Erotic Transformation Flow
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I dropped Madame Monan a curtsy when Colette introduced me. Madame remarked what a pretty young lady I was. Colette asked me to pour tea, and the conversation went on. I was feeling less tense all the time, and even found it fairly easy to engage in polite conversation. The two French women stayed for almost an hour. I was still nervous, but Colette later told me that I had done very well. