectRow(1);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public void setNum(int num) {\n"+
" this.num = num;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public void setBool(boolean bool) {\n"+
" this.bool = bool;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public void setHasGetter(int hasGetter) {\n"+
" this.hasGetter = hasGetter;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testMultipleGetter() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER, editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_ONLY);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(1);
jto.selectRow(2);
jto.selectRow(3);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public int getNum() {\n"+
" return num;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public boolean isBool() {\n"+
" return bool;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public int getHasSetter() {\n"+
" return hasSetter;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public void testArray() {
openSourceFile("org.netbeans.test.java.editor.codegeneration", "CreateGetterSetter");
editor = new EditorOperator("CreateGetterSetter");
txtOper = editor.txtEditorPane();
try {
editor.requestFocus();
editor.setCaretPosition(11, 1);
editor.txtEditorPane().typeText("int [] pole;");
GenerateCodeOperator.openDialog(GenerateCodeOperator.GENERATE_GETTER_SETTER, editor);
GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator ggso = new GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator(GenerateGettersAndSettersOperator.GETTERS_AND_SETTERS);
JTreeOperator jto = ggso.treeTreeView$ExplorerTree();
jto.selectRow(3);
ggso.generate();
String expected = "" +
" public int[] getPole() {\n"+
" return pole;\n"+
" }\n"+
"\n"+
" public void setPole(int[] pole) {\n"+
" this.pole = pole;\n"+
" }\n";
waitAndCompare(expected);
} finally {
editor.close(false);
}
}
public static void main(String[] args) {
TestRunner.run(CreateGetterSetterTest.class);
}
public static Test suite() {
return NbModuleSuite.create(
NbModuleSuite.createConfiguration(CreateGetterSetterTest.class).enableModules(".*").clusters(".*"));
}
}
|
CEOs are finally embracing social media's role in engaging business and customers, according to a recent IBM Global CEO Study.
For businesses, social media is currently the least-utilized method for connecting with their audiences. The hierarchy of connecting is as follows: face-to-face interactions, websites, channel partners, call centers, traditional media, advisory groups, and then, finally, social media.
However, social media is expected to jump to the number two spot within three to five years — and traditional media will plummet to the bottom of the list — according to IBM's report of their findings.
Out of the 1,709 CEOs interviewed for the study — hailing from 64 countries and 18 industries — only 16% currently participate in social media. However, that percentage is expected to grow to 57% within the next five years, according to the IBM analysis.
As Mashable previously reported, these numbers coincide with the "conservative optimism" regarding social media engagement for businesses. More than half of business owners (64%) believe in social media as a useful tactic for marketing — they just aren't willing to jump into it full-force yet.
Despite that hesitation, more and more CEOs are recognizing the potential for social media to change how their companies and organizations can communicate with the world.
"One of the most compelling findings [of the survey] is how in tune CEOs are about the implications and impact of social media," stated Bridget van Kralingen, senior vice president of IBM Global Business Services, in the press release of the study. "Rather than repeating the familiar lament about de-personalizing human relationships, this view leans heavily in favor of deepening them, and using dynamic social networks to harness collective intelligence to unlock new models of collaboration."
Personalizing these relationships with customers is the top priority for these CEOs. Nearly three-quarters of those polled (73%) are investing significantly in ways to better gain meaningful insights from their customers. Openness and interaction — not just advertising — on social media sites like Facebook and Twitter just might be at the heart of this more individualized interaction.
"We use social media less as a marketing or distribution channel and more as a knowledge platform to obtain information about customers," said an insurance CEO from Switzerland.
The takeaway? With a stronger presence on social media sites and more personalized interactions with customers on these channels, "control is shifting from institutions to individuals," the report stated.
If you're a CEO or leader in business, do these findings agree with your experience? How else are you looking to engage with customers? Let us know in the comments. |
Delayed Tuberculin Reactivity in Indochinese Persons TO THE EDITOR: The study by Robertson and colleagues evaluated the utility of a variant of delayed tuberculin reactivity for the evaluation of patients with suspected tuberculous infection in a high-risk population. The approach is ingenious, but we would like to make some comments. The appropriate criterion for defining a positive skin-test reaction depends on the population being tested. In a recent report by the Ad Hoc Committee of the Scientific Assembly on Microbiology, Tuberculosis, and Pulmonary Infections, a reaction of 5 mm was considered positive in close contacts of infectious cases and in patients who had fibrotic lesions on chest radiography. In a group of patients in which 26% of chest radiographs suggested tuberculosis, it would be unusual to have only 29% of tuberculin purified protein derivative (PPD) test results identified as positive. A possible explanation is that the authors considered the positivity of PPD to be 10 mm. We would like to know how many patients had induration greater than 5 mm in the PPD readings and whether including the results of these patients as positives would substantially change the results. If that is the case, the paper would support the concept that in populations with a high prevalence of tuberculosis, 5 mm of induration after PPD testing should be considered positive. Second PPD tests would then be limited to patients with induration less than 5 mm. |
This June the University of Geneva will launch the largest citizen science project yet conceived, enlisting hundreds of thousands of video gamers in the search for undiscovered exoplanets. The project will be launched in EVE Online, a video game set in a fictional galaxy that players tour in spaceships as they compete for resources and dominance of virtual territory.
The effort shows how the limits of algorithmic automation can be overcome through clever crowdsourcing, and it shows how the communities built around video games can be tapped to perform useful tasks.
In conjunction with Massively Multiplayer Online Science (MMOS), a company that pairs game makers with scientists, EVE players will be given access to 167,000 light curve images, collected by the European Space Agency satellite CoRoT, which launched in December 2006. “To date, scientists have found around 30 planets inside the data set,” said Michel Mayor, winner of the 2017 Wolf Prize for Physics and discoverer of the first exoplanet. “We estimate there are around a dozen undiscovered planets still hidden within the images.”
For centuries astronomers suspected that there may be other planets beyond the ones found in our own solar system. But it wasn’t until 1992 that humans had the means to detect and verify the existence of these so-called exoplanets, using high-power telescopes and spectrometer technology. More than 3,600 exoplanets have been discovered since then. Most have been found using a technique known as transit photometry, which detects minor changes in light whenever a planet passes in front of the star around which it orbits. By measuring the length and regularity of this dimming effect, it is possible to extrapolate a great deal of information about the planet, including its radius, mass, and density.
In recent years computer algorithms have been able to sift through much of the huge amount of data collected to date by various exoplanet-hunting satellites and telescopes, leading to, most recently, NASA’s discovery of three potentially life-sustaining planets in the relatively close Trappist-1 system. Algorithms, however, are only able to parse the most straightforward light data. More complicated imagery that features lots of noise, or irregular spikes in the light curves, can be read only by humans. The amount of brain power required to sift through the information presents a problem for exoplanet-hunting scientists.
The exoplanet project will be folded into EVE Online’s existing fiction and narrative (a virtual version of Mayor will “run” the project in-game). At the height of the game’s popularity, there were more than half a million players. C.C.P., the Reykjavik-based company that makes EVE Online, no longer reports player numbers.
When players happen upon something interesting, an alert will be sent to the game’s developers. The object will then be checked against a list of known planets. After five separate players have sent an alert for the same image, it will then be sent to the University of Geneva for further investigation.
It’s not the first time that EVE Online’s player base has contributed to scientific research. For the past year, players have been helping to map the Human Protein Atlas, a Swedish-run effort to catalogue proteins and the genes that encode them in both normal tissue and cancerous tumors. In that case, players were able to, at any point, take a break from their dogfighting, mining, and trading to play a simple game within the game, marking differences between hundreds of thousands of microscopic images. Players threw themselves into the work: the data set was fully marked within just three weeks.
The search for exoplanets won’t be completed so quickly. Once the data set from CoRoT has been completed, the game will be fed a new data set, from Kepler, NASA’s space observatory, which was responsible for finding the potentially life-sustaining planets in the Trappist-1 system. “It has endless potential to scale,” says Bergur Finnbogason, one of the game’s designers.
More broadly, the dream behind these experiments is, Mayor says, to find the existence of life in the universe. “We already have the technology to detect chloride and other molecules that facilitate vegetation. It will not be easy, but it is possible.” |
import { mount } from '@vue/test-utils';
import { ref, reactive, nextTick, markRaw } from 'vue';
import {
VecDefaultTime,
VecEvent,
VecFocusedEventState
} from '../../src/index';
import { setDayJsLang } from '../../src/lib/dayjs';
import { setI18n } from '../../src/locales/index';
import { useCalendarActions } from '../../src/hooks/useCalendarActions';
import { July2021CalendarState, createEventsWithDates } from './utils';
import VECEvent from '../../src/components/Event.vue';
import EventComponent from './EventComponent.vue';
describe('Edit, save and remove an event', () => {
setI18n('en');
setDayJsLang('en');
const defaultProps = {
event: {
id: 3,
es_id: 20210902,
startsAt: new Date('2021-09-02T10:00:00.000Z'),
finishesAt: new Date('2021-09-05T17:00:00.000Z'),
editing: false
} as VecEvent,
saveEventFn: async (event: VecEvent) => {},
editEventFn: async (event: VecEvent) => {},
removeEventFn: async (event: VecEvent) => {}
};
const defaultProvide = {
eventsState: ref<VecEvent[]>(
createEventsWithDates(['2021-09-02:2021-09-05'])
),
calendarState: July2021CalendarState(),
defaultTimeState: reactive({
startsAtTime: '10:00',
finishesAtTime: '17:00'
}) as VecDefaultTime,
focusedEventState: ref(null) as VecFocusedEventState
};
test("The event's card will focused when the focusedEvent state changes", async () => {
const focusedEventState = ref(null) as VecFocusedEventState;
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide, focusedEventState }
}
});
expect(
wrapper.find('#vec-es-id-20210902').classes('vec-event_focused')
).toBe(false);
focusedEventState.value = { es_id: 20210902 };
await nextTick();
expect(
wrapper.find('#vec-es-id-20210902').classes('vec-event_focused')
).toBe(true);
});
test('Click to button Edit changes state of the event and of the day to editing', async () => {
const calendarState = July2021CalendarState();
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: {
...defaultProps,
saveEventFn: async (event: VecEvent) => {
return {
id: 100,
// 02–05 September 2021, 10:00–17:00
startsAt: new Date('2021-09-02T10:00:00'),
finishesAt: new Date('2021-09-05T17:00:00'),
data: { title: 'New title', text: 'New text' }
};
}
},
global: {
provide: {
...defaultProvide,
calendarState
}
}
});
const eventElem = wrapper.get('#vec-es-id-20210902');
const day = calendarState.months[2].days[1];
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
expect(eventElem.classes('vec-event_editing')).toBe(false);
expect(day.editing).toBe(false);
expect(editButton.text()).toBe('Edit');
await editButton.trigger('click');
await nextTick();
expect(editButton.text()).toBe('Save');
expect(eventElem.classes('vec-event_editing')).toBe(true);
expect(day.editing).toBe(true);
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(eventElem.classes('vec-event_editing')).toBe(false);
expect(editButton.text()).toBe('Edit');
});
test('Before starting editing, the async function editEventFn is resolved', () => {
let functionResolved = false;
const editEventFn = async () => {
functionResolved = true;
};
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps, editEventFn },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide }
}
});
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
expect(functionResolved).toBe(false);
editButton.trigger('click');
expect(functionResolved).toBe(true);
});
test('After finishing editing, async function saveEventFn processes a new data and sends the result back to the event', async () => {
const eventsState = ref(createEventsWithDates(['2021-09-02:2021-09-05']));
const saveEventFn = async () => {
return {
id: 5,
startsAt: new Date('2021-09-02T10:00:00.000Z'),
finishesAt: new Date('2021-09-05T17:00:00.000Z'),
data: {
title: 'New title',
text: 'New text'
}
};
};
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps, saveEventFn },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide, eventsState }
}
});
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
expect(eventsState.value[0].data).toBeUndefined;
await editButton.trigger('click');
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(eventsState.value[0].data).toEqual({
title: 'New title',
text: 'New text'
});
});
test('Rise and show the error if a date from a server is not the same or invalid', async () => {
const eventsState = ref(createEventsWithDates(['2021-09-02:2021-09-05']));
const errorText =
'Something went wrong: dates was changed. Expected: 2021-09-02, 10:00 and 2021-09-05, 17:00. Received: 2021-08-10, 10:00, 2021-09-05, 17:00';
const saveEventFn = async () => {
return {
id: 5,
startsAt: new Date('2021-08-10T10:00:00.000Z'),
finishesAt: new Date('2021-09-05T17:00:00.000Z')
};
};
const consoleErrorSpy = jest.spyOn(console, 'error');
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps, saveEventFn },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide, eventsState }
}
});
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
await editButton.trigger('click');
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(consoleErrorSpy).toHaveBeenCalledWith(new Error(errorText));
expect(wrapper.get('.vec-event__server-error').text()).toBe(errorText);
expect(eventsState.value[0].startsAt).not.toEqual(
new Date('2021-08-10T10:00:00.000Z')
);
expect(editButton.text()).toBe('Save');
});
test('Show error if a response object from a server has property <error>', async () => {
const errorText = 'This is error from server';
const saveEventFn = async () => {
return {
error: errorText
};
};
const consoleErrorSpy = jest.spyOn(console, 'error');
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps, saveEventFn },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide }
}
});
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
await editButton.trigger('click');
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(consoleErrorSpy).toHaveBeenCalledWith(new Error(errorText));
expect(wrapper.get('.vec-event__server-error').text()).toBe(errorText);
expect(editButton.text()).toBe('Save');
});
test('Show cancel button if the event is editing', async () => {
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide }
}
});
expect(wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')).toHaveLength(2);
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')).toHaveLength(3);
const cancelButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
expect(cancelButton.text()).toBe('Cancel');
await cancelButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')).toHaveLength(2);
expect(wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1].text()).toBe('Edit');
});
test('After click on the remove button and confirm this action the event removes from eventsState and calendarState (not from testing DOM — it wrappers itself)', async () => {
const calendarState = July2021CalendarState();
const eventsState = ref<VecEvent[]>(
createEventsWithDates(['2021-09-02:2021-09-05'])
);
const { calendarFillEvents } = useCalendarActions(
calendarState,
eventsState,
{ startsAtId: null, finishesAtId: null },
defaultProvide.focusedEventState
);
calendarFillEvents();
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: { ...defaultProps },
global: {
provide: { ...defaultProvide, calendarState, eventsState }
}
});
const eventElem = wrapper.find('#vec-es-id-20210902');
const day = calendarState.months[2].days[1];
const removeButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[0];
expect(eventElem.exists()).toBe(true);
expect(day.es_id).toBe(20210902);
expect(wrapper.find('.vec-guard-alert').exists()).toBe(false);
// First check if click on button 'No' and cancel removing
await removeButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.find('.vec-guard-alert').exists()).toBe(true);
const noButton = wrapper.findAll(
'.vec-guard-alert__buttons .vec-button'
)[0];
await noButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.find('.vec-guard-alert').exists()).toBe(false);
// Then click on 'Yes' button and remove event
await removeButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.find('.vec-guard-alert').exists()).toBe(true);
const yesButton = wrapper.findAll(
'.vec-guard-alert__buttons .vec-button'
)[1];
await yesButton.trigger('click');
expect(day.es_id).toBe(null);
expect(eventsState.value).toHaveLength(0);
});
test('Add an external component inside the event body, render it and get data from it', async () => {
const event = createEventsWithDates(['2021-09-02:2021-09-05'])[0];
event.data = {
title: 'Title',
text: 'Text'
};
const wrapper = mount(VECEvent, {
props: {
...defaultProps,
event,
eventComponent: markRaw(EventComponent)
},
global: {
provide: {
...defaultProvide
}
}
});
expect(wrapper.find('#event-component').exists()).toBe(true);
expect(wrapper.get('#event-title').text()).toBe('Title');
expect(wrapper.get('#event-text').text()).toBe('Text');
expect(wrapper.find('#input').exists()).toBe(false);
// Edit will change component with isEventEditing props
const editButton = wrapper.findAll('.vec-button')[1];
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.find('#event-input').exists()).toBe(true);
wrapper.find('#event-input').setValue('Title changed');
// Finish editing
await editButton.trigger('click');
expect(wrapper.find('#input').exists()).toBe(false);
expect(wrapper.get('#event-title').text()).toBe('Title changed');
});
});
|
Management Development for Headteachers This paper focuses upon the theme of management development for headship. It sets out a context framed by a series of management development initiatives for education currently being launched by the Teacher Training Agency. In this, priority has been given to the development of a National Professional Qualification for Headship. The author claims that this major national policy innovation ought to be welcomed but needs to be understood in the light of the history of national policy on school management training, in order to identify the conditions most likely to promote the success of the latest initiative. It presents an analytical and semi-historical account of developments in theory, research, policy and practice in this area. |
/*
* Copyright (c) 2009-2021 jMonkeyEngine
* All rights reserved.
*
* Redistribution and use in source and binary forms, with or without
* modification, are permitted provided that the following conditions are
* met:
*
* * Redistributions of source code must retain the above copyright
* notice, this list of conditions and the following disclaimer.
*
* * Redistributions in binary form must reproduce the above copyright
* notice, this list of conditions and the following disclaimer in the
* documentation and/or other materials provided with the distribution.
*
* * Neither the name of 'jMonkeyEngine' nor the names of its contributors
* may be used to endorse or promote products derived from this software
* without specific prior written permission.
*
* THIS SOFTWARE IS PROVIDED BY THE COPYRIGHT HOLDERS AND CONTRIBUTORS
* "AS IS" AND ANY EXPRESS OR IMPLIED WARRANTIES, INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED
* TO, THE IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY AND FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR
* PURPOSE ARE DISCLAIMED. IN NO EVENT SHALL THE COPYRIGHT OWNER OR
* CONTRIBUTORS BE LIABLE FOR ANY DIRECT, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, SPECIAL,
* EXEMPLARY, OR CONSEQUENTIAL DAMAGES (INCLUDING, BUT NOT LIMITED TO,
* PROCUREMENT OF SUBSTITUTE GOODS OR SERVICES; LOSS OF USE, DATA, OR
* PROFITS; OR BUSINESS INTERRUPTION) HOWEVER CAUSED AND ON ANY THEORY OF
* LIABILITY, WHETHER IN CONTRACT, STRICT LIABILITY, OR TORT (INCLUDING
* NEGLIGENCE OR OTHERWISE) ARISING IN ANY WAY OUT OF THE USE OF THIS
* SOFTWARE, EVEN IF ADVISED OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.
*/
package com.jme3.input;
/**
* A specific API for interfacing with the keyboard.
*/
public interface KeyInput extends Input {
/**
* unmapped key.
*/
public static final int KEY_UNKNOWN = 0x00;
/**
* escape key.
*/
public static final int KEY_ESCAPE = 0x01;
/**
* 1 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_1 = 0x02;
/**
* 2 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_2 = 0x03;
/**
* 3 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_3 = 0x04;
/**
* 4 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_4 = 0x05;
/**
* 5 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_5 = 0x06;
/**
* 6 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_6 = 0x07;
/**
* 7 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_7 = 0x08;
/**
* 8 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_8 = 0x09;
/**
* 9 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_9 = 0x0A;
/**
* 0 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_0 = 0x0B;
/**
* - key.
*/
public static final int KEY_MINUS = 0x0C;
/**
* = key.
*/
public static final int KEY_EQUALS = 0x0D;
/**
* back key.
*/
public static final int KEY_BACK = 0x0E;
/**
* tab key.
*/
public static final int KEY_TAB = 0x0F;
/**
* q key.
*/
public static final int KEY_Q = 0x10;
/**
* w key.
*/
public static final int KEY_W = 0x11;
/**
* e key.
*/
public static final int KEY_E = 0x12;
/**
* r key.
*/
public static final int KEY_R = 0x13;
/**
* t key.
*/
public static final int KEY_T = 0x14;
/**
* y key.
*/
public static final int KEY_Y = 0x15;
/**
* u key.
*/
public static final int KEY_U = 0x16;
/**
* i key.
*/
public static final int KEY_I = 0x17;
/**
* o key.
*/
public static final int KEY_O = 0x18;
/**
* p key.
*/
public static final int KEY_P = 0x19;
/**
* [ key.
*/
public static final int KEY_LBRACKET = 0x1A;
/**
* ] key.
*/
public static final int KEY_RBRACKET = 0x1B;
/**
* enter (main keyboard) key.
*/
public static final int KEY_RETURN = 0x1C;
/**
* left control key.
*/
public static final int KEY_LCONTROL = 0x1D;
/**
* a key.
*/
public static final int KEY_A = 0x1E;
/**
* s key.
*/
public static final int KEY_S = 0x1F;
/**
* d key.
*/
public static final int KEY_D = 0x20;
/**
* f key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F = 0x21;
/**
* g key.
*/
public static final int KEY_G = 0x22;
/**
* h key.
*/
public static final int KEY_H = 0x23;
/**
* j key.
*/
public static final int KEY_J = 0x24;
/**
* k key.
*/
public static final int KEY_K = 0x25;
/**
* l key.
*/
public static final int KEY_L = 0x26;
/**
* ; key.
*/
public static final int KEY_SEMICOLON = 0x27;
/**
* ' key.
*/
public static final int KEY_APOSTROPHE = 0x28;
/**
* ` key.
*/
public static final int KEY_GRAVE = 0x29;
/**
* left shift key.
*/
public static final int KEY_LSHIFT = 0x2A;
/**
* \ key.
*/
public static final int KEY_BACKSLASH = 0x2B;
/**
* z key.
*/
public static final int KEY_Z = 0x2C;
/**
* x key.
*/
public static final int KEY_X = 0x2D;
/**
* c key.
*/
public static final int KEY_C = 0x2E;
/**
* v key.
*/
public static final int KEY_V = 0x2F;
/**
* b key.
*/
public static final int KEY_B = 0x30;
/**
* n key.
*/
public static final int KEY_N = 0x31;
/**
* m key.
*/
public static final int KEY_M = 0x32;
/**
* , key.
*/
public static final int KEY_COMMA = 0x33;
/**
* . key (main keyboard).
*/
public static final int KEY_PERIOD = 0x34;
/**
* / key (main keyboard).
*/
public static final int KEY_SLASH = 0x35;
/**
* right shift key.
*/
public static final int KEY_RSHIFT = 0x36;
/**
* * key (on keypad).
*/
public static final int KEY_MULTIPLY = 0x37;
/**
* left alt key.
*/
public static final int KEY_LMENU = 0x38;
/**
* space key.
*/
public static final int KEY_SPACE = 0x39;
/**
* caps lock key.
*/
public static final int KEY_CAPITAL = 0x3A;
/**
* F1 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F1 = 0x3B;
/**
* F2 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F2 = 0x3C;
/**
* F3 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F3 = 0x3D;
/**
* F4 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F4 = 0x3E;
/**
* F5 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F5 = 0x3F;
/**
* F6 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F6 = 0x40;
/**
* F7 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F7 = 0x41;
/**
* F8 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F8 = 0x42;
/**
* F9 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F9 = 0x43;
/**
* F10 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F10 = 0x44;
/**
* NumLK key.
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMLOCK = 0x45;
/**
* Scroll lock key.
*/
public static final int KEY_SCROLL = 0x46;
/**
* 7 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD7 = 0x47;
/**
* 8 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD8 = 0x48;
/**
* 9 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD9 = 0x49;
/**
* - key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_SUBTRACT = 0x4A;
/**
* 4 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD4 = 0x4B;
/**
* 5 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD5 = 0x4C;
/**
* 6 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD6 = 0x4D;
/**
* + key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_ADD = 0x4E;
/**
* 1 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD1 = 0x4F;
/**
* 2 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD2 = 0x50;
/**
* 3 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD3 = 0x51;
/**
* 0 key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPAD0 = 0x52;
/**
* . key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_DECIMAL = 0x53;
/**
* F11 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F11 = 0x57;
/**
* F12 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F12 = 0x58;
/**
* F13 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F13 = 0x64;
/**
* F14 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F14 = 0x65;
/**
* F15 key.
*/
public static final int KEY_F15 = 0x66;
/**
* kana key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_KANA = 0x70;
/**
* convert key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_CONVERT = 0x79;
/**
* noconvert key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_NOCONVERT = 0x7B;
/**
* yen key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_YEN = 0x7D;
/**
* = on num pad (NEC PC98).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPADEQUALS = 0x8D;
/**
* circum flex key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_CIRCUMFLEX = 0x90;
/**
* @ key (NEC PC98).
*/
public static final int KEY_AT = 0x91;
/**
* : key (NEC PC98)
*/
public static final int KEY_COLON = 0x92;
/**
* _ key (NEC PC98).
*/
public static final int KEY_UNDERLINE = 0x93;
/**
* kanji key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_KANJI = 0x94;
/**
* stop key (NEC PC98).
*/
public static final int KEY_STOP = 0x95;
/**
* ax key (Japanese).
*/
public static final int KEY_AX = 0x96;
/**
* (J3100).
*/
public static final int KEY_UNLABELED = 0x97;
/**
* PrtScr key.
* Note: for use on keyboards with a PrtScr key that is
* separate from the SysRq key. Most keyboards combine
* SysRq and PrtScr so if the intent is to actually
* capture the user's desire to capture the screen
* then SysRq is the most likely scan code.
* Use PrtScr to catch the rest (laptops, mini-keyboards, etc.)
*/
public static final int KEY_PRTSCR = 0x9A;
/**
* Enter key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPADENTER = 0x9C;
/**
* right control key.
*/
public static final int KEY_RCONTROL = 0x9D;
/**
* , key on num pad (NEC PC98).
*/
public static final int KEY_NUMPADCOMMA = 0xB3;
/**
* / key (num pad).
*/
public static final int KEY_DIVIDE = 0xB5;
/**
* SysRq key.
*/
public static final int KEY_SYSRQ = 0xB7;
/**
* right alt key.
*/
public static final int KEY_RMENU = 0xB8;
/**
* pause key.
*/
public static final int KEY_PAUSE = 0xC5;
/**
* home key.
*/
public static final int KEY_HOME = 0xC7;
/**
* up arrow key.
*/
public static final int KEY_UP = 0xC8;
/**
* PgUp key.
*/
public static final int KEY_PRIOR = 0xC9;
/**
* PgUp key.
*/
public static final int KEY_PGUP = KEY_PRIOR;
/**
* left arrow key.
*/
public static final int KEY_LEFT = 0xCB;
/**
* right arrow key.
*/
public static final int KEY_RIGHT = 0xCD;
/**
* end key.
*/
public static final int KEY_END = 0xCF;
/**
* down arrow key.
*/
public static final int KEY_DOWN = 0xD0;
/**
* PgDn key.
*/
public static final int KEY_NEXT = 0xD1;
/**
* PgDn key.
*/
public static final int KEY_PGDN = KEY_NEXT;
/**
* insert key.
*/
public static final int KEY_INSERT = 0xD2;
/**
* delete key.
*/
public static final int KEY_DELETE = 0xD3;
/**
* Left "Windows" key on PC keyboards, left "Option" key on Mac keyboards.
*/
public static final int KEY_LMETA = 0xDB;
/**
* Right "Windows" key on PC keyboards, right "Option" key on Mac keyboards.
*/
public static final int KEY_RMETA = 0xDC;
public static final int KEY_APPS = 0xDD;
/**
* power key.
*/
public static final int KEY_POWER = 0xDE;
/**
* sleep key.
*/
public static final int KEY_SLEEP = 0xDF;
/**
* the last key.
*/
public static final int KEY_LAST = 0xE0;
/**
* Determine the name of the specified key in the current system language.
*
* @param key The keycode from {@link com.jme3.input.KeyInput}
* @return the name of the key
*/
public String getKeyName(int key);
}
|
. There are two essential steps in the analysis of carcinogenic risks in the work place: first, a descriptive approach which might raise the suspicion of an agent related to the frequency of a disease or mortality rate and then the analytical approach, based on retrospective and prospective cross-sectional studies. Such studies allow proof of the existence of a relation between a carcinogenic product and the frequency of lung cancer. The richer the contribution of such studies, the more difficult their accomplishment. All these studies assume that certain constraints are accepted: a precise protocol, collection of correct data, choice of a relevant population to be studied and controlled when necessary; rigorous supervision of each cohort under observation in the prospective studies, provision made for distorting factors. Such studies ought to result in averting occupational cancers rather than detecting them when clinically or radiologically apparent. |
/**
* <pre>
* TotalDeposited queries total coins deposited to hard liquidity pools.
* </pre>
*/
public com.google.common.util.concurrent.ListenableFuture<kava.hard.v1beta1.QueryOuterClass.QueryTotalDepositedResponse> totalDeposited(
kava.hard.v1beta1.QueryOuterClass.QueryTotalDepositedRequest request) {
return futureUnaryCall(
getChannel().newCall(getTotalDepositedMethod(), getCallOptions()), request);
} |
Romanian Statistical Yearbook
The Romanian Statistical Yearbook (Romanian: Anuarul Statistic al României) is an annual publication of the National Institute of Statistics that presents data about the economic and social situation in Romania.
The first yearbook appeared in 1902. The second, from 1912, came to over 800 pages, and presented data regarding the country's economic and social evolution over the previous decade. A third edition, covering the years 1915-1916, was begun in 1916 but did not appear until 1919, due to World War I. The next yearbook, covering 1922, came in 1923, and was followed by annual editions through 1940, a few of them describing two years. The 1931 edition was notable for incorporating data from the 1930 census and the 1931 election. For the first time, the 1931-1932, 1933 and 1934 editions included detailed data about the main exports from the 1929-1932 period, as well as statistics relating to the census of school-age children. The 1934 yearbook contained detailed information about agriculture, particularly in regard to the surface area devoted to fruit trees, the state of zootechnics and the number of tractors. The 1939-1940 yearbook was the final one before the communist regime resumed their publication after a 17-year gap. Annual statistical communiqués helped compensate for this absence in the 1945-1948 period.
The next yearbook was published in 1957 and covered the years 1951-1955. Its authors noted that older data were adapted to current methodology, and that they were recalculated for the current national territory, which was smaller than that of Greater Romania. For the remainder of the regime's existence, which came to an end with the Romanian Revolution of 1989, yearbooks continued to appear annually. The editions of 1987, 1988 and 1989 were brochures of around 100 pages that indicated exponential growth in all areas of economic and social activity. The 1990 yearbook readopted the practice of including a number of indicators for the country's economic and social evolution. During the 1990s, the yearbook returned to a length of 700-1000 pages. Beginning in 1990, in the interests of transparency, relevance and credibility, the yearbook featured indicators previously hidden from public view. Examples include the use of economic resources, gross domestic product, national wealth, energy, housing and income, spending and consumption of the populace. The authors focused on aligning with international standards as well as including correct and comprehensive data for users of statistical information. The 2009 yearbook appeared in a special jubilee edition commemorating 150 years of official statistics in Romania.
The yearbook includes the most recent data available in order to draw a picture of the economic situation and of the main economic indicators' evolution over the preceding few years. It is divided into twenty-three chapters: geography, meteorology and environment; population; workforce; income, spending and consumption; housing and public utilities; security and social assistance; health; education; culture and sport; prices; National Accounts; investments and tangible assets; science, technology and innovation; agriculture and forestry; business activity; industry and construction; transport, post and telecommunications; international trade; domestic trade and market services; tourism; finance; justice system; international statistics. The publication appears in print and comes with a CD-ROM that includes national and regional data in Microsoft Excel. |
<reponame>AzeezBello/raodoh
from django import forms
from .models import Profile
from django.contrib.auth.models import User
from django.contrib.auth.forms import UserCreationForm, UserChangeForm
from django.core.files.images import get_image_dimensions
class UserForm(UserCreationForm):
# password = forms.CharField(widget=forms.PasswordInput())
class Meta:
model = User
fields = ('username', 'first_name', 'last_name', 'email')
class ProfileForm(forms.ModelForm):
class Meta:
model = Profile
fields = ('birth_date', 'avatar')
def clean_avatar(self):
avatar = self.cleaned_data['avatar']
try:
w, h = get_image_dimensions(avatar)
# validate dimensions
max_width = max_height = 100
if w > max_width or h > max_height:
raise forms.ValidationError(
u'Please use an image that is '
'%s x %s pixels or smaller.' % (max_width, max_height))
# validate content type
main, sub = avatar.content_type.split('/')
if not (main == 'image' and sub in ['jpeg', 'pjpeg', 'gif', 'png']):
raise forms.ValidationError(u'Please use a JPEG, '
'GIF or PNG image.')
# validate file size
if len(avatar) > (20 * 1024):
raise forms.ValidationError(
u'Avatar file size may not exceed 20k.')
except AttributeError:
"""
Handles case when we are updating the user profile
and do not supply a new avatar
"""
pass
return avatar
# class ProfileChangeForm(UserChangeForm):
# """A form for updating users. Includes all the fields on the user, but replaces the
# password field with admin's password hash display field. """
#
# class Meta:
# model = User
# fields = ('username', 'email', 'password')
|
/// Updates statuses for provided files in provided directory.
pub async fn command_update_statuses(
arweave: &Arweave,
glob_str: &str,
log_dir: &str,
output_format: Option<&str>,
buffer: usize,
) -> CommandResult {
let paths_iter = glob(glob_str)?.filter_map(Result::ok);
let log_dir = PathBuf::from(log_dir);
let output_format = get_output_format(output_format.unwrap_or(""));
let mut stream = update_statuses_stream(arweave, paths_iter, log_dir.clone(), buffer);
let mut counter = 0;
while let Some(Ok(status)) = stream.next().await {
if counter == 0 {
println!("{}", status.header_string(&output_format));
}
print!("{}", output_format.formatted_string(&status));
counter += 1;
}
if counter == 0 {
println!("The `glob` and `log_dir` combination you provided didn't return any statuses.");
} else {
println!("Updated {} statuses.", counter);
}
Ok(())
} |
Nonexplosion of a class of semilinear equations via branching particle representations We consider a branching particle system where an individual particle gives birth to a random number of offspring at the place where it dies. The probability distribution of the number of offspring is given by pk, k = 2, 3,. The corresponding branching process is related to the semilinear partial differential equation for x ∈ ℝ d, where A is the infinitesimal generator of a multiplicative semigroup and the pk s, k = 2, 3,, are nonnegative functions such that We obtain sufficient conditions for the existence of global positive solutions to semilinear equations of this form. Our results extend previous work by Nagasawa and Sirao and others. |
<gh_stars>10-100
"""
userparse2
By <NAME> (<EMAIL>)
Based on:
A python version of http://user-agent-string.info/download/UASparser
By <NAME> (http://hicrokee.com)
email: hicrokee AT gmail DOT com
Modified by <NAME> http://molhanec.net
Usage:
from uasparser2 import UASparser
uas_parser = UASparser('/path/to/your/cache/folder', mem_cache_size=1000)
result = uas_parser.parse('YOUR_USERAGENT_STRING')
"""
__all__ = ['UASParser', 'UASparser', 'EMPTY_RESULT']
from .uasparser import UASParser
from .constants import EMPTY_RESULT
from .uasparser import UASparser # deprecated
|
/*
* SPDX-License-Identifier: Apache-2.0
*
* Copyright 2008-2018 the original author or authors.
*
* Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
* you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
* You may obtain a copy of the License at
*
* http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
*
* Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
* distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
* WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
* See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
* limitations under the License.
*/
package griffon.util;
import javax.annotation.Nonnull;
import javax.annotation.Nullable;
import java.util.Enumeration;
import java.util.Iterator;
import java.util.LinkedHashMap;
import java.util.Map;
import java.util.ResourceBundle;
import static griffon.util.ConfigUtils.getConfigValue;
import static griffon.util.GriffonNameUtils.requireNonBlank;
import static java.util.Objects.requireNonNull;
/**
* @author <NAME>
* @since 2.0.0
*/
public class ExpandableResourceBundle extends ResourceBundle {
private final Map<String, Object> entries = new LinkedHashMap<>();
@Nonnull
public static ResourceBundle wrapResourceBundle(@Nonnull ResourceBundle resourceBundle) {
requireNonNull(resourceBundle, "Argument 'resourceBundle' must not be null");
if (!(resourceBundle instanceof ExpandableResourceBundle)) {
return new ExpandableResourceBundle(resourceBundle);
}
return resourceBundle;
}
public ExpandableResourceBundle(@Nonnull ResourceBundle delegate) {
requireNonNull(delegate, "Argument 'delegate' must not be null");
for (String key : delegate.keySet()) {
Object value = getConfigValue(delegate, key);
processKey(key, entries, value);
entries.put(key, value);
}
}
@SuppressWarnings("unchecked")
private void processKey(@Nonnull String key, @Nonnull Map<String, Object> map, @Nullable Object value) {
String[] keys = split(key);
if (keys[1] == null) {
map.put(keys[0], value);
} else {
Map<String, Object> m = (Map<String, Object>) map.get(keys[0]);
if (m == null) {
m = new LinkedHashMap<>();
map.put(keys[0], m);
}
processKey(keys[1], m, value);
}
}
@Nonnull
private String[] split(@Nonnull String input) {
int split = input.indexOf('.');
String head = split < 0 ? input : input.substring(0, split);
String tail = split > 0 ? input.substring(split + 1) : null;
return new String[]{head, tail};
}
@Nullable
@Override
protected final Object handleGetObject(@Nonnull String key) {
return entries.get(requireNonBlank(key, "Argument 'key' must not be blank"));
}
@Nonnull
@Override
public final Enumeration<String> getKeys() {
return new IteratorAsEnumeration<>(entries.keySet().iterator());
}
private static class IteratorAsEnumeration<E> implements Enumeration<E> {
private final Iterator<E> iterator;
public IteratorAsEnumeration(Iterator<E> iterator) {
this.iterator = iterator;
}
public boolean hasMoreElements() {
return iterator.hasNext();
}
public E nextElement() {
return iterator.next();
}
}
}
|
<filename>Shalom/src/com/yattatech/Shalom.java
/*
* Copyright (c) 2013, Yatta Tech and/or its affiliates. All rights reserved.
* YATTATECH PROPRIETARY/CONFIDENTIAL. Use is subject to license terms.
*/
package com.yattatech;
import com.yattatech.bg.SeminarySaver;
import com.yattatech.facade.SystemFacade;
import com.yattatech.form.AboutForm;
import com.yattatech.form.CoupleCRUDForm;
import com.yattatech.form.SeminaryForm;
import com.yattatech.util.SeminaryUtil;
import java.awt.BorderLayout;
import java.awt.Cursor;
import java.awt.event.ActionEvent;
import java.awt.event.ActionListener;
import java.awt.event.WindowAdapter;
import java.awt.event.WindowEvent;
import java.util.logging.Level;
import java.util.logging.Logger;
import javax.swing.JDialog;
import javax.swing.JFileChooser;
import javax.swing.JFrame;
import javax.swing.JMenu;
import javax.swing.JMenuBar;
import javax.swing.JMenuItem;
import javax.swing.JOptionPane;
import javax.swing.JProgressBar;
import javax.swing.SwingWorker;
import javax.swing.UIManager;
import javax.swing.UnsupportedLookAndFeelException;
import javax.swing.filechooser.FileNameExtensionFilter;
/**
* Main entry point for Shalom Seminário de vida no
* espírito santo.
*
* @author <NAME> (<EMAIL>)
*
*/
public final class Shalom {
private static final Logger LOGGER = Logger.getLogger("Shalom");
private static final SystemFacade FACADE = SystemFacade.getInstance();
private static final SeminarySaver SAVER = new SeminarySaver();
private static CoupleCRUDForm displayPanel;
public static void main(String... args) {
Thread.currentThread().setUncaughtExceptionHandler(new Thread.UncaughtExceptionHandler() {
@Override
public void uncaughtException(Thread t, Throwable e) {
LOGGER.log(Level.SEVERE, String.format("uncaughtException %s", e.getMessage()));
}
});
SeminaryUtil.createSeminaryFolder();
java.awt.EventQueue.invokeLater(new Runnable() {
@Override
public void run() {
setSystemLookAndFeel();
displayPanel = new CoupleCRUDForm();
JFrame displayFrame = new JFrame("SEMINÁRIO DE VIDA NO ESPÍRITO SANTO " + Constants.VERSION);
displayFrame.getContentPane().add(displayPanel);
displayFrame.setDefaultCloseOperation(JFrame.EXIT_ON_CLOSE);
displayFrame.pack();
displayFrame.setResizable(false);
displayFrame.addWindowListener(new WindowAdapter() {
@Override
public void windowClosing(WindowEvent e) {
LOGGER.info("closing main frame");
FACADE.saveSeminary();
}
@Override
public void windowClosed(WindowEvent e) {
// to be sure that we're really killing the jvm
// cause sometimes we're getting some pending ones
// it's causing a big memory footprint
System.exit(0);
}
});
addMenuBar(displayFrame);
displayFrame.setVisible(true);
if (FACADE.hasSeminaries()) {
openSeminaryFiles(displayFrame);
} else {
createSeminaryFile(displayFrame);
}
SAVER.start();
}
});
}
private static void openSeminaryFiles(JFrame displayFrame) {
LOGGER.info("openSeminaryFiles");
JFileChooser chooser = new JFileChooser(FACADE.getSeminaryFilesPath());
FileNameExtensionFilter fileFilter = new FileNameExtensionFilter("Arquivos Shalom", Constants.SHALOM_EXT);
chooser.setAcceptAllFileFilterUsed(false);
chooser.setFileFilter(fileFilter);
final int value = chooser.showOpenDialog(displayFrame);
if (value == JFileChooser.APPROVE_OPTION) {
if (FACADE.loadSeminary(chooser.getSelectedFile().getAbsolutePath())) {
final int size = FACADE.getSeminary().coupleSize();
// Don't change the order below, if you do it we gonna
// mess UI up
displayPanel.setCurrentIndex(size);
displayPanel.setLabelCoupleSize(size);
} else {
JOptionPane.showMessageDialog(displayFrame, "Não foi possível carregar arquivo de seminário.", "Erro", JOptionPane.ERROR_MESSAGE);
System.exit(2);
}
} else {
createSeminaryFile(displayFrame);
}
}
private static void createSeminaryFile(JFrame displayFrame) {
LOGGER.info("createSeminaryFile");
SeminaryForm seminaryForm = new SeminaryForm(displayFrame, true);
seminaryForm.setTitle("Novo Seminário");
seminaryForm.setDefaultCloseOperation(JFrame.DISPOSE_ON_CLOSE);
seminaryForm.pack();
seminaryForm.setLocationRelativeTo(displayFrame);
seminaryForm.setVisible(true);
}
private static void addMenuBar(final JFrame frame) {
LOGGER.info("addMenuBar");
JMenuBar menuBar = new JMenuBar();
JMenu menuSem = new JMenu("Seminário");
JMenu menuQuad = new JMenu("Quadrante");
JMenu menuHelp = new JMenu("Ajuda");
JMenuItem menuExit = new JMenuItem("Sair");
JMenuItem menuCreate = new JMenuItem("Gerar");
JMenuItem menuAbout = new JMenuItem("Sobre");
menuAbout.addActionListener(new ActionListener() {
@Override
public void actionPerformed(ActionEvent e) {
AboutForm aboutForm = new AboutForm(frame, true);
aboutForm.setTitle("Sobre");
aboutForm.setDefaultCloseOperation(JFrame.DISPOSE_ON_CLOSE);
aboutForm.pack();
aboutForm.setLocationRelativeTo(frame);
aboutForm.setVisible(true);
}
});
menuCreate.addActionListener(new ActionListener() {
@Override
public void actionPerformed(ActionEvent e) {
if (FACADE.getSeminary().hasCouples()) {
final String result = JOptionPane.showInputDialog(frame,
"Forneça o subtítulo para o quadrante.",
"",
JOptionPane.QUESTION_MESSAGE);
if (result != null) {
generateReport(frame, result);
} else {
LOGGER.info("User has canceled report generation");
}
} else {
JOptionPane.showMessageDialog(frame,
"Não existe casais cadastrados.",
"Aviso",
JOptionPane.INFORMATION_MESSAGE);
}
}
});
menuExit.addActionListener(new ActionListener() {
@Override
public void actionPerformed(ActionEvent e) {
final int result = JOptionPane.showConfirmDialog(frame,
"Deseja realmente sair?",
"Alerta",
JOptionPane.YES_NO_OPTION);
if (result == JOptionPane.YES_OPTION) {
frame.dispatchEvent(new WindowEvent(frame, WindowEvent.WINDOW_CLOSING));
frame.dispose();
}
}
});
menuBar.add(menuSem);
menuBar.add(menuQuad);
menuBar.add(menuHelp);
menuSem.add(menuExit);
menuQuad.add(menuCreate);
menuHelp.add(menuAbout);
frame.setJMenuBar(menuBar);
}
private static void generateReport(final JFrame frame, final String title) {
final Cursor cursor = frame.getCursor();
final JDialog dialog = new JDialog(frame);
final JProgressBar progress = new JProgressBar();
dialog.add(BorderLayout.CENTER, progress);
dialog.setSize(200, 40);
dialog.setModal(true);
dialog.setUndecorated(true);
dialog.setLocationRelativeTo(frame);
dialog.setDefaultCloseOperation(JDialog.DO_NOTHING_ON_CLOSE);
progress.setIndeterminate(true);
frame.setCursor(Cursor.getPredefinedCursor(Cursor.WAIT_CURSOR));
final SwingWorker<Boolean, Void> worker = new SwingWorker<Boolean, Void>() {
@Override
protected Boolean doInBackground() throws InterruptedException {
return FACADE.generateReport(title);
}
@Override
protected void done() {
frame.setCursor(cursor);
dialog.dispose();
}
};
worker.execute();
dialog.setVisible(true);
try {
if (worker.get()) {
JOptionPane.showMessageDialog(frame, "Quadrante gerado com sucesso.", "Sucesso", JOptionPane.INFORMATION_MESSAGE);
} else {
JOptionPane.showMessageDialog(frame, "Erro ao gerar o quadrante.", "Erro", JOptionPane.ERROR_MESSAGE);
}
} catch (Exception ex) {
LOGGER.log(Level.SEVERE, ex.getMessage());
}
}
private static void setSystemLookAndFeel() {
try {
UIManager.setLookAndFeel(UIManager.getSystemLookAndFeelClassName());
} catch (ClassNotFoundException cnfe){
LOGGER.log(Level.WARNING, cnfe.getMessage());
} catch (InstantiationException ie) {
LOGGER.log(Level.WARNING, ie.getMessage());
} catch (IllegalAccessException iae){
LOGGER.log(Level.WARNING,iae.getMessage());
} catch (UnsupportedLookAndFeelException ulfe) {
LOGGER.log(Level.WARNING, ulfe.getMessage());
}
}
}
|
/**
* Transforms all coordinates in the curve <em>permanently</em> by a
* transform.<br>
* <br>
* Not to be confused with the <em>temporary</em> transformations applied
* by a curve entity's transform to the meshes contained within the
* entity.<br>
* <br>
* Useful when consolidating multiple curve entities into one curve entity.
*
* @param tr the transform
*
* @return this curve
*/
public Curve2 transform ( final Transform2 tr ) {
final Iterator < Knot2 > itr = this.knots.iterator();
while ( itr.hasNext() ) { itr.next().transform(tr); }
return this;
} |
First Report of the Detection of DENV1 in Human Blood Plasma with Near-Infrared Spectroscopy Dengue virus (DENV) is the worlds most common arboviral infection, with an estimated 3.9 million people at risk of the infection, 100 million symptomatic cases and 10,000 deaths per year. Current diagnosis for DENV includes the use of molecular methods, such as polymerase chain reaction, which can be costly for routine use. The near-infrared spectroscopy (NIR) technique is a high throughput technique that involves shining a beam of infrared light on a biological sample, collecting a reflectance spectrum, and using machine learning algorithms to develop predictive algorithms. Here, we used NIR to detect DENV1 artificially introduced into whole blood, plasma, and serum collected from human donors. Machine learning algorithms were developed using artificial neural networks (ANN) and the resultant models were used to predict independent samples. DENV in plasma samples was detected with an overall accuracy, sensitivity, and specificity of 90% (N = 56), 88.5% (N = 28) and 92.3% (N = 28), respectively. However, a predictive sensitivity of 33.3% (N = 16) and 80% (N = 10) and specificity of 46.7% (N = 16) and 32% (N = 10) was achieved for detecting DENV1 in whole blood and serum samples, respectively. DENV1 peaks observed at 812 nm and 819 nm represent C-H stretch, peaks at 11301142 nm are related to methyl group and peaks at 2127 nm are related to saturated fatty groups. Our findings indicate the potential of NIR as a diagnostic tool for DENV, however, further work is recommended to assess its sensitivity for detecting DENV in people naturally infected with the virus and to determine its capacity to differentiate DENV serotypes and other arboviruses. Introduction DENV is a mosquito-borne single positive stranded RNA virus that belongs to the family Flaviviridae and genus Flavivirus. It is transmitted to humans primarily by the bite of Aedes mosquitoes. Aedes aegypti is the primary vector, whereas Aedes albopictus is considered the secondary vector. DENV is the world's most common arboviral infection, with an estimated 4 billion people living in 128 countries at risk. DENV infections have increased dramatically over the last 20 years, particularly in tropical countries. It is estimated that at least 390 million infections occur each year, with an estimated 300 million asymptomatic or subclinical cases. The incubation period ranges from 3 to 14 days and symptoms including joint pain, severe headache, macular rash, retro-orbital pain, and haemorrhagic manifestations can vary from 3 to 7 days. Diagnosis of DENV-infected patients, which is traditionally based on their signs and symptoms, follows the WHO DENV guidelines that classifies patients into the following two categories: DENV and severe DENV. For example, a patient with DENV is defined as a person experiencing fever and two or more other symptoms, as highlighted in the WHO guidelines, i.e., pain behind the eyes and severe headache. A severe DENV diagnosis consists of evidence of organ involvement and/or severe plasma leakage. Diagnosis based on signs and symptoms is not always reliable, as cases between human infections differ. A study that compared clinicians' diagnosis and WHO guidelines for diagnosis in Sri Lanka during a DENV1 epidemic found diagnosis performed by clinicians to be more specific, but less sensitive. The second DENV diagnostic technique, which involves detection of anti-DENV immunoglobulin antibodies (IgM and/or IgG) using enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay (ELISA), is the most widely used technique for confirmation of DENV infection, due to its relative ease of use compared to molecular techniques. However, because antibody titres can be low during initial infection, this technique has been shown to be less than 50% sensitive up to 4 days after onset of symptoms. Furthermore, it has been reported in >20% patients that a second infection significantly reduces IgM titres to undetectable levels. IgM can also circulate for roughly 60 days, whereas IgG circulation is lifelong, making diagnosis of any recent infections difficult. A recent study using ELISA to detect DENV NS1 monoclonal antibodies in suspected acute phase DENV patients showed an overall sensitivity of 84.85% for DENV serotypes 1, 2, 3 and 4. However, the sensitivity for DENV3 was 75%, and that of DENV4 was 66.6%. The third diagnostic technique involves the use of rapid diagnostic tests (RDTs) to detect conserved glycoprotein NS1, secreted by DENV infected cells during the acute viremic phase of infection ; this protein is assumed to be involved in viral replication. The SD BIOLINE DENV Duo RDT Kit based on the NS1 protein was reported to be 46.8% sensitive and 87.7-95.9% specific with a sample group of 246 mixed serotype DENV patients. Despite these promising findings of RDTs, results from these studies have shown that in secondary DENV infections, the NS1 window of detection is shortened due to the formation of antigen-antibody complexes with pre-existing IgG. Secondary DENV infections are usually more severe, making this a concerning drawback. Moreover, RDTs have been reported to have low sensitivities in some areas. For example, a study in Brazil found 49% of NS1 negative samples to be positive for DENV4. Molecular techniques, such as the use of reverse transcription PCR (RT-PCR) to detect DENV viral RNA, are the most accurate and sensitive diagnostic tools for all DENV serotypes. RT-PCR has been developed and applied extensively with the implementation of various PCR primers for DENV serotypes. The downside to this method is the requirement for expensive laboratory equipment and trained personnel, and the short window of opportunity for sampling, which must coincide with the viremic window of 3-5 days post infection. Moreover, despite various PCR DENV detection protocols being developed, not all of them have reliable accuracies. An external quality assessment of the RT-PCR method for DENV diagnosis from 46 datasets taken from 37 laboratories and 27 countries was compared and only 9 laboratories were considered acceptable for diagnostics purposes (detection of >10 3 genome equivalents/mL) and 5 for surveillance purposes (capable of serotyping DENV). More recently, Gao and colleagues used a tandem toehold-mediated displacement to detect up to six copies of dengue RNA in four serotypes. However, the technique still requires specialised equipment and trained personnel to operate. The near-infrared (NIR) technique involves the interaction of infrared radiation with biological samples to produce a diagnostic spectrum. Molecules absorb light at specific frequencies characteristic of their chemical structure which implies that different biological samples with unique chemical profiles have unique absorption and reflectance properties, which can be quantified as peaks on an infrared spectrum. Moreover, NIR is non-invasive, a spectrum can be acquired in seconds, and it does not require reagents to operate. To date, NIR has been applied to non-invasively predict the age of arbovirus and malaria vectors, differentiate mosquito species and non-invasively detect infection status within disease vectors, including Wolbachia, Zika and Chikungunya viruses, Plasmodium parasites and Trypanosoma cruzi parasite within Triatomine species. In a more recent study, NIR has been used to estimate the time post death of Aedes mosquitoes that were left unpreserved in traps for 7 days. Overall accuracies of NIR for all studies conducted range from 80 to 99%. However, to date, the use of NIR as a potential diagnostic tool for arboviruses has not been assessed. The main objective of this study was to determine the capability of the tool to detect DENV1 in whole blood, plasma, and serum under laboratory conditions. Human Blood and Serum In total, 46 biological replicates of whole blood and 15 biological replicates of serum samples (each consisting of 150 mL of pooled human serum samples) were obtained from Australian Red Cross Lifeblood using the human ethics protocol approved by the University of Queensland (ethics approval number 2020001077). Following collection from donors, all samples were routinely tested for hepatitis B and C, HTLV I/II, syphilis HIV 1/2, and ABO/Rh antigens. Whole blood was stored at 4 C while serum was stored at −25 C 3-4 days prior to the experiment. To obtain plasma, whole blood from each donor was separately centrifuged at 2400 RPM for 15 min. The supernatant (plasma) was carefully titrated out into a new tube and used for the experiment. The second derivative NIR spectra of plasma can be seen in Supplementary Figure S2. Spiking DENV1 in Whole Blood, Plasma, and Serum Experiment A serial dilution of DENV1 EM-093 in Vero cell culture media at 5 dilutions (1:2, 1:10, 1:100, 1:1000 and 1:10000) was prepared by artificially adding the virus into whole blood, serum, and plasma as dilutants and these dilutions resulted in DENV1 concentrations of 1.58 10 4, 3.16 10 3, 3.16 10 2, 3.16 10 and 3.16 infectious units/L, respectively. These samples were treated as infected. Similarly, a serial dilution using Vero cell culture media at the same concentration as the virus was prepared for whole blood, plasma and serum and these samples were used as the negative control. Two L of the mixture was aliquoted onto a microscope glass and allowed to dry for 1 hr. A total of 5 technical replicates were prepared for each biological replicate per dilution point. A total of 10, 26 and 15 biological samples were analysed for whole blood, plasma, and serum, respectively, with 8-10 biological samples being processed per day. Additional experiments to demonstrate the capacity of NIR to differentiate Vero media from Barmah Forest Virus and Ross River Virus that were conducted using blood from different donors is provided as Supplementary Materials. Spectra Collection All samples were scanned with a LabSpec 4i near-infrared spectrometer (ASD, Malvern Panalytical, Malvern, United Kingdom). The spectrometer includes a HL-2000 halogen light source and 3 mm diameter bifurcated external fiber-optic probe, containing 6 illumination fibres with 600 microns that surround a single 600-micron collection fibre (ASD Malvern Panalytical). It has an operating wavelength of 350-2500 nm in 1 nm increments. Spectra collection was carried out using RS3 software (Malvern ASD Panalytical). Optimization and baseline calibration were performed at the start of each experiment and again after every 30 min by scanning an empty space on the glass slide placed on a white reference panel. Spectra from dried spots were scanned at approximately 3 mm distance from the light source by pointing the probe down to the centre of the samples for approximately 3-5 s ( Figure 1). Data Analysis Reflectance spectra were converted to absorbance using the formular Log 1 R. All spectral signatures were converted from txt to csv in ViewSpecPro software (Analytical Spectral Devices Inc, Boulder, CO, USA, 1990-2017). Model screening and data analysis were conducted in JMP Pro 16 software (SAS Institute Inc., Cary, NC, USA, 1989-2021). Data were first split into plasma, serum, and whole blood, which were subsequently analysed separately. Data for each individual dilutant set were further split into training (60%), validation (20%) and test (20%) sets. To determine the appropriate machine learning algorithm for each of the data, all data underwent model screening where the following model types were screened for preliminary accuracy: decision tree, bootstrap forest, boosted tree, nave Bayes, neural boosted and support vector machines. Spectral signatures from 350 to 2500 nm were used as model predictors, whereas infection status, i.e., DENV-infected samples and negative control samples, were used as the response factor. Infected samples were assigned a value of "1" and uninfected samples were assigned a value of "2". The model with the highest predictive accuracy was chosen for developing the final prediction model. In this case, the boosted artificial neural network (ANN) model was selected for all data sets. Data Analysis Reflectance spectra were converted to absorbance using the formular Log. All spectral signatures were converted from txt to csv in ViewSpecPro software (Analytical Spectral Devices Inc, Boulder, CO, USA, 1990-2017). Model screening and data analysis were Analysis with Artificial Neural Network Boosted ANN models were created to analyse plasma, serum, and whole blood. We used 600 spectra of whole blood, 1100 spectra of plasma and 760 spectra of serum samples. For each model developed, 60% of the spectra were used to train the model, 20% were used as a validation set and 20% were used as a test set (Table 1). To prevent selfprediction of samples (data leakage), i.e., same biological samples being used in training, validation, or tests sets, the spectra were first grouped into biological replicates. All technical replicates that arose from the same biological replicate were all used in either training, validation, or test sets. Factor reduction was utilised to identify the best wave regions of the spectra for highest predictive accuracy. This was achieved by narrowing down the entire wavelength, until a better accuracy was obtained. The final model included regions from 350 to 1099 nm for plasma samples and the entire wavelength (350-2500 nm) for whole blood and serum samples. The ANN model consisted of one layer with three TanH activation nodes iteratively boosted at a learning rate of 0.1. The number of tours for model refinement was set to five. Models were then built to predict DENV1 infection status, and the limit of detection based on the NIR spectra of whole blood, plasma and serum spiked with DENV1 or Vero media. A second order Savitzky-Golay derivative with 10 smoothing points was applied to all raw spectra to further identify peaks associated with DENV1 infection. Additional analysis to demonstrate the ability of NIR to differentiate Vero media, BFV and RRV is provided in Supplementary Table S1. Table 1. The flow of information from data collection to analysis, including the number of samples used for training, validation, and testing models. N refers to the number of biological replicates and n refers to the total number of NIR spectra (technical replicates of the biological replicates) collected/analysed for each data set. The training, validation and test sets were split according to biological replicates. At the model screening step, machine learning techniques, such as decision tree, bootstrap forest, boosted tree, nave Bayes, neural boosted, support vector machines were applied. T represents training set, V represents validation set and t represents test set. Test of Proportions To determine the accuracy, sensitivity and specificity thresholds for biological replicates based on predictions of technical replicates, we used a three-sample test of proportions. A significant difference was observed between the biological samples where the predictions were in complete agreement (N = 35) (G1), biological samples where 4 of 5 technical replicates (N = 12) were in agreement (G2) and biological samples where 3 of 5 samples (N = 5) were in agreement (G3) (chi-squared = 19.55, degrees of freedom = 2, p-value = 5.68 10 −5 ). Post hoc two sample tests of proportions were then undertaken to identify the source of the difference. When comparing those in complete agreement against those where 4 of 5 replicates agreed using a 2 populations proportions test, the value of z was -0.811 and the value of p was 0.41794. This result was not significant at p < 0.05. A similar difference was observed between samples where 4 of 5 technical replicates agreed, where the statistics for this were as follows: z = 2.3324 and p = 0.0198, which were also not significant at p < 0.05. However, when considering those in complete agreement against those where 3 of 5 replicates agreed, the following statistics were reported: z = 3.8389 and p = 0.00012. The result is significant at p < 0.05. This indicates a significant difference in accuracy between those two groups; however, one should treat the result cautiously as there was only 5 samples in G3. Based on these statistics, a biological sample was considered accurately predicted if at least 4 out of 5 of the technical replicates were predicted as the actual infection status of that sample. Raw Spectra of DENV1 and Vero Media in Serum, Whole Blood, and Plasma The average raw spectra of DENV1 and Vero media spiked into whole blood, plasma and serum are shown in Figure 2. Absorption bands were higher for the whole blood samples compared to the plasma and serum samples. This is because whole blood naturally has more water molecules and other elements compared to plasma and serum. For example, the absorption values of DENV1 in whole blood ranged from 0.35 to 1.5 ( Figure 2B) compared to the absorption values of DENV1 in plasma, which ranged from 0.015 to 0.1 (Figure 2A) and the absorption values of DENV1 in serum, which ranged from 0.035 to 0.15 ( Figure 2C). The average absorption values of DENV1 in serum and whole blood were generally lower than the absorption values of Vero media in serum and whole blood, whereas DENV1 in plasma, on average, absorbed more light compared to Vero media in plasma (Figure 2). When the spectra were split based on concentration, absorbance generally decreased as the virus concentration decreased for the plasma and serum samples, regardless of the donor (Figure 3). For whole blood samples, absorbance for the most concentrated sample (1:2) was higher than all other concentrations. NIR raw spectra of all donors analysed are provided in Supplementary Figures S3-S5. Sensitivity, Specificity, and Accuracy of NIR for Detecting DENV1 in Plasma, Serum, and Whole Blood Based on the test of proportion statistics obtained, to calculate sensitivity, specificity, and accuracy, the biological samples were considered to be correctly predicted if at least 4/5 of the technical replicates were correctly predicted. The results are shown for samples that were used to test the accuracy of the training set only. Table 1 shows how samples were divided between training, validation and tests sets for plasma, whole blood, and serum. Regardless of the concentration of the virus, plasma samples were predicted with a sensitivity of 88.5% (n = 135) and specificity of 92.3% (n = 135) for those samples that were used to test the model (Table 2). However, the sensitivity and specificity for detecting DENV1 dropped to 80% (n = 50) and 32% (n = 50) for whole blood, respectively, and 33.3% (n = 75) and 46.7% (N = 75) for serum, respectively ( Table 2). Viruses 2022, 14, x FOR PEER REVIEW 9 of 1 into a single spectrum for all samples. In total, 1100, 600 and 760 NIR spectra for plasma, whol blood, and serum samples, respectively, were collected. Sensitivity, Specificity, and Accuracy of NIR for Detecting DENV1 in Plasma, Serum, and Whole Blood Based on the test of proportion statistics obtained, to calculate sensitivity, specificity and accuracy, the biological samples were considered to be correctly predicted if at leas 4/5 of the technical replicates were correctly predicted. The results are shown for sample that were used to test the accuracy of the training set only. Table 1 shows how sample Effect of DENV1 Concentration on Predicted Accuracy, Sensitivity and Specificity The effect of virus concentration on the prediction accuracy, sensitivity, and specificity of NIR is shown in Table 3. The sensitivity of predicting DENV1 in plasma samples ranged from 80 to 100%. Higher concentrations, such as 1:2, 1:10 and 1:100, were predicted with a slightly lower sensitivity compared to lower concentrations. We, however, do not think that virus concentration had any effect on the sensitivity of NIR for DENV1 detection in plasma samples because sensitivity for each concentration point shown was based on 5-6 donors. For example, the sensitivity of 80% (n = 6) at 1:2 dilution was based on a correct prediction of 5/6 biological replicates. The only biological replicate that was incorrectly predicted was due to incorrect prediction of <3 technical replicates, which could be attributed to poor spectral signature collected, as opposed to the sensitivity of the technique. Based on this result, we hypothesize that NIR detected the presence of viral particles/compounds present in cell lines/ blood samples, as opposed to the virus itself, hence the observed 100% sensitivity at 1:10,000 dilution. The predictive specificity, which includes all samples scanned at various dilution points that were negative for DENV1, was 92.3% (Table 3). The model developed to predict DENV1 in whole blood was more sensitive than it was specific, and the sensitivity was 100% at 1:2 dilution, which dropped to 60-70% at 1:10 to 1:1000 and rose to 100% at 1:10000 dilution (Table 3). For serum samples, specificity across the five dilution points was 46.7%, while sensitivity dropped from 66.7% at 1:2 dilution to 33.3% at 1:10000 (Table 3). Second Derivative Plots To investigate prominent peaks of DENV1 in plasma, we plotted the 2nd derivative spectra (Figure 4). We have presented results for a wider wavelength than what was analysed to determine repeated overtones. The second derivative graph shows distinct peaks for DENV1 in plasma relative to Vero media in plasma at 700, 706, 812, 819, 1130, 1137, 1142 and 2127 nm ( Figure 3A-D). For whole blood and serum samples, no significant peaks could be found that were attributed to DENV1 infection. Table 4 shows the prominent absorption peaks identified from DENV1-infected samples. Peaks at 812 and 819 represent the 3rd overtone of C-H. Peaks at 1130, 1137 and 1142 nm represent the 2nd overtone of C-H vibration and are indicative of the presence of methyl/methylene/oil. A peak at 2127 nm represents C-H vibration and is indicative of the presence of saturated fatty acids. Second Derivative Plots To investigate prominent peaks of DENV1 in plasma, we plotted t spectra (Figure 4). We have presented results for a wider wavelength th lysed to determine repeated overtones. The second derivative graph sho for DENV1 in plasma relative to Vero media in plasma at 700, 706, 812 1142 and 2127 nm ( Figure 3A-D). For whole blood and serum sampl peaks could be found that were attributed to DENV1 infection. Table 4 nent absorption peaks identified from DENV1-infected samples. Peaks a resent the 3rd overtone of C-H. Peaks at 1130, 1137 and 1142 nm r overtone of C-H vibration and are indicative of the presence of methyl/m A peak at 2127 nm represents C-H vibration and is indicative of the pres fatty acids. Discussion The objective of this study was to determine the capability of NIR coupled with machine learning algorithms to detect DENV1 in human blood samples. To achieve this, we spiked DENV1 into plasma, whole blood, and serum at different concentrations, collected NIR spectra and developed independent models to predict infection in plasma, serum, and whole blood. Our overall results show that spectral signatures collected from samples infected with DENV1 could be differentiated from samples that were used as negative control, i.e., Vero media in plasma, whole blood, or serum, albeit at varying sensitivities for each of the blood samples used. DENV1 could be differentiated from Vero media in human plasma with a sensitivity and specificity of 89% and 92%, respectively, while predictive models using whole blood and serum were 60% and 33% sensitive and 20% and 46% specific, respectively. Model screening showed ANN boosted models were the most accurate for predicting DENV1 infection in all three blood samples used. This may indicate that the spectra of DENV1-infected and uninfected samples are not linearly distributed, but may have a pattern involved in their distribution and deep learning prediction models, such as ANN, are best suited for analysing such data. The ANN models developed to differentiate DENV1-infected samples in the 350-1099 region indicate that sensitivity of NIR was highest when plasma was used, compared to whole blood and serum samples. When DENV1 was artificially introduced into plasma, regardless of the concentration of the sample, NIR detected DENV1 in plasma with 90% accuracy. NIR's sensitivity was not affected by the concentration of the virus, with sensitivity and specificity remaining quite stable across various concentrations. It has been previously reported that people in different age groups, DENV viraemia peaks during the febrile period. During this period, viraemia has been observed to reach 10 2 -10 3 infectious units/L. In this study, the limit of detection was 312.5 folds below the peak of DENV viraemia reported in patients, which is a significantly lower concentration. This is promising as it means that NIR could potentially detect the presence of the virus before the onset of the symptoms, prompting an early intervention. A high predictive accuracy was also reported when Raman spectroscopy was used for the detection of DENV infection in plasma, where a predictive sensitivity of 97.95% and specificity of 95.40% were observed in a pool of 17 healthy and 17 DENV-infected patients in comparison to non-structural protein 1, IgM and IgG ELISA. When whole blood was used, regardless of the viral load, NIR was 80% sensitive and 32% specific. This low sensitivity achieved relative to what was observed for plasma is consistent with previous studies that used NIR to determine cholesterol levels in whole blood and blood plasma from cow's blood. The NIR prediction accuracy was lower when whole blood was used compared to blood plasma for predicting total cholesterol, with a cor-Viruses 2022, 14, 2248 13 of 17 relation coefficient of 0.92-0.99 for blood plasma and only 0.68 for whole blood. The study suggests that the large particle size of red blood cells was responsible for low absorption and increased scattering of NIR radiation, possibly resulting in lower accuracies. Similarly, in our study, lower accuracies were displayed for whole blood compared to blood plasma, which could be due to the same reason. Alternatively, low sensitivity could be related to the presence of various compounds in whole blood, which acted as confounding factors for accurate prediction of DENV1. Whole blood contains red blood cells, white blood cells and platelets, all of which absorb light at various frequencies. Combined, these substances produce peaks that could have an overall effect on NIR absorbance signals for the artificially introduced virus. The neural boosted models created for serum samples indicated a low sensitivity and specificity of 33.3% and 46.7%, respectively. This result was comparable to a study that applied Raman spectroscopy to detect DENV in blood serum, with predictive accuracies of 66% and 47% relative to IgG and IgM ELISA tests, respectively. The serum samples used in our study were pooled from multiple donors and this probably introduced confounding factors, resulting in the much lower predictive sensitivity than plasma. The spectral signatures collected from DENV1 in human plasma showed characteristic peaks at 812 and 819 nm within the 3rd overtone region, 1130, 1137, 1142 nm in the 2nd overtone region and 2127 nm within the 1st overtone region. In reference to the literature, the peaks around 1130, 1137 and 1142 nm indicate the presence of methyl/ methylene/ oil, and peaks around 2127 nm could be related to the presence of saturated fatty acids that arose from DENV1 viral particles. The peaks at 812 and 819 nm are related to 0-H within the third overtone region. Methyl groups may be present due to the synthesis of NS5 methyltransferase, which is encoded by one of the seven non-structural proteins of DENV. NS5 methyltransferase is responsible for the type 1 cap formation of DENV, which is essential for mRNA capping that preserves genetic integrity during viral replication. The saturated fatty acids could be from the viral envelope of the DENV particle, or a lipid bilayer derived from the C6/36 cell membrane during cell passaging. The authors are uncertain whether these peaks are specific to DENV or if they are shared between viruses. If these peaks are non-specific to DENV, we believe NIR could still be a useful screening tool for differentiating between arbovirus-infected and uninfected patients. It could be coupled with molecular techniques to allow further screening to identify virus types, which would reduce the current costs associated with blanket testing using molecular techniques. Future experiments should assess the capacity of NIR to discriminate multiple arboviruses, DENV serotypes and other arboviruses and assess whether unique infrared peaks exist for the various arboviruses and if those peaks are diagnostic. We have presented data (Supplementary Materials) that indicate that the technique can potentially differentiate multiple arboviruses. ELISA is the current gold standard diagnostic tool for DENV infection. However, due to cost, skills and time involved in processing samples, it is not suitable for large-scale sample analysis. For example, NS1 protein ELISA kits can take approximately 2-3 h of assay time and costs are approximately USD 2 per processed sample. In comparison, NIR simply involves shining a beam of light onto a sample with an average spectrum acquisition time of 3 sec/sample. Following outlay costs for an instrument, it does not require sample processing procedures or reagents and can be used non-invasively. The recent diagnosis of DENV infection in plasma by Raman spectroscopy produced comparable accuracies to our results, but with relatively longer spectral acquisition time (30 sec per sample). Conclusions Our findings indicate the potential of the future application of the NIR technique for DENV detection in human samples. Subsequent research should assess the capacity of the technique to detect and quantify DENV in naturally infected human subjects and assess an appropriate sample preparation protocol for field adoption. It is envisaged that once robust diagnostic models have been developed and validated in multiple epidemiological settings, NIR could be used to analyse thousands of samples in a day without any skilled expertise, reagents, or sample processing procedures and could be applied to reduce outbreaks through timely detection of infections. Existing portable spectrometers can significantly reduce the outlay costs of the spectrometer used in this study, but these portable spectrometers need to be tested in the field first. Supplementary Materials: The following supporting information can be downloaded at: https: //www.mdpi.com/article/10.3390/v14102248/s1, Figure S1: The average NIR spectra of a BFV, RRV and Media in human plasma sample; Figure S2: The second derivative NIR spectra of a human plasma sample; Figure S3: NIR spectra of all DENV1 infected plasma samples split by donor; Figure S4: NIR spectra of all DENV1 infected serum samples split by donor; Figure S5: NIR spectra of all DENV1 infected whole blood samples split by donor; Table S1: summary of the accuracy of differentiating Vero media cells, BFV and RRV in plasma. Reference is cited in the supplementary materials. Informed Consent Statement: Informed consent was obtained from all subjects involved in the study. Data Availability Statement: All data supporting these findings are available through the corresponding author institutions. Conflicts of Interest: The authors declare no conflict of interest. |
Analysis of clusterization and networking processes in developing intermodal transportation Abstract Analysis of the processes of clusterization and networking draws attention to the necessity of integration of railway transport into the intermodal or multimodal transport chain. One of the most widespread methods of combined transport is interoperability of railway and road transport. The objective is to create an uninterrupted transport chain in combining several modes of transport. The aim of this is to save energy resources, to form an effective, competitive, attractive to the client and safe and environmentally friendly transport system. Under the modern conditions of globalization and integration into the European Union, the processes of networking are becoming increasingly important. In the context of intensive changes in the life of the society and business development processes, networking processes inevitably make influence on intermodal transportation. Therefore, the processes of clusterization, networking and integration have a significant impact on international economic area, including the development of a single social, scientific, technological information and transport system. |
Shedding of CD9 antigen into cerebrospinal fluid by acute lymphoblastic leukemia cells. The accurate identification of small numbers of leukemic cells in the cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) presents a diagnostic problem in the treatment of acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL). We demonstrated that soluble CD9 antigen was shed into CSF obtained from children with ALL, using enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay (ELISA), which used the activity of CD9 antigen to bind the Ricinus communis agglutinin (RCA1) and a monoclonal antibody, SJ-9A4, simultaneously. Using RCA1/SJ-9A4 ELISA, CD9 antigen was detectable in CSF but not in plasma from 12 cases of CD9+ ALL in central nervous system (CNS) relapse. However, CD9 antigen was not released into CSF from 11 cases of CD9- ALL with CNS involvement, 136 cases of CD9+ ALL in complete remission (CR), 29 cases of CD9- ALL in CR, or 21 cases of aseptic meningitis. Interestingly, the levels of CD9 antigen were elevated in CSF from 7 of 10 CD9+ ALL patients without cytologically proven CNS involvement at diagnosis, with subsequent return to undetectable levels after initial induction chemotherapy was begun. In addition, sequential analysis of CSF from a 5-year-old boy with CD9+ ALL in CNS relapse showed that levels of CD9 antigen correlated well with the number of leukemic cells in CSF. Serial quantitative analysis of CD9 antigen in CSF could be useful to detect the proliferation of residual leukemic cells before the clinical manifestation. |
package com.canberkc.tools.xml.validation;
import java.io.File;
import java.io.IOException;
import java.util.List;
import javax.xml.XMLConstants;
import javax.xml.transform.stream.StreamSource;
import javax.xml.validation.Schema;
import javax.xml.validation.SchemaFactory;
import javax.xml.validation.Validator;
import org.xml.sax.SAXException;
import org.xml.sax.SAXParseException;
public class XmlValidator {
public static String XSD_PATH = "";
public static String XML_PATH = "";
public static void main(String[] args) throws IOException, SAXException {
XmlValidator xmlValidator = new XmlValidator();
List<SAXParseException> exceptions = xmlValidator.validate(XML_PATH, XSD_PATH);
if (!exceptions.isEmpty()) {
for (SAXParseException exception : exceptions) {
System.out.printf("Column: %d Line: %d Reason: %s%n", exception.getColumnNumber(), exception.getLineNumber(),
exception.getMessage());
}
}
}
public List<SAXParseException> validate(String xmlFilePath, String xsdFilePath) throws IOException, SAXException {
SchemaFactory schemaFactory = SchemaFactory.newInstance(XMLConstants.W3C_XML_SCHEMA_NS_URI);
try {
Schema schema = schemaFactory.newSchema(new File(xsdFilePath));
Validator validator = schema.newValidator();
CustomErrorHandler customErrorHandler = new CustomErrorHandler();
validator.setErrorHandler(customErrorHandler);
validator.validate(new StreamSource(new File(xmlFilePath)));
return customErrorHandler.getExceptions();
} catch (SAXException | IOException e) {
e.printStackTrace();
throw e;
}
}
}
|
def parse_and_add_word(self, str_word, is_multiword=False):
splitted = str_word.strip().split('\t')
word = None
if is_multiword:
id_first = int(splitted[0].split('-')[0])
id_last = int(splitted[0].split('-')[1])
form = splitted[1]
misc = splitted[2]
word = Multiword(id_first, id_last, form, misc)
else:
word = Word(*splitted)
self.add_word(word) |
package ${package};
import java.io.File;
import java.io.IOException;
import org.knime.core.data.DataCell;
import org.knime.core.data.DataColumnSpec;
import org.knime.core.data.DataColumnSpecCreator;
import org.knime.core.data.DataRow;
import org.knime.core.data.DataTableSpec;
import org.knime.core.data.RowKey;
import org.knime.core.data.def.DefaultRow;
import org.knime.core.data.def.DoubleCell;
import org.knime.core.data.def.IntCell;
import org.knime.core.data.def.StringCell;
import org.knime.core.node.BufferedDataContainer;
import org.knime.core.node.BufferedDataTable;
import org.knime.core.node.CanceledExecutionException;
import org.knime.core.node.defaultnodesettings.SettingsModelIntegerBounded;
import org.knime.core.node.ExecutionContext;
import org.knime.core.node.ExecutionMonitor;
import org.knime.core.node.InvalidSettingsException;
import org.knime.core.node.NodeLogger;
import org.knime.core.node.NodeModel;
import org.knime.core.node.NodeSettingsRO;
import org.knime.core.node.NodeSettingsWO;
/**
* This is the model implementation of ${node}.
*
*/
public class ${node}Model extends NodeModel {
// the logger instance
private static final NodeLogger logger = NodeLogger
.getLogger(${node}Model.class);
/** the settings key which is used to retrieve and
store the settings (from the dialog or from a settings file)
(package visibility to be usable from the dialog). */
static final String CFGKEY_COUNT = "Count";
/** initial default count value. */
static final int DEFAULT_COUNT = 100;
// example value: the models count variable filled from the dialog
// and used in the models execution method. The default components of the
// dialog work with "SettingsModels".
private final SettingsModelIntegerBounded m_count =
new SettingsModelIntegerBounded(${node}Model.CFGKEY_COUNT,
${node}Model.DEFAULT_COUNT,
Integer.MIN_VALUE, Integer.MAX_VALUE);
/**
* Constructor for the node model.
*/
protected ${node}Model() {
// TODO one incoming port and one outgoing port is assumed
super(1, 1);
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected BufferedDataTable[] execute(final BufferedDataTable[] inData,
final ExecutionContext exec) throws Exception {
// TODO do something here
logger.info("Node Model Stub... this is not yet implemented !");
// the data table spec of the single output table,
// the table will have three columns:
DataColumnSpec[] allColSpecs = new DataColumnSpec[3];
allColSpecs[0] =
new DataColumnSpecCreator("Column 0", StringCell.TYPE).createSpec();
allColSpecs[1] =
new DataColumnSpecCreator("Column 1", DoubleCell.TYPE).createSpec();
allColSpecs[2] =
new DataColumnSpecCreator("Column 2", IntCell.TYPE).createSpec();
DataTableSpec outputSpec = new DataTableSpec(allColSpecs);
// the execution context will provide us with storage capacity, in this
// case a data container to which we will add rows sequentially
// Note, this container can also handle arbitrary big data tables, it
// will buffer to disc if necessary.
BufferedDataContainer container = exec.createDataContainer(outputSpec);
// let's add m_count rows to it
for (int i = 0; i < m_count.getIntValue(); i++) {
RowKey key = new RowKey("Row " + i);
// the cells of the current row, the types of the cells must match
// the column spec (see above)
DataCell[] cells = new DataCell[3];
cells[0] = new StringCell("String_" + i);
cells[1] = new DoubleCell(0.5 * i);
cells[2] = new IntCell(i);
DataRow row = new DefaultRow(key, cells);
container.addRowToTable(row);
// check if the execution monitor was canceled
exec.checkCanceled();
exec.setProgress(i / (double)m_count.getIntValue(),
"Adding row " + i);
}
// once we are done, we close the container and return its table
container.close();
BufferedDataTable out = container.getTable();
return new BufferedDataTable[]{out};
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected void reset() {
// TODO Code executed on reset.
// Models build during execute are cleared here.
// Also data handled in load/saveInternals will be erased here.
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected DataTableSpec[] configure(final DataTableSpec[] inSpecs)
throws InvalidSettingsException {
// TODO: check if user settings are available, fit to the incoming
// table structure, and the incoming types are feasible for the node
// to execute. If the node can execute in its current state return
// the spec of its output data table(s) (if you can, otherwise an array
// with null elements), or throw an exception with a useful user message
return new DataTableSpec[]{null};
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected void saveSettingsTo(final NodeSettingsWO settings) {
// TODO save user settings to the config object.
m_count.saveSettingsTo(settings);
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected void loadValidatedSettingsFrom(final NodeSettingsRO settings)
throws InvalidSettingsException {
// TODO load (valid) settings from the config object.
// It can be safely assumed that the settings are valided by the
// method below.
m_count.loadSettingsFrom(settings);
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected void validateSettings(final NodeSettingsRO settings)
throws InvalidSettingsException {
// TODO check if the settings could be applied to our model
// e.g. if the count is in a certain range (which is ensured by the
// SettingsModel).
// Do not actually set any values of any member variables.
m_count.validateSettings(settings);
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected void loadInternals(final File internDir,
final ExecutionMonitor exec) throws IOException,
CanceledExecutionException {
// TODO load internal data.
// Everything handed to output ports is loaded automatically (data
// returned by the execute method, models loaded in loadModelContent,
// and user settings set through loadSettingsFrom - is all taken care
// of). Load here only the other internals that need to be restored
// (e.g. data used by the views).
}
/**
* {@inheritDoc}
*/
@Override
protected void saveInternals(final File internDir,
final ExecutionMonitor exec) throws IOException,
CanceledExecutionException {
// TODO save internal models.
// Everything written to output ports is saved automatically (data
// returned by the execute method, models saved in the saveModelContent,
// and user settings saved through saveSettingsTo - is all taken care
// of). Save here only the other internals that need to be preserved
// (e.g. data used by the views).
}
}
|
Note: Electrochemical cell for in operando X-ray diffraction measurements on a conventional X-ray diffractometer. Electrochemical in operando X-ray diffraction (XRD) is a powerful method to analyze structural changes of energy storage materials while inserting/de-inserting charge carriers, such as Li- or Na-ions, into/from a host structure. The design of an XRD in operando cell is presented, which enables the use of thin (6 m) aluminum foil as X-ray window as a non-toxic alternative to conventional beryllium windows. Owing to the reduced thickness, diffraction patterns and their changes during cycling can be observed with excellent quality, which was demonstrated for two cathode materials for sodium-ion batteries in a half-cell set-up, P2-Na(0.7)MnO2 and Na(2.55)V6O16 ⋅ 0.6H2O. |
A phase transition caught in mid-course: independent and concomitant analyses of the monoclinic and triclinic structures of (nBu4N)3H2O Repeated cycling through a reversible orderdisorder phase transition in a crystal of a cobalt orotate complex produces an arrested transformation, leaving the sample with both triclinic and monoclinic domains. Independent determinations of the two structures were carried out from single-phase samples and the partial transition permitted simultaneous structure determination of the two phases at a temperature at which one of them is not expected to exist independently. Introduction We have prepared the n Bu 4 N + salt of one isomer of the simple transition metal complex and have observed that at a temperature near 180 K it undergoes a phase transformation for which the two components can be analyzed structurally at the same time using single-crystal diffraction techniques. Orotate(2) is the dianion of orotic acid (H 2 Or or 2,6dioxo-1,2,3,6-tetrahydropyrimidine-4-carboxylic acid), known as vitamin B 13 (although it is understood not to be a vitamin), ISSN 2053ISSN -2296 a biologically important molecule that is the precursor for the pyrimidine bases in living systems and which is important in other biological processes (). Orotate has been used in the preparation of a stable salt of tenofovir disoproxil, an antiviral agent used against the HIV and hepatitis B viruses (). Our own interest in orotic acid and its salts arises from the five varied functional groups that gird its periphery, which make it a versatile ligand in transition-metal chemistry. It is capable of coordinating to a transition-metal atom in different ways and at the same time of participating in significant directional noncovalent interactions with its environment, including crystalline environments. We have referred to such chemical entities as 'polyfunctional ligands,' a name that reflects the presence of numerous functional groups rather than any putative mechanical or physical functionality. Orotate complexes have been studied structurally in detail; at the time of writing, some 131 crystal structures of orotate complexes of transition metals have been recorded in the Cambridge Structural Database (CSD; ), along with 15 complexes of lanthanoid elements and a single complex with a heavy rare earth element, i.e. uranium (). In these complexes, orotate is usually found to be doubly deprotonated, at the carboxylate group and at atom N1. By far the commonest coordination mode observed for orotate is chelation through the N1 atom and one of the carboxylate O atoms. In a separate line of development, we note that molecular solids containing the n-butylammonium fragment have been observed to undergo order-disorder phase transitions involving changes in the conformation of as little as one butyl arm of the cation (). Interest in the preparation of molecular materials that undergo phase transitions arises from the possibility of switching chemical and physical properties, such as spectroscopic characteristics (), magnetic and electric properties, and others, in a controllable manner (Fujita & Awaga, 1999;;;;Paglione & Greene, 2010;MacFarlane & Forsyth, 2001;;;Rodrguez-Velamaz ). This phenomenon has been observed in materials of potential technological importance (Pielichowska & Pielichowski, 2014;Szaciowski, 2008). Particularly interesting are single-crystal-to-singlecrystal transformations (SCSC), which provide valuable information for the understanding of the switching of the properties of those molecular materials, since both the mother and daughter phases can be structurally characterized. One way to obtain solids that can undergo phase transitions while maintaining their crystallinity is by using molecular fragments for which there exist potential structural changes requiring low energy and demanding little difference between the sizes and shapes of the initial and final species. Straightchain paraffins have long been recognized as satisfying these criteria (M ller, 1932). Indeed, rotator and/or plastic phase transitions have been observed for crystals with n-alkylammonium salts with small anions, such as halides (), mainly through characterization by thermal analysis and nuclear magnetic resonance (NMR) techniques. Regarding the n-butyl group in particular, n Bu 4 NI, a simple salt, presents both a phase transition and ionic transport ((Asayama et al.,, 2006; however, very few di-n-butyl (57 structures in the CSD, only two phase transitions; ;) and tri-n-butylammonium compounds (49 structures in the CSD, two phase transitions) have been involved in phase transitions which have been characterized by singlecrystal X-ray diffraction (Asghar et al.,, 2016. In contrast to di-and tri-n-butylammonium, tetra-n-butylammonium is a more widely used cation, especially as a counter-ion for coordination compounds; there are more than 80 times as many structures with n Bu 4 N + as with n Bu 3 NH + or n Bu 2 NH 2 + (4742/49/57 entries in the CSD, respectively). Yet, and in spite of the high percentage of crystal structures with this group in disorder, the number of phase transitions explicitly characterized by X-ray diffraction has also been very low for systems involving tetra-n-butylammonium (;;;). The term 'partial phase transition' has been used for what are now a large number of systems concluded to have undergone phase transitions in part of the volume of a substance and not in the rest. Most, by far, of the systems observed to behave in such a way have been inorganic solids. Recent examples in which partial phase transitions have been imputed include that of a hydrogen-storage material and a partial transition observed in a lithiumcontaining spinel, i.e. LiMnTiO 4, a solid with potential relevance as a cathode material for rechargeable lithium-ion research papers batteries (). As for molecular solids, a partial phase transition was proposed for the and polymorphs of dl-norleucine, based on molecular dynamics simulations at temperatures for which the phases are stable and metastable (van den Ende & Cuppen, 2014). We are not aware of the full structural characterization of an arrested phase transition in a molecular crystal. In what follows, we report the preparations of ( n Bu 4 N) 2 1.8H 2 O,, and ( n Bu 4 N)3H 2 O,, the hydrated tetrabutylammonium salts of simple Co II and Co III coordination complexes. For, we report its phase transition from a room-temperature dynamically disordered monoclinic phase to a low-temperature ordered but twinned triclinic phase. Upon cycling, this phase transition was observed to halt with part of the sample in each phase. This double-phase sample was characterized structurally using single-crystal X-ray diffraction techniques based on in-house measurements, and the single composite diffraction pattern yielded two high-quality structure analyses. In addition to permitting accurate characterization of both phases, the analysis of the two-phase sample using nominally singlecrystal techniques permitted the characterization of the monoclinic phase at a temperature at which in principle it would not normally exist. General All reagents were used as received without further purification. The IR spectra of compounds and were recorded in the 4000-300 cm 1 range on a PerkinElmer Spectrum 100 FT-IR spectrophotometer equipped with an ATR accessory. Elemental analyses were performed on a PerkinElmer 240 Series II microanalyzer. Thermal analysis measurements Thermal analysis measurements were performed using a differential scanning calorimeter (DSC) Q1000 from TA Instruments equipped with a liquid-nitrogen cooling system, allowing temperatures to reach 100 K. A powder sample of approximately 10 mg mass was sealed in a nonhermetic flat aluminium capsule. Thermograms, both on heating and cooling, were performed at a scan rate of 10 K min 1. Temperature and enthalpy calibrations were made with an indium standard sample by using its melting data. Comparison with expected values shows very small changes in the onset temperature (<0.1 K) and in the enthalpy content (<1.5%). In order to determine the heat-capacity anomalies and their enthalpy contents, a smooth baseline, obtained by fitting the thermograms outside of the transition temperature range with a linear or low-degree polynomial function, was subtracted from the thermogram. In the present case, anomalies are small and diffuse, and this procedure, using a more or less arbitrary baseline, increases significantly the uncertainty in the enthalpy determination; thus, the reported values must be considered as rough estimates. 2.4. Single-crystal X-ray structure determination of compounds and Single-crystal diffraction data were measured using Oxford Diffraction Xcalibur S3 four-circle diffractometers equipped with graphite-monochomated Mo K radiation ( = 0.71073 ). Oxford Instruments CryoJetLT and CryoJetHT nitrogen-flow temperature controllers were used to maintain the samples of compound at set temperatures. The samples were mounted on Mitegen supports and covered with Fomblin oil. Multiscan absorption correction procedures were applied to the data and used to derive error models (Blessing, 1995(Blessing,, 1997. The crystallographic parameters and refinement residuals for all of the structure analyses are given in Tables 1 and 2. 2.4.1. ( n Bu 4 N) 2 xH 2 O,. The crystal structure determination of at room temperature produced a structural model with 1.8 units of unligated water per formula unit. Structure solution and refinement were routine except for two disorder assemblies whose atomic sites were located in Fourier maps and refined with partial occupancies for the respective disorder groups. The first disorder assembly involved a -methylene group (C23) of one of the n Bu 4 N + cations. Two sites were located for the C atom and their occupancies were initially refined with a constraint to a total population of 1.0. The occupancies refined to values close to 5 6 and 1 6, and so were fixed at these values for the final refinement. H atoms for the disordered congeners were placed at calculated positions and refined as riding atoms, with displacement-parameter constraints. The partially occupied H-atom sites included those of the adjacent CH 2 and CH 3 groups at atoms C22 and C24. For the latter, the H-atom coordinates were calculated so as to have staggered conformations with respect to atom C23. A second disorder assembly was found for the interstitial O4W water site. The populations of the two sites were initially refined with a constraint to a sum of 1.0. The resulting population parameter converged to a value of 0.798 for O4WA, and so the site-occupancy factors were fixed at 0.8 (O4WA) and 0.2 (O4WB) for the final refinement. Since the remaining interstitial water site, at O3W, makes an impossibly short contact with an inversion-related congener of O4WB, O3W was treated as a member of the disorder assembly and also had a fixed population of 0.8 in the final refinement. The H atoms attached to O3W, O4WA and O4WB were not located. All of the H atoms of the n Bu 4 N + cations were placed at calculated positions based on geometry for CH 2 and on local slant Fourier calculations for the CH 3 groups not affected by disorder. U iso (H) values for methylene and methyl H atoms were constrained to 1.2 and 1.5 times the U eq values of their respective carrier C atoms. H atoms of the orotate groups and ligated water molecules were located in difference Fourier maps and refined with independent coordinates and with isotropic displacement parameters constrained to 1.2U eq of the carrier atom for the orotate H atoms and with H-atom U iso values freely refined for the aqua ligands. 2.4.2. ( n Bu 4 N)3H 2 O,. We report five structure analyses for compound. The structure of the crystals as prepared is monoclinic, space group P2/n, analyzed at T = 277 K. For this analysis, i.e. (2a), all non-water H atoms were placed at calculated positions and refined as riders, with U iso values set at 1.2 (nonmethyl) or 1.5 (methyl) times the U eq values of the respective parent atoms. Water H atoms were located in a difference map and refined freely. The atoms of both of the independent n Bu groups of the n Bu 4 N + cation showed increasing displacements on going from theto the -C atoms, but the terminal -CH 2 CH 3 group at atoms C22 and C23 showed quite pronounced transverse displacement accompanied by the shortened 'apparent' bond length of 1.182, normally attributed to libration. When the same crystal is cooled to T = 100 K, it undergoes a transition to a triclinic phase (space group P1), with twinning. The initial monoclinic phase, (2a) (Table 2), was analyzed using routine single-crystal X-ray procedures. The triclinic phase at T = 100 K, (2b), was treated as a 'nonmerohedral twin' and the structure was refined using a combined data set (SHELXL2014 'HKLF 5') with the residuals given in Table 2. The twin ratios were calculated as 0.533 and 0.467 by the data integration program, and the transformation, in terms of cell-axis vectors, from the first to the second component, is: The unit cell and setting used for triclinic structure (2b) were chosen to correspond as closely as possible to the unit cell and setting of the initial monoclinic phase (2a). As a result, the triclinic cell is not the conventional reduced cell that would have been used if the structure of (2b) had been done independently of its monoclinic relative. The standard unit cell is a = 9.3791, b = 12.9054, c = 16.1290, = 102.898, = 91.276, = 91.472 and V = 1901.6 3. The transformation from the unit cell used to the standard reduced cell and setting, in terms of unit-cell basis vectors, is the following, in which the primed axes are those of the conventional cell: Table 1 Crystal data and refinement quality indicators for the structure analysis of ( n Bu 4 N) 2 [cis-Co(Or) et al., 1994), SHELXL2014 and DIAMOND (Brandenburg & Putz, 2004). Following the thermal analysis, which suggested that the monoclinic-to-triclinic transition occurs in the 160-220 K temperature range, we explored the diffraction pattern of a second crystal of in the same range, beginning at the higher temperature. Firstly, the unit cell was determined at T = 220 K, confirming the exclusive presence of the monoclinic phase. The temperature was then cycled to T = 170 K and back in increments of 10 or 20 K, with an axial photo of being taken at each temperature. Photos were made, in this order, for T = 220, 200, 190, 180, 170, 190, 200 and 220 K, and were taken after a 15 min interval at each temperature, except for the final T = 220 K, for which photos were taken after 20, 70 and 120 min. The photos showed progressive spot splitting as the temperature was lowered, and eventually showed the loss of mirror symmetry perpendicular to this axis. When the temperature was raised, the splitting progressively disappeared, with the axial photo returning to nearly its original appearance when the temperature had once again reached T = 220 K. At this point, a full structure analysis was conducted at T = 220 K, i.e. (2c) ( Table 2); this confirmed that the structure at this point was identical to the original monoclinic structure. The H atoms of the two independent unligated water sites were located in a difference Fourier map, and their positional and isotropic displacement parameters were refined freely. The temperature was then lowered to T = 170 K, and a redundant sphere of data was gathered. The diffraction pattern revealed the presence of both the monoclinic and the triclinic phases. Because of the high redundancy, it was possible to isolate nearly complete data sets with reflections unique to each of the phases. Refinements were conducted routinely for both . For monoclinic (2d), the n Bu group C20-C21-C22-C23 was found to have its terminal ethyl fragment disordered two ways, with the majority component (75%) having an anti conformation, as in the higher-temperature monoclinic structures, and with the minor component in a syn conformation, as in one of the n Bu groups of the triclinic structure. Similarity restraints were applied to the C-C distances and to the 1,3-C C distances. Similarity restraints were also used for the anisotropic displacement parameters of the C and C atoms of the disordered congeners. As was described above for triclinic structure (2b), the unit cell that was used for (2e) was chosen to correspond as closely as possible to that of the monoclinic structure. The transformation from the triclinic cell Table 2 Crystal data and refinement quality indicators for the five determinations of the structure of ( n Bu 4 N)3H 2 O,. Notes: (a) H atoms bonded to O or N atoms. Whether or not these H atoms are located and refined is an indicator for the reliability of the structure analysis. (b) Resolution is estimated as the minimum Bragg spacing to which data are at least 95% complete, based on the Laue group. (c) Structure (2b) was refined using data from two domains in the same refinement. Traditional data merging was not performed. Computer programs: CrysAlis CCD (Oxford Diffraction, 2006), CrysAlis RED (Oxford Diffraction, 2006Diffraction,, 2009, CrysAlis PRO, SIR92 (), SHELXL2014 and DIAMOND (Brandenburg & Putz, 2004). Results and discussion CoCO 3 H 2 O reacts with orotic acid monohydrate, C 5 H 4 N 2 O 4 -H 2 O, and n Bu 4 NOH in water at room temperature, giving different products depending on the reaction conditions. When the reaction was carried out in water with Co:H 2 Or: n-Bu 4 NOH proportions of 1:2:2, the anionic Co II derivative ( n Bu 4 N) 2 2H 2 O,, was formed (Equation 1). leads to the formation of the Co III salt ( n Bu 4 N)3H 2 O,, whose properties and phase transition are the main subject of this report. Compound is chemically isostructural with its nickel analogue (), which was prepared using the metal chloride (NiCl 2 ) as starting material instead of the carbonate. The use of the metal carbonate instead of the chloride reduces the amount of n Bu 4 NOH needed and eliminates the formation of residual products ( n Bu 4 NCl). Crystal structure of compound Crystals of compound are isomorphous with the analogous Ni complex, whose structure has been discussed in detail (). The distorted octahedral environment of atom Co1 (Fig. 1) has the two aqua ligands cis to each other, and the two chelating Or 2 ligands are disposed such that their coordinated N atoms are mutually trans and their ligated carboxylate O atoms cis. As was discussed for the corresponding Ni complex, crystallization from an environment poor in hydrogen-bonding possibilities leads to isolation of the cis isomer, in which two intramolecular hydrogen bonds add stability to the structure. In the absence of other hydrogen-bonding partners, also enters into self-complementary aggregation patterns, namely an R 2 2 interaction with the N13-H13 group as donor and atom O14 at (x + 1, y + 1, z + 1) as acceptor, and an R 2 2 cycle involving the N3-H3 group and atom O17 -that is, two different orotate ligands -and the molecule at (x, y + 1, z) (see Fig. S3 in the supporting information). The hydrogen-bonded chain thus formed propagates along. Crystal structures of In the monoclinic room-temperature form of compound -we refer to this analysis of the as-prepared crystal as structure (2a) -the n Bu 4 N + cation and the six-coordinate Co III complex both reside on crystallographic twofold axes, as does one of the two independent unligated water molecules. The anionic six-coordinate complex (Fig. 2) presents an arrangement of orotate ligands similar to that found for Co II complex, with the coordinated N1 atoms of the two ligands trans to each other and the coordinated carboxylate O7 atoms mutually cis. The chelating bipy ligand occupies the remaining two coordination sites. Except for the differences in the. In all three drawings, non-H atoms are represented by their 50% probability displacement ellipsoids. In part (b), the minor-disordered congener at the C23 site has been omitted, along with the corresponding H atoms. Co1-N and Co1-O bond lengths that accompany the change of oxidation state of the Co centre, the geometries of complex salts and are similar. A narrow channel parallel to and at a height of y = 1 2 is occupied by ordered water molecules that act as hydrogenbond donors and acceptors in interactions with the orotate ligands. There is one relatively weak hydrogen bond between the two free water molecules, but hydrogen bonding involving only water molecules along the water-occupied channel is not an important feature of this structure. This can be contrasted to the water wire that has been found to be a proton conductor in a molecular crystal involving a Mn II citrate cubane polymer (). In (2a), units of the Co III complex occupy a slab perpendicular to the b axis (Fig. 3), and hydrogen bonding, albeit weak, joins these anions (blue in the figure) and the two independent water molecules (green) into a sheet. This sheet and the hydrophobic cations (red) are segregated into alternating layers along the b axis, with the cations in a layer centred at y = 0.0. The n Bu 4 N + cation in (2a), which is the protagonist of the phase transition that befalls this crystal, merits a mention. At room temperature, two of the terminal ethyl fragments of the n Bu groups have their displacement ellipsoids elongated in a fashion that suggests concerted motion of this group, most likely libration in what is a typical example of dynamic disorder. This can be seen in Fig. 4, where the displacement ellipsoids for atoms C22 and C23, and their symmetry relatives, are notably more prolate, with transverse elongation, than those of the other C atoms of the n Bu chains. (When a single atomic position is modelled for sites such as these, they are not flagged as disordered entities in the CSD.) When a crystal of compound is cooled to 100 K, it undergoes a reversible transition to a triclinic structure, i.e. (2b), that is a minor modification of the monoclinic roomtemperature structure, with the only significant difference at the molecular level being a separation of the prolate symmetry relatives of atoms C22 and C23 into fragments not related by the twofold axis. As is generally expected for a conservative monoclinic-to-triclinic transformation, the crystal becomes a twin. The structure was solved ab initio and refined using the usual protocol for so-called 'nonmerohedral twins', with the diffraction data integrated using two orientation matrices for the two twin components, and with overlapped reflections separated as well as the software is able to do. The asymmetric unit in (2b) comprises one full cation, one full anion and three water molecules. The reference asymmetric unit for (2b) was chosen to correspond as closely as possible to that of monoclinic (2a), with 'A' appended to the names of the newly independent atoms -those that are related to the reference asymmetric unit by a twofold axis in the monoclinic structure. The complex anion in (2b) is essentially identical to that in (2a) (Fig. 5). It can be seen that the displacement ellipsoids for both ions behave well in (2b), except for effects attributable to the twinning. The n Bu 4 N + Figure 3 The packing in monoclinic ( The n Bu 4 N + cation in monoclinic (2a), with non-H atoms represented by 50% probability displacement ellipsoids. The prolate ellipsoids for atoms C22 and C23 can be seen. cation is conformationally different at one extreme of one of the n Bu chains. Specifically, the newly independent terminus of the chain at C22A/C23A has been reoriented to give a syn conformation about the C21A-C22A bond, while the original chain at C22/C23 is still anti in the triclinic structure, as it was in the monoclinic mother phase. Fig. 6 shows superposed drawings of the cations from (2a) (red) and (2b) (blue). Three of the n Bu groups are almost identical in the two structures. The groups that had large prolate displacement ellipsoids (C22 and C23 at the right of the figure) are those that have segregated conformationally as indicated above. The general features of the packing in (2b) (Fig. S4 in the supporting information) are essentially unchanged from the original structure (2a). The major features of the extended structure are a segregation of the hydrophobic cation and more hydrophilic anion layers, along with a line of water molecules weakly hydrogen bonded to the anions, running along. The quality indicators for the refinement of (2b) are not ideal (Table 2). We use this analysis to demonstrate that the transformation has taken place under the conditions described and to establish its nature. A better refinement was achieved for triclinic (2e) (see below). In addition, more accurate geometrical parameters for the anion and cation are available from the refinements of monoclinic (2a), (2c) and (2d). Regarding the n Bu 4 N + cation, its geometries have already been established in some 4742 previously published structure analyses recorded in the CSD. That the original structure is monoclinic with dynamic disorder and not triclinic without disorder and with only a slight deviation from monoclinic symmetry is clear from the fact that a transition to triclinic, accompanied by twinning, occurs on lowering the temperature. That transition, directly observable in the diffraction itself, is reversed when the temperature is raised again, and a single-domain monoclinic structure can be analyzed from the same sample after cycling (a) The anion and (b) the n Bu 4 N + cation in (2b), with non-H atoms represented by 50% probability displacement ellipsoids in both parts. Figure 6 Superposition of the n Bu 4 N + cations from monoclinic (2a) (red) and triclinic (2b) (blue). The two sets of atoms labelled C22 and C23 are related by symmetry in (2a), while C22A and C23A are at the new positions for one of these fragments in the triclinic structure. the temperature. Clearer evidence for dynamic disorder is presented below. Characterization of the phase transition by thermal analysis The heat-capacity anomalies determined by differential scanning calorimetry (DSC) are shown in Fig. 7 for both heating and cooling thermograms. These small broad anomalies present their maximum temperatures at around 192 and 177 K, respectively, highlighting the first-order character of the transition, with a hysteresis of 13 K at a 10 K min 1 scan rate. These temperatures and the hysteresis are in agreement with the results of the X-ray diffraction measurements, which also indicated that the transition occurred roughly within the temperature range 170-200 K. The calculated enthalpy (entropy) contents, after subtracting the baseline, are roughly 0.28 (1.56 J mol 1 K 1 ) and 0.21 kJ mol 1 (1.23 J mol 1 K 1 ) for the heating and cooling anomalies, respectively. These values are small, also in agreement with the diffraction results, which reveal that the structural changes consist of minor conformational adjustments at the periphery of the n Bu 4 N + cation. Arrested phase transition As just described, DSC established more accurately the temperature range in which the transition of from monoclinic to triclinic takes place. The heat-capacity anomalies, with maxima at 177 (cooling) and 192 K (heating), point to a firstorder transition with hysteresis. On exploring this reversible phase transition further, using single-crystal diffraction with a fresh crystal, a more complex behaviour was revealed. First, a unit-cell determination at T = 220 K confirmed that the crystal was monoclinic with the known cell of (2a). Then axial photos of were used to follow the transformation accompanied by twinning as the temperature was lowered to 170 K in increments of 10 or 20 K (see Experimental for details). The temperature was then raised in similar increments and axial photos revealed that the spot-splitting that Table 3 Comparison of geometric parameters (, ) for the variable n Bu group in the structures of ( n Bu 4 N)3H 2 O,. had accompanied the transformation to triclinic (2b) was reversed as the temperature was raised and the original monoclinic structure was restored. A complete structure determination, (2c), was carried out after the crystal had been warmed again to T = 220 K, and the monoclinic structure was confirmed ( Fig. 8) to be isostructural with (2a). Following this full cycle of the transition, there were minor indications that the crystal was not of quite the high quality that it had originally possessed -there were a number of inconsistent symmetry equivalents, and the unit-cell angles and, when not constrained to their monoclinic values of 90, refined to values of 90.168 and 90.117, respectively. Nevertheless, the structure was developed and refined to the residuals given for (2c) in Table 2. As an indicator of the quality of the data, we note that the H atoms of the unbound water molecules were located in a difference map and refined freely, including their isotropic displacement parameters. Except for effects that can be attributed to the difference in temperature, the structure of (2c) is identical to that of the near-room-temperature structure (2a). After this one full cycle of the transition from monoclinic to triclinic and back, lowering the temperature again, directly, to T = 170 K, produced an arrested form of the transition, in which about one-half of the sample once again changed to the triclinic form and the rest remained in the monoclinic structure. (The temperature was lowered from 220 to 170 K over a period of several minutes and then held at T = 170 K for 4 h before the diffraction measurements commenced.) To our knowledge, a result of this entirely unexpected nature has not previously been characterized in detail for a molecular crystal. A case of several structures being characterized from the same sample has been reported recently (). The difference in the present case is that the crystal remained stable with its two components at 170 K and, furthermore, despite a good deal of reflection overlap it was possible to isolate complete redundant individual data sets for both components using in-house data. Both the monoclinic (2d) ( (a) The anion and (b) the n Bu 4 N + cation from monoclinic phase (2d) of the multicrystal of ( n Bu 4 N)3H 2 O. Non-H atoms are represented by 50% probability displacement ellipsoids in both parts. For the n Bu 4 N + cation in part (b), the major-disorder component (C22A-C23A) is shown for one n Bu group and the minor component (C22B ii -C23B ii ) is shown for its symmetry relative. Figure 10 (a) The anion and (b) the n Bu 4 N + cation from triclinic phase (2e) of the multicrystal of ( n Bu 4 N)-3H 2 O. Non-H atoms are represented by 50% probability displacement ellipsoids in both parts. refinements in which the positional parameters of the H atoms attached to free water were refined freely. (The isotropic displacement parameters of these H atoms were constrained to 1.2 times U eq of their bonding partners.) The diffraction pattern for this final set of measurements revealed just two principal phases, one monoclinic and one triclinic. It appears that the twinning of the triclinic phase that would be expected for a clean transition was not a major feature in this case. The nature of the phase change can be understood readily with reference to Table 3, which collects the relevant geometrical parameters for the n Bu group that changes, namely C20-C21-C22-C23. In the monoclinic structure, it is related by a twofold axis to another such chain and it is highly likely that both congeners are affected by dynamic disorder (vide infra). In the triclinic structure, the second congener, C20A-C21A-C22A-C23A, is not related by symmetry to the first and it is the second congener that undergoes the change. The torsion angle C20A-C21A-C22A-C23A, which in the monoclinic structure describes an anti conformation (Table 3), is modified to a syn arrangement in the triclinic structure. The base unit, i.e. C20-C21-C22-C23, retains its anti descriptor in the triclinic structure, where no disorder is evident. Monoclinic phase (2d) of the multicrystal that results from the arrested transition gives a structure analysis at T = 170 K with a major component that is nearly identical -but not rigorously so -to those obtained for the monoclinic phases at T = 277 (2a) and 220 K (2c). A telling difference involves the unique n Bu group that suffers disorder at higher temperature (C20-C23, Fig. 4). Disorder is reflected in the principal meansquare displacement amplitudes (MSDA) for atoms C22 and C23 (Table 3). As is also clear from Table 3, the foreshortening of the 'apparent' C-C distance that accompanies librational disorder is pronounced at T = 277 K for (2a), significant but less exaggerated at 220 K for (2c) and observable but small at 177 K for (2d). Such variation with temperature discriminates between dynamic and static disorder, and is a strong indicator in this case for dynamic disorder. Being able to make this determination is one of several reasons for not restraining the terminal C-C bond length in the higher-temperature determination. Possibly more intriguing is that the monoclinic structure (2d) at T = 170 K, derived from the sample after the arrested phase transition, has a minor-disordered component with one n Bu group in a syn conformation, as in the triclinic structure that results from the phase transition. We refrain from drawing speculative conclusions, but it may be that the first step in the phase transition is a conformational change in the affected n Bu group, and that this is then followed by the global change of the sample to the triclinic phase. The arrested transition, which may well be fortuitous, also permits a more exact comparison between the two phases than is often the case with transitions, because it was possible to characterize the two phases at the same temperature. In actual fact, all five structural results can be superimposed quite wellanion, cation and interstitial water -except for terminal atoms C22A and C23A, which upon ordering mark the difference in the triclinic phase. Concluding comments We refer to the partially executed change from monoclinic to triclinic in this case as an arrested phase transition. Given that the transition proceeds to completion in both directions in the first cycle, we conclude that in the second cycle, defects are responsible for blocking the advance of the transformation following normal nucleation. We are not attempting to coin a term for this phenomenon. We note that the term 'arrested phase transition' was used in the Abstract of an article by Xu & Veblen describing a transition in ha yne that does not go to completion. The term 'arrested solid-solid phase transition' was also used in the Title, but not the text, of an article describing displacements of phase-transition temperatures or pressures in CdS nanocrystals, as compared to the bulk material, as a result of surface characteristics (Haase & Alivisatos, 1992). The phase transition from a dynamically disordered monoclinic room-temperature structure to an ordered but twinned triclinic structure at low temperature underlines some counterintuitive features of this type of system. The roomtemperature structure, and the structure to temperatures as low as 220 K, have excellent quality indicators and betray the dynamic disorder only in the displacement parameters of the affected atoms and in the apparently foreshortened bond distance at the end of one of the unique n Bu groups. For compound, unlike what is found for most molecular crystalline systems, but not unprecedented or completely unexpected, lowering the temperature gives a decidedly worse diffraction pattern because of the twinning that accompanies the conservative symmetry-lowering transition. It is known that this occurs for some crystals, and this is a phenomenon that is worth keeping in mind when an otherwise apparently good crystal that is abruptly subjected to low temperatures displays a surprisingly poor diffraction pattern. Molecular graphics: DIAMOND for ; DIAMOND for (2a), (2b), (2c), (2d), (2e). Software used to prepare material for publication: SHELXL2014 for (2a), (2b), (2c), (2d), (2e). Bis(tetra-n-butylammonium) diaquabis(2,4-dioxo-1,2,3,4-tetrahydropyrimidin-1-ide-6-carboxylato-N 1 )cobalt(II) 1.8-hydrate Crystal data (C 16 Special details Geometry. All esds (except the esd in the dihedral angle between two l.s. planes) are estimated using the full covariance matrix. The cell esds are taken into account individually in the estimation of esds in distances, angles and torsion angles; correlations between esds in cell parameters are only used when they are defined by crystal symmetry. An approximate (isotropic) treatment of cell esds is used for estimating esds involving l.s. planes. Fractional atomic coordinates and isotropic or equivalent isotropic displacement parameters ( 2 ) x y z U iso */U eq Fractional atomic coordinates and isotropic or equivalent isotropic displacement parameters ( 2 ) x y z U iso */U eq |
CAIR'17: First International Workshop on Conversational Approaches to Information Retrieval at SIGIR 2017 The First International Workshop on Conversational Approaches to Information Retrieval (CAIR'17) was held on August 11th, 2017 in Tokyo, in association with SIGIR 2017, the 40th International ACM SIGIR Conference on Research and Development in Information Retrieval. CAIR'17 brought together academic and industry researchers to present and discuss new research on conversational approaches to search, particularly over speech. As speech interfaces to devices are becoming more pervasive, and with the advent of Personal Digital Assistants (PDAs), investigating and designing more effective and efficient means of interacting with information sources and search engines is growing in importance. Spoken interfaces to search engines opens opportunities through the possibility of greater interactivity but also requires rethinking, e.g., how results are presented. CAIR'17 addressed a range of such issues via invited keynote presentations, research papers presented orally and via posters, and a panel discussion involving researchers from interactive IR, IR evaluation, and spoken dialogue systems. |
<gh_stars>10-100
//
// $Id$
package com.threerings.msoy.mchooser.modes;
import java.awt.BorderLayout;
import java.awt.image.BufferedImage;
import java.awt.event.ActionEvent;
import java.awt.event.ActionListener;
import java.io.ByteArrayInputStream;
import java.io.IOException;
import java.net.URL;
import java.util.logging.Level;
import javax.swing.ImageIcon;
import javax.swing.JButton;
import javax.swing.JLabel;
import javax.swing.JPanel;
import javax.imageio.ImageIO;
import javax.imageio.stream.MemoryCacheImageInputStream;
import com.samskivert.swing.HGroupLayout;
import org.apache.commons.io.IOUtils;
import com.threerings.msoy.mchooser.MediaChooser;
import static com.threerings.msoy.mchooser.MediaChooser.log;
/**
* Displays a preview of an image and allows it to be communicated back to Whirled if the user is
* happy with it.
*/
public class PreviewImageMode
implements MediaChooser.Mode
{
public PreviewImageMode (URL imageSource)
throws IOException
{
String name = imageSource.getFile();
name = name.substring(name.lastIndexOf("/")+1);
init(name, IOUtils.toByteArray(imageSource.openStream()));
}
public PreviewImageMode (String name, byte[] media)
throws IOException
{
init(name, media);
}
// from interface MediaChooser.Mode
public void activate (MediaChooser chooser)
{
_chooser = chooser;
_chooser.setSidebar(_tip);
_chooser.setMain(_preview);
}
// from interface MediaChooser.Mode
public void deactivated ()
{
}
protected void init (final String name, final byte[] media)
throws IOException
{
_image = ImageIO.read(new MemoryCacheImageInputStream(new ByteArrayInputStream(media)));
if (_image == null) {
throw new IOException("Unable to decode " + name);
}
_tip = new JLabel("Preview");
// TODO: allow scrolling around, etc.
_preview = new JPanel(new BorderLayout(5, 5));
if (media != null) {
_preview.add(new JLabel(new ImageIcon(_image)), BorderLayout.CENTER);
} else {
_preview.add(new JLabel("Error loading media."), BorderLayout.CENTER);
}
JPanel uprow = new JPanel(new HGroupLayout(HGroupLayout.NONE, HGroupLayout.RIGHT));
JButton upload = new JButton("Upload");
upload.addActionListener(new ActionListener() {
public void actionPerformed (ActionEvent event) {
_chooser.pushMode(new UploadMediaMode(name, media));
}
});
uprow.add(upload);
_preview.add(uprow, BorderLayout.SOUTH);
}
protected MediaChooser _chooser;
protected BufferedImage _image;
protected JLabel _tip;
protected JPanel _preview;
}
|
import * as React from "react";
import styled from "styled-components/macro";
const Style = styled.div`
position: fixed;
top: 0;
left: 0;
z-index: 1000;
pointer-events: none;
padding: 1rem;
background-color: #f00;
opacity: 0.6;
color: white;
text-align: center;
width: 30rem;
transform: rotate(-45deg) translate(-30%, -84%);
`;
function UnderArbeid() {
return <Style>Denne løsningen er under utvikling</Style>;
}
export default UnderArbeid;
|
Remote data acquisition system based on fiber transmission Making advantage of the optical fiber's characteristics such as high real-time, high reliability, one remote data acquisition system based on the optical fiber conveying data is designed and achieved. A special convertor is applied for the transformation of the opto-electrical signal, in order to alter the IEEE1394 interface to the interface of a single-mode optical fiber. This technique makes the long range data acquisition available by real time collecting, transmission, data analysis and so on. A practical application case by adopting this remote data acquisition system successfully proves that it is a feasible method of using optical fiber transmission to solve the problem in long range signal conveying. |
<reponame>CharaD7/director-google-plugin<gh_stars>1-10
/*
* Copyright (c) 2015 Google, Inc.
*
* Licensed under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the "License");
* you may not use this file except in compliance with the License.
* You may obtain a copy of the License at
*
* http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
*
* Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing, software
* distributed under the License is distributed on an "AS IS" BASIS,
* WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY KIND, either express or implied.
* See the License for the specific language governing permissions and
* limitations under the License.
*/
package com.cloudera.director.google.sql;
import static com.cloudera.director.spi.v1.database.DatabaseServerInstanceTemplate.DatabaseServerInstanceTemplateConfigurationPropertyToken.ADMIN_PASSWORD;
import static com.cloudera.director.spi.v1.database.DatabaseServerInstanceTemplate.DatabaseServerInstanceTemplateConfigurationPropertyToken.ADMIN_USERNAME;
import static com.cloudera.director.spi.v1.database.DatabaseServerInstanceTemplate.DatabaseServerInstanceTemplateConfigurationPropertyToken.TYPE;
import com.cloudera.director.spi.v1.model.ConfigurationProperty;
import com.cloudera.director.spi.v1.model.ConfigurationPropertyToken;
import com.cloudera.director.spi.v1.model.util.SimpleConfigurationPropertyBuilder;
/**
* Google Cloud SQL instance template configuration properties.
*/
public enum GoogleCloudSQLInstanceTemplateConfigurationProperty implements ConfigurationPropertyToken {
/**
* The name of the database tier.
*/
TIER(new SimpleConfigurationPropertyBuilder()
.configKey("tier")
.name("Tier")
.defaultValue("D1")
.defaultDescription("The tier of your database. This affects performance and how much you will be charged. For more details, see the <a target='_blank' href='https://cloud.google.com/sql/pricing?hl=en_US&_ga=1.212534036.1821394181.1440788203'>Cloud SQL pricing guide</a>.")
.widget(ConfigurationProperty.Widget.OPENLIST)
.addValidValues(
"D0",
"D1",
"D2",
"D4",
"D8",
"D16",
"D32")
.required(true)
.build()),
/**
* The name of the master user for the client DB instance.
*/
MASTER_USERNAME(new SimpleConfigurationPropertyBuilder()
.configKey(ADMIN_USERNAME.unwrap().getConfigKey())
.name("Master username")
.defaultDescription("The name of the master user for the client DB instance. Username may contain up to 16 characters.")
.build()),
/**
* The password for the master database user.
*/
MASTER_USER_PASSWORD(new SimpleConfigurationPropertyBuilder()
.configKey(ADMIN_PASSWORD.unwrap().getConfigKey())
.name("Master user password")
.widget(ConfigurationProperty.Widget.PASSWORD)
.sensitive(true)
.defaultDescription("The password for the master database user. Password may contain up to 16 characters.")
.build()),
/**
* The preferred location for the database instance.
*/
PREFERRED_LOCATION(new SimpleConfigurationPropertyBuilder()
.configKey("preferredLocation")
.name("Preferred Location Zone")
.defaultDescription("You can use this setting to store your data close to Compute Engine services hosted within a particular zone. This will reduce latency and improve availability for services in the preferred location you choose. You can either store your data in a Compute Engine zone or choose no preference.")
.widget(ConfigurationProperty.Widget.OPENLIST)
.required(false)
.build()),
/**
* The name of the database engine to be used for this instance.
*/
ENGINE(new SimpleConfigurationPropertyBuilder()
.configKey(TYPE.unwrap().getConfigKey())
.name("DB Engine")
.required(true)
.defaultDescription("The name of the database engine to be used for this instance.")
.widget(ConfigurationProperty.Widget.LIST)
.addValidValues("MYSQL")
.build());
/**
* The configuration property.
*/
private final ConfigurationProperty configurationProperty;
/**
* Creates a configuration property token with the specified parameters.
*
* @param configurationProperty the configuration property
*/
GoogleCloudSQLInstanceTemplateConfigurationProperty(ConfigurationProperty configurationProperty) {
this.configurationProperty = configurationProperty;
}
@Override
public ConfigurationProperty unwrap() {
return configurationProperty;
}
}
|
import { Component, OnInit } from '@angular/core';
import { SesionService, CalculosService, PeticionesAPIService } from '../../../servicios';
import { FamiliaAvatares } from 'src/app/clases';
import Swal from 'sweetalert2';
import { Location } from '@angular/common';
import { Router } from '@angular/router';
import * as URL from '../../../URLs/urls';
@Component({
selector: 'app-guardar-familia',
templateUrl: './guardar-familia.component.html',
styleUrls: ['./guardar-familia.component.scss']
})
export class GuardarFamiliaComponent implements OnInit {
familiaElegida: FamiliaAvatares;
imagenSilueta;
c1: any[];
c2: any[];
c3: any[];
c4: any[];
constructor( private peticionesAPI: PeticionesAPIService,
private sesion: SesionService, private location: Location,
private router: Router
) { }
ngOnInit() {
this.familiaElegida = this.sesion.DameFamilia ();
console.log ('ya tengo la familia');
console.log (this.familiaElegida);
this.PreparaImagenes();
console.log ('Voy a guardar');
// Ni el identificador de la familia ni el del profesor van en el fichero JSON
delete this.familiaElegida.id;
delete this.familiaElegida.profesorId;
const theJSON = JSON.stringify(this.familiaElegida);
console.log (theJSON);
const uri = "data:application/json;charset=UTF-8," + encodeURIComponent(theJSON);
const a = document.getElementById('generarJSON');
a.setAttribute ('href', uri);
a.setAttribute ('download', this.familiaElegida.nombreFamilia);
a.innerHTML = "Botón derecho y selecciona 'deja el enlace como...'";
}
PreparaImagenes() {
// Vamos a por las imagenes de cada uno de los complementos
this.imagenSilueta = URL.ImagenesAvatares + this.familiaElegida.silueta;
this.c1 = [];
this.familiaElegida.complemento1.forEach (imagenComplemento => {
this.c1.push (URL.ImagenesAvatares + imagenComplemento);
});
this.c2 = [];
this.familiaElegida.complemento2.forEach (imagenComplemento => {
this.c2.push (URL.ImagenesAvatares + imagenComplemento);
});
this.c3 = [];
this.familiaElegida.complemento3.forEach (imagenComplemento => {
this.c3.push (URL.ImagenesAvatares + imagenComplemento);
});
this.c4 = [];
this.familiaElegida.complemento4.forEach (imagenComplemento => {
this.c4.push (URL.ImagenesAvatares + imagenComplemento);
});
}
goBack() {
this.location.back();
}
}
|
Karleen Thompson
Early life and education
In 1969, Thompson was born in California. While attending high school in Snyder, Texas, Thompson played on the volleyball and basketball teams. For her post-secondary education, Thompson continued playing basketball with Contra Costa College in 1991 before moving to the USC Trojans women's basketball team in 1994.
Career
After completing her social sciences degree at the University of Southern California in 1986, Thompson joined Gatorade as a sports marketer. The following year, Thompson started her Women's National Basketball Association career when she became a manager for the Los Angeles Sparks in 1997. With the Sparks, Thompson moved to assistant coach in 2002 before she was named one of the team's interim head coaches in 2004 after the resignation of head coach Michael Cooper. Throughout the 2004 Los Angeles Sparks season, Thompson had eleven wins and three losses as co-head coach.
Upon leaving the Sparks, Thompson was an assistant coach of the Houston Comets between 2005 to 2007. While she was an assistant coach for a Moscow basketball team in 2007, Thompson was named the Comets general manager and head coach. With 30 wins and 38 losses as the Comets' head coach from 2007 to 2008, Thompson left the WNBA to work in college basketball as an assistant coach for the Clemson Tigers women's basketball team from 2010 to 2013. She resumed her WNBA career in 2013 when she became an associate head coach for the Atlanta Dream and held the position until 2017. In 2018, she continued to work as an associate head coach when she was hired by the Virginia Cavaliers women's basketball team.
Personal life
In February 2009, Thompson sued the WNBA in a New York district court lawsuit. In the case, Thompson said she was misled to stay with the WNBA when the organization took over the Comets in March 2008. Additionally, Thompson stated she had lost future job positions when the Comets disbanded in December 2008. The case was dismissed in October 2009 due to a lack of diversity jurisdiction. |
[[Updated with analyst comment 2:25 pm Eastern]] Dendreon’s immune-stimulating therapy for prostate cancer, called Provenge, was able to improve median survival time by 4.1 months, and lowered the risk of death by 22.5 percent, according to long-awaited clinical trial results presented today. Side effects were consistent with previous trials, involving fever and chills that lasted for a couple days after injections.
The findings came from a study of 512 men, called Impact, and the announcement was made today at the American Urological Association’s annual meeting in Chicago. Dendreon (NASDAQ: DNDN) management is planning a conference call and webcast for 5:30 pm Eastern time//2:30 pm Pacific to discuss the findings in detail with the investment community.
CEO Mitchell Gold advised investors a couple weeks ago that the data was “unambiguous” and consistent with previous studies. Today’s key statistical figure, the so-called p-value, supported this comment with a reading of 0.032. That meets the FDA’s threshold for confidence that the finding wasn’t a statistical fluke. The results are also consistent with a previous trial of 127 men, called 9901, which showed that Provenge was able to boost survival by a median time of 4.5 months. Dendreon tried to win approval from the FDA to market the drug based on that earlier data, but the agency said it needed more proof from this ongoing study first.
“These results confirm the clinical value of Provenge to prolong survival in patients with advanced prostate cancer. Moreover, it validates the longstanding but elusive aspiration to harness a patient’s own immune system to fight cancer,” said Philip Kantoff, head of the prostate cancer program and chief of the division of solid tumor oncology at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and Harvard Medical School and a principal investigator of the IMPACT study, in a Dendreon statement.
“Today’s results confirm the potential for Provenge in prostate cancer and validate the potential of our pipeline of active cellular immunotherapy product candidates that may help patients who are diagnosed with other cancers,” said Mitchell Gold, Dendreon’s CEO, in a statement.
The data from the Impact study showed that men who were randomly assigned to get Provenge lived a median time of 25.8 months, compared with 21.7 months for those who got a placebo treatment. After three years of follow-up, almost one-third of Provenge patients (31.7 percent) were still alive, compared with almost one-fourth of placebo patients (23 percent).
As a reminder, Dendreon has worked for years to develop its active immunotherapy, or cancer vaccine, technology. It doesn’t work like a traditional chemotherapy, or even a targeted antibody drug that’s supposed to seek out cancer cells and spare healthy ones. Instead, Provenge is designed to trigger the body’s natural immune defenses to recognize cancer cells as foreign invaders, like a virus, and kill them.
Dendreon’s approach requires blood to be drawn from a patient, and some white blood cells vital to the immune system, called dendritic cells, to be separated in a lab. The cells are shipped to the company and incubated with a genetically engineered protein found on prostate cancer cells, called PAP. This process is supposed to “teach” the immune system to recognize cells with this marker as foreign and fight them, and is sort of like waving a red flag in front of a bull. These newly revved-up white blood cells are shipped back in cold storage from the Dendreon factory to the clinic, and re-infused into the patient, giving them new ability to fight off the cancer.
Dendreon, founded in 1992, has spent more than $560 million in investors’ money to build up this amount of evidence to support Provenge as a new treatment for prostate cancer. About 30,000 men die of the disease each year in the U.S. Dendreon has said it plans to incorporate the new findings into an amended FDA application, which it hopes to turn in during the fourth quarter of this year, in hopes it can start selling Provenge as its first marketed product in 2010.
Shares of Dendreon surged 14 percent earlier in the day in anticipation of the news, then crashed by 45 percent until trading was halted at 1:27 pm Eastern time, about a half-hour before the announcement. Dendreon’s last trade was at $11.81 before the announcement.
We need better outcomes measures and metrics. 4.1 survival increase months over a 5 or 10 year disease? and at what cost?
p-values of 0.05 and below are better… 0.032 is still in the gray-zone of statistical significance that placebo is sufficiently different from Provenge.
The 0.032 value with a *lower* survival rate increase than the previous study (median 4.1 months to 4.5 months) makes this result-set stay on the fence. |
package ch.ethz.scu.obit.common.settings;
import java.io.File;
import java.io.FileOutputStream;
import java.io.IOException;
import java.io.OutputStream;
import java.io.StringReader;
import java.nio.charset.StandardCharsets;
import java.nio.file.Files;
import java.nio.file.Paths;
import java.util.ArrayList;
import java.util.Map;
import javax.xml.parsers.DocumentBuilder;
import javax.xml.parsers.DocumentBuilderFactory;
import javax.xml.parsers.ParserConfigurationException;
import javax.xml.transform.OutputKeys;
import javax.xml.transform.Transformer;
import javax.xml.transform.TransformerException;
import javax.xml.transform.TransformerFactory;
import javax.xml.transform.dom.DOMSource;
import javax.xml.transform.stream.StreamResult;
import org.w3c.dom.DOMException;
import org.w3c.dom.Document;
import org.w3c.dom.Element;
import org.w3c.dom.NamedNodeMap;
import org.w3c.dom.Node;
import org.w3c.dom.NodeList;
import org.xml.sax.InputSource;
import org.xml.sax.SAXException;
import ch.ethz.scu.obit.common.utils.QueryOS;
import ch.ethz.scu.obit.common.version.VersionInfo;
/**
* Commodity class to manage the AnnotationTool application properties
*
* @author <NAME>
*
* This class is only visible within its package.
*
*/
public class AppUpdaterSettingsManager {
protected AppUpdaterSettings appUpdaterSettings = null;
protected String errorMessage = "";
private boolean isFileRead = false;
private boolean isFileCurrent = false;
private boolean isFileValid = false;
private boolean fileExists = false;
private int fileVersion = -1;
// Public interface
/**
* Constructor
*/
public AppUpdaterSettingsManager() {
// Try to load, otherwise initialize
if (!load()) {
appUpdaterSettings = new AppUpdaterSettings();
}
}
/**
* Return true if the settings file is valid
* @return true if the settings file is valid
*/
public boolean isFileValid() {
return isFileValid;
}
/**
* Return true if the settings file was found and read
* @return true if the settings file was found and read, false otherwise
*/
public boolean isFileRead() {
return isFileRead;
}
/**
* Return true if the settings file version is current
* @return true if the settings file version is current, false otherwise
*/
public boolean isFileCurrent() {
return isFileCurrent;
}
/**
* Return the value of the setting for current server.
* @param name Attribute name
* @return the value of the attribute for current setting.
*/
public String getSettingValue(String name) {
return appUpdaterSettings.getSettingValue(name);
}
/**
* Set the value of a specific setting
* @param name Name of the setting
* @param value Value of the setting
*/
public void setSettingValue(String name, String value) {
appUpdaterSettings.setSettingValue(name, value);
}
/**
* Checks whether a combination setting name - value already exists
* @param name name of the setting
* @param value value of the setting
* @return true if the setting combination already exists, false otherwise
*/
public boolean doesSettingExist(String name, String value) {
return (appUpdaterSettings.getSettingValue(name).equalsIgnoreCase(value));
}
/**
* Check whether all Properties in the file are set.
* @return true if all Properties in the file are set,
* false otherwise.
*/
public boolean allSet() {
errorMessage = "";
boolean success = appUpdaterSettings.allSet();
if (!success) {
errorMessage = appUpdaterSettings.getLastErrorMessage();
}
return success;
}
/**
* Try reading settings from file. If loading fails, current settings are
* left untouched.
*
* @return true if the settings were loaded correctly, false otherwise.
*/
public boolean load() {
// Make sure the Properties file exists
fileExists = settingsFileExists();
if (!fileExists) {
isFileRead = false;
isFileCurrent = false;
isFileValid = false;
fileVersion = -1;
errorMessage = "Settings file does not exist.";
return false;
}
// Instantiate new Settings
appUpdaterSettings = new AppUpdaterSettings();
// Read and parse the XML settings file
Document doc = readXMLFile();
if (doc == null) {
// Error message already set in readXMLFile()
return false;
}
// Get the root node
Element rootNode = doc.getDocumentElement();
// Store the file version
try {
fileVersion = Integer.parseInt(rootNode.getAttribute("version"));
} catch (NumberFormatException n) {
fileVersion = -1;
}
// Now process all children
NodeList firstLevelNodes = rootNode.getChildNodes();
if (firstLevelNodes.getLength() != 1) {
errorMessage = "The settings file is not valid!";
isFileValid = false;
return false;
}
Node settings = firstLevelNodes.item(0);
// Get and add the attributes
NamedNodeMap attrs = settings.getAttributes();
for (int j = 0; j < attrs.getLength(); j++) {
// Get attribute name and value
String name = attrs.item(j).getNodeName();
String value = attrs.item(j).getNodeValue();
// Store it
appUpdaterSettings.setSettingValue(name, value);
}
isFileRead = true;
// Check that the file version is current.
if (fileVersion != VersionInfo.applicationUpdaterSettingsVersion) {
errorMessage = "The settings file is obsolete.";
isFileCurrent = false;
return false;
}
// Set file to be current
isFileCurrent = true;
// Run a validation
if (! allSet()) {
errorMessage = "File did not pass validation.";
isFileValid = false;
return false;
}
// Set the file to be valid
isFileValid = true;
// Reset error message
errorMessage = "";
// Return success
return true;
}
/**
* Try writing settings to file. If writing fails, use getLastErrorMessage()
* to get the details.
*
* This function might require write access to a restricted system
* folder. It should be used only in code run with admin privileges.
*
* @return true if the properties were saved successfully, false otherwise
*/
public boolean save() {
DocumentBuilder builder;
Document document = null;
// Build the XML document
try {
builder = DocumentBuilderFactory.newInstance()
.newDocumentBuilder();
document = builder.newDocument();
// Create root element
Element root = document.createElement("AnnotationToolUpdater_App_Settings");
root.setAttribute("version",
Integer.toString(VersionInfo.applicationUpdaterSettingsVersion));
// Get its properties
Map<String, String> currentProperties = appUpdaterSettings.getAllSettings();
// Create the experiment
Element element = document.createElement("settings");
// Append all properties as attributes
for (Map.Entry<String, String> curr : currentProperties.entrySet() ) {
// Get the property name and value
String propertyName = curr.getKey();
String propertyValue = curr.getValue();
// Store them as attributes of the server element
element.setAttribute(propertyName, propertyValue);
}
// Append the server element to the document
root.appendChild(element);
// Add the whole tree to the document (by adding the root node)
document.appendChild(root);
} catch (ParserConfigurationException e) {
e.printStackTrace();
return false;
} catch (DOMException e) {
e.printStackTrace();
return false;
}
// Make sure the directory exists
if (! createApplicationSettingsDir()) {
return false;
}
// Now try to write to disk
try {
Transformer t =
TransformerFactory.newInstance().newTransformer();
t.setOutputProperty(OutputKeys.INDENT, "no");
OutputStream outputStream = new FileOutputStream(getSettingsFileName());
t.transform(new DOMSource(document),
new StreamResult(outputStream));
outputStream.close();
} catch (IOException e) {
e.printStackTrace();
return false;
} catch (TransformerException e) {
e.printStackTrace();
return false;
}
return true;
}
// Private methods
/**
* Return last error message.
* @return last error message.
*/
public String getLastErrorMessage() {
return errorMessage;
}
/**
* Return all options for a given property.
*
* This function is guaranteed to return an {@code ArrayList<String>} with at least
* one element.
* @param name Name of the setting.
*
* @return an {@code ArrayList<String>} with all options for a given property name
*/
public ArrayList<String> possibleValuesForSetting(String name) {
return AppSettings.possibleValuesForSetting(name);
}
/**
* Return default option for a given property
* @param name name of the setting
* @return an String with the default value for a given property name
*/
public String defaultValueForSetting(String name) {
return AppSettings.defaultValueForSetting(name);
}
/**
* Check whether the properties file already exists
* @return true if the properties file already exists, false
* otherwise.
*/
static public boolean settingsFileExists() {
return getSettingsFileName().exists();
}
/**
* Create the application data directory
* @return true if the application data directory could be created
* successfully, false otherwise.
*
* This function might require write access to a restricted system
* folder. It should be used only in code run with admin privileges.
*/
private boolean createApplicationSettingsDir() {
// Get the application directory
File scuFolder = getSettingsPropertiesDir();
// Does the folder exist already?
if (scuFolder.exists()) {
return true;
}
// Try creating it
if (! scuFolder.mkdirs()) {
errorMessage = "Could not create settings directory.";
return false;
}
return true;
}
/**
* Returns the application data directory
* @return path to the folder where the application properties will
* be stored
* @throws UnsupportedOperationException if the operating system is not one
* of Mac OS X or Windows 7.
*/
static private File getSettingsPropertiesDir()
throws UnsupportedOperationException {
// Get the common application data folder
File applicationDataDir = QueryOS.getOSSpecificAppDataFolder();
// Append the sub-path common to all platform
return new File(applicationDataDir +
File.separator + "obit" + File.separator + "AnnotationTool");
}
/**
* Returns the properties file name with full path
* @return name with full path of the properties files
*/
static private File getSettingsFileName() {
return new File(getSettingsPropertiesDir() +
File.separator + "updater_settings.xml");
}
/**
* Read and parse the settings XML file and returns the Document
* @return parsed Document
*/
private Document readXMLFile() {
// Does the file exist?
if (! getSettingsFileName().exists()) {
errorMessage = "Settings file does not exist.";
return null;
}
// Read and parse the XML settings file
DocumentBuilderFactory dbFactory = DocumentBuilderFactory.newInstance();
dbFactory.setIgnoringElementContentWhitespace(true);
DocumentBuilder dBuilder;
Document doc = null;
try {
dBuilder = dbFactory.newDocumentBuilder();
// Read the file into a String. We need to do this because we MUST
// remove any line feeds and blank spaces bewteen XML tags or the
// DocumentBuilder will fail parsing the XML content.
// DocumentBuilderFactory.setIgnoringElementContentWhitespace(true)
// does not seem to help...
byte[] b = Files.readAllBytes(Paths.get(getSettingsFileName().toURI()));
String xmlString = new String(b, StandardCharsets.UTF_8);
// Make sure the String starts with <?xml
int indx = xmlString.indexOf("<?xml");
if (indx > 0) {
xmlString = xmlString.substring(indx);
}
// Remove line endings
if (QueryOS.isWindows()) {
xmlString = xmlString.replaceAll("\r\n", "");
} else {
xmlString = xmlString.replaceAll("\n", "");
}
// Also, make sure that there are no spaces between elements
xmlString = xmlString.replaceAll(">\\s*<", "><");
// Create an input source
InputSource is = new InputSource();
is.setCharacterStream(new StringReader(xmlString));
// Now parse it
doc = dBuilder.parse(is);
} catch (ParserConfigurationException e) {
errorMessage = "Error parsing the settings file.";
return null;
} catch (SAXException p) {
errorMessage = "Error parsing the settings file.";
return null;
} catch (IOException i) {
errorMessage = "Error reading the settings file.";
return null;
}
doc.getDocumentElement().normalize();
// Return the document
return doc;
}
}
|
<filename>radiant/static/modules/mdc/MDCMenu.py
"""
Brython MDCComponent: MDCMenu
=============================
"""
from browser import window
from .core import MDCTemplate
# from .MDCButton import MDCButton, MDCIconToggle
########################################################################
class __menuItem__(MDCTemplate):
""""""
MDC_optionals = {
# 'disable': 'tabindex="-1" aria-disabled="true"',
# 'stack' = '{}'
'icon': '<i class="radiant-menu-icon material-icons" aria-hidden="true" style="margin-right: 15px;">{icon}</i>',
'fa_icon': '<i class="radiant-menu-icon {fa_style} {fa_icon}" style="margin-right: 15px;"></i>',
}
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
def __new__(self, text, icon=None, stack_icon='', disable=False, **kwargs):
""""""
if icon and icon.startswith('fa'):
fa_style = icon[:icon.find('-')]
fa_icon = 'fa' + icon[icon.find('-'):]
fa_icon_ = fa_icon
del icon
self.element = self.render(locals(), kwargs)
return self.element
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
@classmethod
def __html__(cls, **context):
""""""
if not context['disable']:
cls.MDC_optionals['disable'] = 'tabindex="0"'
else:
cls.MDC_optionals['disable'] = 'tabindex="-1" aria-disabled="true"',
code = """
<li class="mdc-list-item" role="menuitem" {disable}>
{stack_icon}
{icon}
{fa_icon}
<span class="mdc-list-item__text">{text}</span>
</li>
"""
return cls.render_html(code, context)
# # ----------------------------------------------------------------------
# @classmethod
# def get(self, name):
# """"""
# if name is 'icon':
# return self.element.select('.radiant-menu-icon')[0]
########################################################################
class MDCMenu(MDCTemplate):
""""""
NAME = 'menu', 'MDCMenu'
# NAME = 'menuSurface', 'MDCMenuSurface'
CSS_classes = {
# '_16_9': 'mdc-card__media--16-9',
# 'square': 'mdc-card__media--square',
}
MDC_optionals = {
# 'outlined': 'mdc-card--outlined',
# 'full_bleed': 'mdc-card__actions--full-bleed',
# 'icon': '<i class="material-icons mdc-button__icon" aria-hidden="true">{icon}</i>',
# 'disabled': 'disabled',
}
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
def __new__(self, autoclose=True, **kwargs):
""""""
self.element = self.render(locals(), kwargs)
# if corner in ['BOTTOM_START', 'BOTTOM_LEFT', 'BOTTOM_RIGHT', 'BOTTOM_END', 'TOP_START', 'TOP_LEFT', 'TOP_RIGHT', 'TOP_END']:
# c = getattr(window.mdc.menu.MDCMenuFoundation.Corner, corner)
# print(c, self.mdc.setAnchorCorner)
# self.mdc.setAnchorCorner(window.mdc.menu.MDCMenuFoundation.Corner.BOTTOM_END)
if autoclose:
self.element.bind('click', self.toggle)
return self.element
# menu.setAnchorCorner(mdc.menu.MDCMenuFoundation.Corner.TOP_START)
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
@classmethod
def __html__(cls, **context):
""""""
code = """
<div class="mdc-menu mdc-menu-surface" tabindex="-1">
<ul class="mdc-list" role="menu" aria-hidden="true" aria-orientation="vertical">
</ul>
</div>
"""
return cls.render_html(code, context)
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
@classmethod
def get(self, name):
""""""
if name is 'content':
return self.element.select('.mdc-list')[0]
# elif name is 'action_buttons':
# return self.element.select('.mdc-card__action-buttons')[0]
# elif name is 'action_icons':
# return self.element.select('.mdc-card__action-icons')[0]
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
@classmethod
def add_item(cls, element, *args, **kwargs):
""""""
item = __menuItem__(*args, **kwargs)
cls.get('content') <= item
return item
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
@classmethod
def add_divider(cls, element):
""""""
divider = '<li class="mdc-list-divider" role="separator"></li>'
divider = cls.render_str(divider)
cls.get('content') <= divider
# ----------------------------------------------------------------------
@classmethod
def toggle(cls, element, *args, **kwargs):
""""""
# if corner in ['BOTTOM_START', 'BOTTOM_LEFT', 'BOTTOM_RIGHT', 'BOTTOM_END', 'TOP_START', 'TOP_LEFT', 'TOP_RIGHT', 'TOP_END']:
# c = getattr(window.mdc.menuSurface.Corner, corner)
# cls.mdc.setAnchorCorner(c)
cls.mdc.open = not cls.mdc.open
# self['title'].text = text
|
package frc.robot.commands;
import edu.wpi.first.wpilibj2.command.CommandBase;
import frc.robot.RobotUtils;
import frc.robot.subsystems.ShooterSystem;
public class RunShooter extends CommandBase{
ShooterSystem shooterSystem;
double voltage;
public RunShooter(ShooterSystem shooterSystem, double voltage) {
this.shooterSystem = shooterSystem;
this.voltage = voltage;
}
public void execute() {
shooterSystem.ShooterRunVoltage(voltage);
}
public void end(boolean interrupted) {
shooterSystem.ShooterStop();
RobotUtils.sendToShuffleboard("RunShooter voltage", voltage);
}
}
|
<filename>docs/source/examples/main.py
import asyncio
from aio_pika import Message, connect_robust
from aio_pika.abc import AbstractIncomingMessage
async def main() -> None:
connection = await connect_robust(
"amqp://guest:guest@127.0.0.1/?name=aio-pika%20example",
)
queue_name = "test_queue"
routing_key = "test_queue"
# Creating channel
channel = await connection.channel()
# Declaring exchange
exchange = await channel.declare_exchange("direct", auto_delete=True)
# Declaring queue
queue = await channel.declare_queue(queue_name, auto_delete=True)
# Binding queue
await queue.bind(exchange, routing_key)
await exchange.publish(
Message(
bytes("Hello", "utf-8"),
content_type="text/plain",
headers={"foo": "bar"},
),
routing_key,
)
# Receiving message
if incoming_message := await queue.get(timeout=5, fail=False):
# Confirm message
await incoming_message.ack()
else:
print("Queue empty")
await queue.unbind(exchange, routing_key)
await queue.delete()
await connection.close()
if __name__ == "__main__":
asyncio.run(main())
|
#ifndef MQTT_H
#define MQTT_H
#include "gsm.h"
#include "Adafruit_MQTT.h"
#include "Adafruit_MQTT_Client.h"
#include "Adafruit_MQTT_FONA.h"
class MQTT
{
public:
MQTT(Adafruit_FONA *fona, const char *broker_url, uint16_t port, const char *username, const char *pass);
~MQTT();
uint8_t connect();
uint8_t disconnect();
bool is_connected();
uint8_t publish(char *topic, char *msg);
private:
uint8_t set_credentials(const char *broker_url, uint16_t port, const char *user_id, const char *username, const char *password);
Adafruit_MQTT_FONA _mqtt_client;
// Broker credentials
const char *_broker_url = NULL;
const char *_username = NULL;
const char *_password = NULL;
const char *_userid = NULL;
uint16_t _port = 0;
};
#endif |
<reponame>richardcornish/addtwo
from urllib.parse import urlparse, parse_qs
from django.shortcuts import render
from django.views.generic import FormView
from .forms import ChapterForm
from .utils.choices import generate_chapter, generate_human
class ChapterFormView(FormView):
form_class = ChapterForm
template_name = 'warhammer/chapter_form.html'
def get(self, request, *args, **kwargs):
if request.GET:
form = self.get_form()
if form.is_valid():
return self.form_valid(form)
else:
return self.form_invalid(form)
return super().get(request, *args, **kwargs)
def get_form_kwargs(self):
kwargs = super().get_form_kwargs()
if self.request.method == 'GET' and self.request.GET:
kwargs['data'] = self.request.GET.copy()
return kwargs
def form_valid(self, form):
if 'submit_chapter' in self.request.GET:
form.data['chapter'] = form.generate_chapter()
if 'submit_name' in self.request.GET:
form.data['name'] = form.generate_name()
return self.render_to_response(self.get_context_data(form=form))
def chapter_form(request):
print(request.META['QUERY_STRING'])
print(request.build_absolute_uri())
pr = urlparse(request.build_absolute_uri())
query = parse_qs(pr.query)
print(query)
if request.GET:
print(request.GET)
form = ChapterForm(request.GET.copy())
if form.is_valid():
print(form.cleaned_data)
if 'chapter' in request.GET or 'chapter' in query:
chapter = request.GET.get('chapter')
next_chapter = generate_chapter()
human = query.get('human', '')
next_human = generate_human()
if 'human' in request.GET or 'human' in query:
chapter = query.get('chapter', '')
next_chapter = generate_chapter()
human = request.GET.get('human')
next_human = generate_human()
# pr = urlparse(request.build_absolute_uri())
# query = parse_qs(pr.query)
# if 'name' in query:
# data['name'] = query.get('name')[0]
# if 'chapter' in query:
# data['chapter'] = query.get('chapter')[0]
# chapter = form.generate_chapter()
# name = form.generate_name()
else:
chapter = ''
human = ''
next_chapter = generate_chapter()
next_human = generate_human()
form = ChapterForm()
return render(request, 'warhammer/chapter_form.html', {
'form': form,
'chapter': chapter,
'human': human,
'next_chapter': next_chapter,
'next_human': next_human,
})
def chapter_form(request):
print(request.get_full_path())
return render(request, 'warhammer/chapter_form.html', {})
|
package go_shopware_admin_sdk
import "net/http"
type BulkService ClientService
func (b BulkService) Sync(ctx ApiContext, payload map[string]SyncOperation) (*http.Response, error) {
req, err := b.Client.NewRequest(ctx, http.MethodPost, "/api/_action/sync", payload)
if err != nil {
return nil, err
}
return b.Client.Do(ctx.Context, req, nil)
}
type SyncOperation struct {
Entity string `json:"entity"`
Action string `json:"action"`
Payload interface{} `json:"payload"`
}
|
// Copyright (c) Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
// Licensed under the MIT License.
// Code generated by Microsoft (R) AutoRest Code Generator.
package com.azure.resourcemanager.batchai.models;
import com.azure.core.util.Context;
import com.azure.resourcemanager.batchai.fluent.models.FileServerInner;
import java.time.OffsetDateTime;
/** An immutable client-side representation of FileServer. */
public interface FileServer {
/**
* Gets the id property: Fully qualified resource Id for the resource.
*
* @return the id value.
*/
String id();
/**
* Gets the name property: The name of the resource.
*
* @return the name value.
*/
String name();
/**
* Gets the type property: The type of the resource.
*
* @return the type value.
*/
String type();
/**
* Gets the vmSize property: VM size of the File Server.
*
* @return the vmSize value.
*/
String vmSize();
/**
* Gets the sshConfiguration property: SSH configuration for accessing the File Server node.
*
* @return the sshConfiguration value.
*/
SshConfiguration sshConfiguration();
/**
* Gets the dataDisks property: Information about disks attached to File Server VM.
*
* @return the dataDisks value.
*/
DataDisks dataDisks();
/**
* Gets the subnet property: File Server virtual network subnet resource ID.
*
* @return the subnet value.
*/
ResourceId subnet();
/**
* Gets the mountSettings property: File Server mount settings.
*
* @return the mountSettings value.
*/
MountSettings mountSettings();
/**
* Gets the provisioningStateTransitionTime property: Time when the provisioning state was changed.
*
* @return the provisioningStateTransitionTime value.
*/
OffsetDateTime provisioningStateTransitionTime();
/**
* Gets the creationTime property: Time when the FileServer was created.
*
* @return the creationTime value.
*/
OffsetDateTime creationTime();
/**
* Gets the provisioningState property: Provisioning state of the File Server. Possible values: creating - The File
* Server is getting created; updating - The File Server creation has been accepted and it is getting updated;
* deleting - The user has requested that the File Server be deleted, and it is in the process of being deleted;
* failed - The File Server creation has failed with the specified error code. Details about the error code are
* specified in the message field; succeeded - The File Server creation has succeeded.
*
* @return the provisioningState value.
*/
FileServerProvisioningState provisioningState();
/**
* Gets the inner com.azure.resourcemanager.batchai.fluent.models.FileServerInner object.
*
* @return the inner object.
*/
FileServerInner innerModel();
/** The entirety of the FileServer definition. */
interface Definition
extends DefinitionStages.Blank, DefinitionStages.WithParentResource, DefinitionStages.WithCreate {
}
/** The FileServer definition stages. */
interface DefinitionStages {
/** The first stage of the FileServer definition. */
interface Blank extends WithParentResource {
}
/** The stage of the FileServer definition allowing to specify parent resource. */
interface WithParentResource {
/**
* Specifies resourceGroupName, workspaceName.
*
* @param resourceGroupName Name of the resource group to which the resource belongs.
* @param workspaceName The name of the workspace. Workspace names can only contain a combination of
* alphanumeric characters along with dash (-) and underscore (_). The name must be from 1 through 64
* characters long.
* @return the next definition stage.
*/
WithCreate withExistingWorkspace(String resourceGroupName, String workspaceName);
}
/**
* The stage of the FileServer definition which contains all the minimum required properties for the resource to
* be created, but also allows for any other optional properties to be specified.
*/
interface WithCreate
extends DefinitionStages.WithVmSize,
DefinitionStages.WithSshConfiguration,
DefinitionStages.WithDataDisks,
DefinitionStages.WithSubnet {
/**
* Executes the create request.
*
* @return the created resource.
*/
FileServer create();
/**
* Executes the create request.
*
* @param context The context to associate with this operation.
* @return the created resource.
*/
FileServer create(Context context);
}
/** The stage of the FileServer definition allowing to specify vmSize. */
interface WithVmSize {
/**
* Specifies the vmSize property: The size of the virtual machine for the File Server. For information about
* available VM sizes from the Virtual Machines Marketplace, see Sizes for Virtual Machines (Linux)..
*
* @param vmSize The size of the virtual machine for the File Server. For information about available VM
* sizes from the Virtual Machines Marketplace, see Sizes for Virtual Machines (Linux).
* @return the next definition stage.
*/
WithCreate withVmSize(String vmSize);
}
/** The stage of the FileServer definition allowing to specify sshConfiguration. */
interface WithSshConfiguration {
/**
* Specifies the sshConfiguration property: SSH configuration for the File Server node..
*
* @param sshConfiguration SSH configuration for the File Server node.
* @return the next definition stage.
*/
WithCreate withSshConfiguration(SshConfiguration sshConfiguration);
}
/** The stage of the FileServer definition allowing to specify dataDisks. */
interface WithDataDisks {
/**
* Specifies the dataDisks property: Settings for the data disks which will be created for the File Server..
*
* @param dataDisks Settings for the data disks which will be created for the File Server.
* @return the next definition stage.
*/
WithCreate withDataDisks(DataDisks dataDisks);
}
/** The stage of the FileServer definition allowing to specify subnet. */
interface WithSubnet {
/**
* Specifies the subnet property: Identifier of an existing virtual network subnet to put the File Server
* in. If not provided, a new virtual network and subnet will be created..
*
* @param subnet Identifier of an existing virtual network subnet to put the File Server in. If not
* provided, a new virtual network and subnet will be created.
* @return the next definition stage.
*/
WithCreate withSubnet(ResourceId subnet);
}
}
/**
* Refreshes the resource to sync with Azure.
*
* @return the refreshed resource.
*/
FileServer refresh();
/**
* Refreshes the resource to sync with Azure.
*
* @param context The context to associate with this operation.
* @return the refreshed resource.
*/
FileServer refresh(Context context);
}
|
#ifndef GAME_MASTER_H
#define GAME_MASTER_H
#include "Encounter.h"
#include <vector>
#include <fstream>
class GameMaster {
private:
// A series of "global" constants, quite useful throughout GameMaster
const int NUM_LEVELS;
const int WIDTH;
const string LEVEL_FILEPATH;
const string INV_FILEPATH;
const string DIVIDER;
// Triggers and markers shifted as levels and user inputs change
int currLevel;
bool doSkip;
bool wonLevel;
bool gameFinished;
string uInput;
// The core objects required to build levels
PlayerCharacter* player;
vector<Negotiator*> opponents;
vector<int> turns;
vector<float> keyPrices;
vector<Encounter*> levels;
vector<string> titles;
vector<string> titleText;
// Helpful methods for title printing
void centerText(string, string&);
void createTitle(char, int, string, string&, bool = true);
// Managing the class overall, starting and ending the game, etc.
void setUpGameVars();
void releaseMemory();
// All to do with starting the game and saving or loading saves
void savePlayerLevel();
void savePlayerInventory();
int getStartingLevel();
void loadPlayerSavedInventory();
void startScreen();
// The crux of story mode and interpreting user inputs
void lower(string&);
void removeWS(string&);
void fillCleanUInput();
void setUInput(string = "", string = "", string = "");
void handleSpecificInput(string, string&);
bool isAsteriskEntry(string);
void checkpoint();
void loadScript(string);
// Actually running the game, managing level structure
void runEnding();
void startCurrentLevel();
void endCurrentLevel();
void runNextLevel(bool = false);
void runIntro();
public:
GameMaster();
~GameMaster();
// These three methods called by main upon quit
void printCurrentLevelTitle();
bool getGameFinished();
void clearScreen();
// The primary mother function of the whole game
void playGame();
};
#endif
|
Synthesis and magnetoelectric properties of single crystals of metastable KCOPO4 Abstract Single crystals of the metastable phase of KCOPO4 (-KCP) have been synthesized in a gel of tetra-methoxysilane. The crystals have a hexagonal symmetry which belongs to space group P63 (cell parameters a = 18.206, c = 8.5135 and Z = 24). The crystals have been characterized by x-ray diffraction and by polarized light microscopy. The magnetoelectric properties of this compound have been studied at 4.4 K. No linear magnetoelectric effect has been detected and all coefficients of the tensor corresponding to the quadratic magnetoelectric effect (ME)H, have been determined at 4.4 K: 123 = -213 = 2.3 10−18, 113 = 223 = 7.1 10−18, 311 = 322 = 12.2 10−18 and 333 = 7.2 10−18 in (estimated error less than 5%). The absence of a linear magnetoelectric effect and the form of the tensor of the quadratic effect indicate that the magnetic symmetry of the crystal at this temperature must belong either to the antiferromagnetic magnetic point group 6 or to the paramagnetic one 61. The pyr... |
Chaos from turbulence: stochastic-chaotic equilibrium in turbulent convection at high Rayleigh numbers It is shown that correlation function of the mean wind velocity generated by a turbulent thermal convection (Rayleigh number $Ra \sim 10^{11}$) exhibits exponential decay with a very long correlation time, while corresponding largest Lyapunov exponent is certainly positive. These results together with the reconstructed phase portrait indicate presence of chaotic component in the examined mean wind. Telegraph approximation is also used to study relative contribution of the chaotic and stochastic components to the mean wind fluctuations and an equilibrium between these components has been studied in detail. It is shown that correlation function of the mean wind velocity generated by a turbulent thermal convection (Rayleigh number Ra ∼ 10 11 ) exhibits exponential decay with a very long correlation time, while corresponding largest Lyapunov exponent is certainly positive. These results together with the reconstructed phase portrait indicate presence of chaotic component in the examined mean wind. Telegraph approximation is also used to study relative contribution of the chaotic and stochastic components to the mean wind fluctuations and an equilibrium between these components has been studied in detail. PACS numbers: 47.55.pb, 47.52.+j Introduction. Turbulent thermal convection can generate large-scale (coherent) circulations, also known as mean winds. In recent decade a vigorous investigation of statistical properties of the thermal mean winds has been launched, (see for a recent review ). The winds' dynamics turned out to be very complex and many surprising features were discovered in laboratory experiments and numerical simulations. Simple stochastic models, were replaced by more sophisticated stochastic models,, which also addressed significant three-dimensional nature of the phenomenon. In these models, interaction between the large-scale wind and the small-scale turbulence provides a phenomenological stochastic driving term. Also some deterministic models with chaotic solutions were recently suggested,, and the idea that a large-scale instability in the developed turbulent convection (caused by a redistribution of the turbulent heat flux) can be an origin of the largescale coherent structures received certain experimental support (see Ref. and references therein). It is a difficult problem to distinguish between stochastic and chaotic processes, especially having a developed turbulence as a small-scale background. Observation of the Lorentzian spectra for the mean winds (reported in the Ref. ) makes this problem even more difficult. It is shown recently (see, for instance, Ref. ) that many properties of the chaotic processes with exponentially decaying correlation function (i.e. with the Lorentzian spectra) can be reproduced by some classical models of stochastic processes (and vise versa). Therefore, for such chaotic systems stochastic phenomenological models can be rather useful (and relevant). However, it is necessary to reveal an underlying chaotic (deterministic) nature of the phenomenon in order to understand real cause of the long-term correlations in such systems. Chaotic mean wind. Figure 1 shows a correlation function of a mean wind velocity, v(t), measured in a typical thermal convection laboratory experiment in a closed cylindrical container of aspect ratio 1 for Rayleigh num- ber Ra ∼ 10 11 (see Ref., for description of the experiment and of the other properties of the mean wind). The dashed straight line is drawn in the figure in order to indicate (in the semi-log scales) the exponential decay The correlation time 0 ≃ 600s is very large in comparison with the mean wind circulation period T c ≃ 30s. v(t)) 2 for < T c : This power law: '2/3', for structure function (by virtue of the Taylor hypothesis transforming the time scaling into the space one ) is known for fully developed turbulence as Kolmogorov's power law (cf Refs., ). In order to determine the presence of a deterministic chaos in the time series corresponding to the velocity of the mean wind for the time scales T c < t < 0, we calculated the largest Lyapunov exponent : max. A strong indicator for the presence of chaos in the examined time series is condition max > 0. If this is the case, then we have so-called exponential instability. Namely, two arbi-trary close trajectories of the system will diverge apart exponentially, that is the hallmark of chaos. At present time there is no theory relating max to −1 0 for chaotic systems. There is only a tentative suggestion that their values should be of the same order. To calculate max we used a direct algorithm developed by Wolf et al. Figure 2 shows the pertaining average maximal Lyapunov exponent at the pertaining time, calculated for the same data as those used for calculation of the correlation function (Fig. 1). The largest Lyapunov exponent converges very well to a positive value max ≃ 0.0023s −1. The ambivalent nature of the turbulence-induced coherent dynamics one can also see in Figure 3. This figure shows a phase portrait reconstructed from the noisereduced time series for the mean wind velocity. Thus, we can conclude that the thermal wind under study exhibit chaotic features and the long-term exponential correlation (Fig. 1) is presumably related to this chaotic behavior. Telegraph approximation. It is shown in Ref. that simple telegraph approximation of stochastic signals can reproduce main statistical properties of these signals. The telegraph approximation of signal v(t) can be constructed as following: From the definition the telegraph approximation can take only two values: 1 and -1. Figure 4 shows a comparison between correlation function of the full signal for the mean wind velocity v(t) (cf Fig. 1) and correlation function of its telegraph approximation u(t). One can see very good correspondence between these correlation functions. Therefore, certain main statistical properties of the full signal can be studied using the telegraph approximation in this case as well. Very significant characteristic of the telegraph signal is duration,, of the continuous intervals (boxes) where the signal takes value 1 or value -1. Probability density function of the duration (or life) times : p( ), for the telegraph approximation of the mean wind velocity signal was studied in detail in Ref.. It has a peak at ≃ T c. In the the range T c < < 0 the probability density exhibits a power law with the value of the exponent close to −1. For > 0 the probability density p( ) decays exponentially, as it should be for the random telegraph signal. Figure 5 shows cumulative probability In the semi-logarithmical scales the straight line indicates just the power law for p( ) (Eq. with ≃ −1): where P (T c ) is a constant part provided by the turbulent component to the cumulative probability P (t) for 0 > t > T c. On the whole, where i.e. ∆P is contribution of the stochastic components: turbulence and the large-scale random telegraph signal, to the total cumulative probability. In our case there is a probabilistic equipartition of the stochastic and chaotic components to the total cumulative probability P (∞) = 1: ∆P ≃ 0.5 ± 0.04. If this probabilistic equipartition is universal and the constant c in the power law Eq. is also universal (at least asymptotically), then is universal as well. From the present data we can estimate: c ≈ 0.16±0.01, and ln( 0 /T c ) ≈ 3 (see also below). Stochastic-chaotic equilibrium. This kind of probabilistic equipartition is usually related to statistical restoration of a symmetry. For instance, the spontaneous appearing of the mean wind results in a spontaneous breaking of mirror (or parity -P) symmetry. Statistical restoration of the parity (P-symmetry) means probabilistic equipartition of the u(t) = 1 and u(t) = −1 events (Eq. ). This probabilistic equipartition indeed takes place in present case and it is clear evidence of the statistical restoration of the P-symmetry (the directions of the mean wind rotation: clockwise and anticlockwise, are statistically equivalent). While the P-symmetry arises from space inversion, the T-symmetry arises from time reversal (reversibility). In the present case both P-and T-transformations result in the same mean wind switching: u → −u. It can be just statistical restoration of the combined PT-symmetry (statistical invariance under joint action of parity and time reversal) that results in the equal probability of the reversible (chaotic) and irreversible (random) switchings. The statistical restoration of the symmetry in a mixed stochastic-chaotic motion indicates an equilibrium reached between the stochastic and chaotic components (SC-equilibrium). For the closed orbits in the chaotic systems the Bowen's theorem is an analogue of ergodic theorem. This theorem provides a basis for the equality of the average over the phase space and the average over large-period orbits. Let us now, in the terms of the Bowen's theorem (cf. also ), consider a phase volume subregion ∆: c < ∆ ≪ (where c is phase volume corresponding to the upper turbulent scale T c ) and all the periodic trajectories passing through it. Different closed orbits can be distinguished by their period T. Their distribution does not depend significantly on location and boundaries of the subregion ∆. Moreover, if we consider the periodic orbits with periods in the interval (T, T + t) passing through the region, then we can use an estimate (the coarse graining is defined by the partition of phase space by the cells c ). Let us consider an entropy corresponding to the subregion ∆ (cf. Ref. ) and use estimate Eq. where is a constant (see below, and cf. also Ref. for quantum chaos). The logarithmic growth of entropy can imply certain self-similarity of joint probabilistic properties of the time series v(t) ↔ u(t) (see Eq. ). Indeed, let us consider probability distribution function, p(v, t), for the signal v at the impulses (boxes) of length ≤ t of its telegraph approximation u. For the stationary signal the self-similarity has a standard form p(v, t) where f is certain function of the argument v/t (the statistical restoration of the parity has been taken into account here). Let us consider an entropy Changing the integration variable: v → v/t and using equilibrium condition: S(T c ) = 0, one obtains from Eqs. and : (cf Eq. ). The insert in Fig. 5 shows a linear dependence of P (t) on t/T c for the turbulent regime that can be related to an analytic dependence of P (t) on t/T c for 0 < t/T c ≤ 1 (the linear dependence represents the first two terms approximation of the Taylor expansion; the small 'jump' at the point t = 0 is presumably related to transition from laminar to turbulent motion). In a vicinity of the SC-equilibrium P (t) is an analytic function of the entropy S(t) = ln(t/T c ). Applying again the Taylor expansion we obtain where c o = (∂P/∂S)| S=0 (cf. Fig. 5 and Refs., for the transformation t → ln t). Discussion. It is possible that the above consideration is also applicable for the large-scale coherent structures observed in other turbulent flows (in turbulent boundary layers, for instance ). If, for instance, at the SC-equilibrium the exponent is a global invariant of motion and its value is the same for t < T c and for t > T c, then, taking into account that the dimensionless entropy S( 0 ) = 1 one obtains from Eq. : ln( 0 /T c ) = 1/. For the Brownian processes = 1/2, whereas for the Kolmogorov's scaling: Eq., one has = 1/3. For Kolmogorov's turbulence as a background it results in estimate: ln( 0 /T c ) = 3 (cf. above). If the background turbulence produces scaling different from the Kolmogorov's one, then value of the -exponent can be different from 1/3. For the Kraichnan's scaling, for instance, = 1/4 and, consequently, ln( 0 /T c ) = 4 (i.e. in the case of the Kraichnan's background turbulence the correlations related to the large-scale coherent structures are even more long-term than those generated by the Kolmogorov's background turbulence). The author is grateful to J.J. Niemela, to K.R. Sreenivasan for sharing their data and discussions. |
<reponame>lukaopc/Projeto
//-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
// sphere
//-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
//#include <stdio.h>
#include <string.h>
#include <gl/glut.h>
#ifndef SPHERE_H
#define SPHERE_H
//-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
//-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
class CSphere {
//-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
protected:
/// sphere position
float m_afPosition[3];
/// sphere radius
float m_fRadius;
//-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
public:
/// constructor
CSphere();
/// destructor
~CSphere();
/// initialize the sphere
bool Init(float *pfPosition, float fRadius);
/// draw
void Draw();
/// chech collision - negative distances means a miss
float CheckCollisionRay(float *pfPosition, float *pfDirection);
/// return sphere position
float *GetPosition() { return m_afPosition; }
/// set sphere position
void SetPosition(float *pfPos) { memcpy(m_afPosition, pfPos, sizeof(float) * 3); }
};
#endif //SPHERE_H
|
DONALD RUMSFELD, SECRETARY OF STATE: ... Sure, there's several ways that could happen. Depends on what takes place between now and then; it depends on what happens to the regime; it depends on the extent to which the capabilities of the Iraqi military and the regime are degraded between now and then; it depends the conviction on the part of the Iraqi people that Saddam Hussein is -- is definitely going to be gone and that emboldens then. So there's lots of ways.
QUESTION: Mr. Secretary, can I ask -- it's supposed to be about 100 degrees in Baghdad this weekend and as forces move closer to the city the concern about chemical weapons -- are you concerned about the weather and the possibility that those weapons may be used?
RUMSFELD: I looked at a range today and it was something like 55 to 72 or something.
GEN. RICHARD MYERS, JOINT CHIEF CHAIRMAN: The -- the -- the troops are prepared to fight in weather. We've talked about that before. Certainly when they put on their chemical protective suits it's -- it's hotter for them. But we can also fight at night. That's one of the things our forces are able to do. And we can pick and choose our times because right now we're the military -- militarily dominant force on the battlefield.
So it would slow a little bit, but it would not stop progress. |
Univision president and CEO Randy Falco on Wednesday sent a letter to Janet H. Brown, the Commission on Presidential Debates’ executive director, expressing “disappointment on behalf of the millions of Hispanics who do not have a voice in the upcoming presidential debates.”
Earlier this week the Commission announced Jim Lehrer of PBS, Bob Schieffer of CBS, Candy Crowley of CNN and Martha Raddatz of ABC News will moderate this year’s debates. All the moderators are white.
(It’s worth noting Crowley will be the first woman to moderate a presidential debate in two decades but as TPM points out “she will oversee the town-hall style debate where audience members ask the majority of the questions.”)
Univision nominated their top bilingual anchors Jorge Ramos and Maria Elena Salinas as contenders to moderate the upcoming debates but the Commission did not select either of them.
“Since you have already made your decision on moderators for the debates and have neglected to have someone speak credibly to the concerns of Hispanics in America, Univision would be willing to create a forum,” Falco wrote in his letter.
Falco went on to lobby for an additional debate that could “speak directly to this burgeoning audience so influential to the presidential dialogue and outcome.”
The Commission rejected Univision’s offer on Tuesday and said that the current moderators “see their assignment as representing all Americans in their choice of topics and questions.”
“The lack of diversity among this year’s debate moderators is representative of the overall lack of diversity in news media,” NAACP president and CEO Benjamin Todd Jealous said in a statement. “Whether it’s as primetime news anchors, debate moderators, or commentators on the influential Sunday morning political talk shows, people of color — and African Americans specifically — are strikingly underrepresented.”
Former ABC News anchor Carole Simpson was the last woman to moderate a presidential debate when she presided over a 1992 discussion between George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton. In 2008, PBS’ Gwen Ifill moderated the vice presidential debate between Joe Biden and Sarah Palin. |
<filename>core/metamodel/src/main/java/org/apache/isis/core/metamodel/facets/objectvalue/multiline/MultiLineFacetAbstract.java
/*
* Licensed to the Apache Software Foundation (ASF) under one
* or more contributor license agreements. See the NOTICE file
* distributed with this work for additional information
* regarding copyright ownership. The ASF licenses this file
* to you under the Apache License, Version 2.0 (the
* "License"); you may not use this file except in compliance
* with the License. You may obtain a copy of the License at
*
* http://www.apache.org/licenses/LICENSE-2.0
*
* Unless required by applicable law or agreed to in writing,
* software distributed under the License is distributed on an
* "AS IS" BASIS, WITHOUT WARRANTIES OR CONDITIONS OF ANY
* KIND, either express or implied. See the License for the
* specific language governing permissions and limitations
* under the License.
*/
package org.apache.isis.core.metamodel.facets.objectvalue.multiline;
import java.util.function.BiConsumer;
import org.apache.isis.core.metamodel.facetapi.Facet;
import org.apache.isis.core.metamodel.facetapi.FacetAbstract;
import org.apache.isis.core.metamodel.facetapi.FacetHolder;
import lombok.NonNull;
public abstract class MultiLineFacetAbstract
extends FacetAbstract
implements MultiLineFacet {
public static final Class<MultiLineFacet> type() {
return MultiLineFacet.class;
}
private final int numberOfLines;
public MultiLineFacetAbstract(final int numberOfLines, final FacetHolder holder) {
super(type(), holder);
this.numberOfLines = numberOfLines;
}
public MultiLineFacetAbstract(final int numberOfLines, final FacetHolder holder, final Facet.Precedence precedence) {
super(type(), holder, precedence);
this.numberOfLines = numberOfLines;
}
@Override
public int numberOfLines() {
return numberOfLines;
}
@Override
public void visitAttributes(final BiConsumer<String, Object> visitor) {
super.visitAttributes(visitor);
visitor.accept("numberOfLines", numberOfLines);
}
@Override
public boolean semanticEquals(final @NonNull Facet other) {
return other instanceof MultiLineFacet
? this.numberOfLines() == ((MultiLineFacet)other).numberOfLines()
: false;
}
}
|
Quantifying the heterogeneous heat response of Escherichia coli under dynamic temperatures Aims: Nonsigmoid growth curves of Escherichia coli obtained at constant temperatures near the maximum growth temperature (Tmax) were previously explained by the coexistence of two subpopulations, i.e. a stresssensitive and a stressresistant subpopulation. Mathematical simulations with a heterogeneous model support this hypothesis for static experiments at 45°C. In this article, the behaviour of E. coli, when subjected to a linearly increasing temperature crossing Tmax, is studied. |
Scaling in the Rubinstein-Duke Model for Reptation We consider an arbitrarily charged polymer driven by a weak field through a gel according to the rules of the Rubinstein-Duke model. The probability distribution in the stationary state is related to that of the model in which only the head is charged. Thereby drift velocity, diffusion constant and orientation of any charged polymers are expressed in terms of those of the central model. Mapping the problem on a random walk of a tagged particle along a one-dimenional chain, leads to a unified scaling expression for the local orientation. It provides also an elucidation of the role of corrections to scaling. We consider an arbitrarily charged polymer driven by a weak field through a gel according to the rules of the Rubinstein-Duke model. The probability distribution in the stationary state is related to that of the model in which only the head is charged. Thereby drift velocity, diffusion constant and orientation of any charged polymers are expressed in terms of those of the central model. Mapping the problem on a random walk of a tagged particle along a one-dimenional chain, leads to a unified scaling expression for the local orientation. It provides also an elucidation of the role of corrections to scaling. The basic ingredient of the physics of polymers is scaling, i.e. the analysis of the properties as function of the length N of the polymer chain. While most of the leading scaling behavior is understood, the comparison between theory and experiment is hampered by large corrections to scaling. A typical example is the renewal time for polymers dissolved in a gel. Theory predicts behavior ∼ N 3, while experiments seem to converge on ∼ N 3.4. The discrepancy has been blamed on large corrections to scaling, blurring the true asymptotic behavior. This suggestion has been given a firm basis by the analysis of Carlon et. al. of the renewal time in the Rubinstein-Duke (RD) model for reptation. Polymers up to thousands of base pairs may still have large corrections to the asymptotic scaling behavior. Since they find that deviations from the leading scaling behavior decay as 1/ √ N, their work indicates that the correction to scaling exponent is -1/2. Sofar the scaling analysis has been restricted to global properties, such as renewal time and diffusion coefficient. Equally interesting and more informative, are scaling properties related to the position in the chain. As example consider a neutral polymer dissolved in a gel with a magnetic beat attached to the head of the polymer. The polymer can be pulled through the gel by a magnetic field. It is the analogon of the more common electrophoresis (EP) and has been named magnetophoresis (MP). The field orients the polymer links, at the head stronger than at the tail. On top of this overal effect is a subtile scaling behavior near head and tail, as we will show. Similar effects occur in electrophoresis, which is a central tool of DNA fingerprinting. DNA, being an acid, acquires as local charge, when dissolved in a gel like agarose. These local charges are evenly spread over the chain and an electric field pulls equally strong at all elements of the polymer. The local orientation of this chain has an even more interesting scaling behavior. The motion of a polymer is far too complicated to be taken into full detailed account. Therefore lattice models have been designed for reptation, in which the polymer is viewed as a chain of hopping reptons, confined to a tube of pores in the gel. Among them the RD model stands out by the simplicity of the motion rules. Although the model is a rather crude simplication of the reality, it captures a number of basic features of reptation. This paper is concerned with scaling effects involving the position along the chain, as they emerge in the RD model. An attractive aspect of the RD model is the fact that its hopping operator is a one-dimensional spin operator, albeit a non-hermitian hamiltonian. This allows to apply the Density Matrix Renormalization Group (DMRG) technique to study the stationary state of the Master Equation. The DMRG method gives precision data for the whole scala of chains up to lengths of 150 reptons, which make it ideally suited for finite size analysis. This has an advantage over direct simulations of the model, which are slow, due to the long renewal time, and limited by statistical errors. In this paper we linearize the Master Equation for the probability distribution with respect to the driving field and study the solution for an arbitrarily charged polymer. First we relate the probability distribution of the general case to that for the MP model. This enables us to link the properties of the original RD model, with equal charges on all reptons, to those of the MP model. We map the MP model on the problem of a random walker on a one-dimensional chain. Going back and forth from the EP and MP variant, we derive scaling properties for the various regions of the local orientation. The RD model views the polymer as a a onedimensional string of reptons connected by links. The reptons are located in the cells of a d-dimensional hypercubic lattice with the field along the body diagonal. We number the reptons from 1 (tail) to N (head). The reptons hop independently from each other, under the constraint that the links always connect two reptons in adjacent cells, or two reptons in the same cell. Only the projection of a link on the field direction is important for the probability distribution. A configuration of the polymer can be represented by a vector y = (y 1,, y N −1 ), of link variables, with y j = 0, ±1, measuring the distance between the reptons j and j + 1 along the field direction. The Master Equation for the stationary probability distribution P (y) has the form W (y|y ) is the transition rate from configuration y to y. A move of repton i in the direction of the field has a bias B i = exp(q i /2), where measures the strength of the field and q i the charge of the repton. Reptons moving opposite to the field are biased with B −1 i. Although the influence of the embedding dimension has interesting aspects, we confine ourselves in this paper to d = 1, for which the most extensive DMRG results are obtained, yielding the most accurate scaling data. We consider the field strength as a small parameter (N < 1); it is experimentally the most relevant regime. For = 0 the stochastic matrix is symmetric and has the solution P 0 (y) = 3 −(N −1), all 3 N −1 configurations being equally probable. Expanding the Master Equation in powers of M = M 0 + M 1 +, P (y) = P 0 (y) + P 1 (y) +, leads to the lowest order equation M 0 P 0 = 0 and to the first order equation This paper is concerned with its solution. The remarkable point is that the dependence on the charge distribution can be made explicit. Here P 1 MP (y) is the first order distribution of the MP model with a unit charge on the last repton only. The proof follows by substitution in. So all cases are reduced to this central model. A direct consequence of this relation is that the drift velocity v of an arbitrary q i is related to that of the MP model as Thus the drift velocity depends only on the total charge. This was anticipated in. E.g. the drift velocity of the EP model is N times that of the MP model. A nice numerical illustration of relation is given by the calculation of the local orientation y j. This is a first order effect and gives a relation e.g. between the EP model (all q i = 1) and the MP model (only q N = 1). Both models have been treated with DMRG. In Fig. 1 we show the values for the MP model and the equivalent combination for the EP model. The correspondence is perfect. It shows that for both calculations is small enough to guarantee that the weak field limit applies. It also is a proof of the accuracy of the DMRG method, since the calculations were performed prior to the derivation of relation. Although the MP orien- tation is our basic ingredient, plotting the EP orientations more clearly shows the N dependence, see Fig. 2. To explain the complicated scaling behavior of the these curves is the main aim of this paper. We already note that the curves (almost) pass through the same point at the head and tail, since there is a well known relation between the orientation of the first link and the drift velocity. In first order, the field dependence only combines with the sign of one link at the time Here x is the vector (x 1,, x N −1 ) with x j = y 2 j. The remaining factor P j (x) depends on the position j of this link but not on the signs of the other links. To distinguish link j from the others we give it a tag. The notation P j (x) anticipates that it can be seen as the (unnormalized) probability that the chain is in configuration x and the tagged link at j. Relation to (N − 1)2 N −1 points (j, x). We refer to x i = 1 as a "particle" and to x i = 0 as a "hole". The marked link j is a tagged particle. The probability interpretation for P j (x) is unique for the MP model. As shows, all P 1 can be cast in the form, but the corresponding P j 's do not need to be positive. The equation for P j (x) follows from, summing over all y which lead to the same configuration (j, x). The known term in becomes with L = j x j, as only the last repton is effected by the field. We can eliminate this term from using a symmetry of the EP model. When all reptons are pulled evenly, the transformation y = (y 1,, y N −1 ) ↔ y T = (−y N −1,, −y 1 ), leaves the probability invariant, as the numbering from head to tail is equivalent to our numbering from tail to head. This symmetry is clearly reflected in the curves of Fig. 2. With relation we can transfer the EP symmetry to the MP model. It yields The transposed vector is x T = (x N −1,, x 1 ). We use for j = N − 1, in order to eliminate the known term in. Then equation for P j (x) becomes homogeneous again and therefore a stationary Master Equation for P j (x), which proves that P j (x) can be interpreted as a probability. This new Master Equation is not very different from the original one. The substitution has added an extra process: the tagged particle may jump from the tail to the head, thereby changing the configuration (1, x) to (N − 1, x T ). In addition we have the rule that the tagged particle may not leave or enter the chain, as a consequence of the fact that the tagged particle always has to be present. This interpretation describes P j (x) as a random walk of a tagged particle at j in the sea of other particles and holes in configuration x. The possible moves are interchanges of particles and holes. Particles and holes may leave and enter the chain, but not the tag, which can jump from tail to head (and not reverse) as described above. The probability p j that the tag is at j, is x P j (x). This is the quantity to be discussed, since it is equivalent to the local orientation: y j = 2p j /3, the 2/3 coming from the fraction of particles in the chain. An equation for p j follows from the observation that the tag can only jump to neighboring positions j ± 1, leading to the effective equation with appropriate changes at the end links. W + (j) is the probability that, if the tag is at j, a hole is at j + 1 such that the tag can jump to the right. Similarly W − (j) is the conditional probability that the tag at j is neighbored by a hole at j − 1. Fortunately the DMRG calculations not only provide information on p j, but also on the transition rates W ± (j), since W ± (j)p j is the joint probability on a tag-hole pair and these correlation functions have been calculated. If the holes were randomly distributed, one would expect 1/3 for these rates, a value to which the rates converge in the bulk of the chain. The deviations from 1/3 are the largest at the tail of the chain (not at the head!). After a short initial regime they start to fall off smoothly as 1/j. In the smooth regime one may replace the difference equation, by a Fokker-Planck equation, keeping only the first and second derivative with respect to j. The essential point in the scaling analysis is that the difference of the W 's obeys a simple scaling relation which is demonstrated in Fig. 3, where we plot the difference against the scaling variable x = j/ √ N. This difference enters in the Fokker-Planck equation as the systematic force. It tends to push the tag away from the tail. For N → ∞, the part at the head, where the various values of N fan out, shifts to larger and larger values, while the function g(x) approaches the limit 1/3. The small region at the tail side, where the scaling does not hold, shrinks with increasing N in this plot. In this region the transition rates change appreciably with each link, and one has to use the discrete equations, starting from a value p 1. For values j ∼ √ N the Fokker-Planck equation reads, In the right hand side we have replaced the sum of the W 's by 2/3, since the correction is an order √ N smaller. The dominant solution of has the form x 0 is the point where we match the solution with the outcome of the intial regime. The solution bridges the initial and asymptotic behavior. We first inspect what gives for the middle of the chain x m = √ N /2. From the asymptotics of g(x) for small and large x one finds Now p(x m ) = 1/2 by symmetry and p(x 0 ) inherits its magnitude from p 1, which equals 3v MP /2 and is therefore order N −2 (see and ). Thus we find for the exponent The value of g(∞) follows from the behavior of R(x) around x m. Expansion of g(x) in powers of x −1 gives Thus g(∞) = 1/3, otherwise the behavior would not be linear in j/N. With this implies g = 1. The 1/ √ N terms lead to the slope of the EP profile in the middle. This slope must grow as √ N and a numerical fit gives g −1 = 0.5. The small x behavior of R(x) yields This power is higher than the estimate of Barkema and Newman, who give 2.7 for the exponent. We could not univocally find an exponent by fitting the initial orientation of a long chain. Here we see that the power 3 is fixed by the asymptotic properties of the scaling function g(x), for small and large x, following from v MP and the slope in the middle of the chain. We also note that this power does not set in inmediately at the tail, but develops in the early regime of the variable x = j/ √ N. Even for our longest chains N = 151, the window where the power applies is rather small. In summary, the regions of order √ N at the ends of the chain which differ from the bulk, originate from the algebraic decay (as 1/j) towards the bulk of the correlations between two successive links. This explains why finite size corrections decay with an exponent −1/2. |
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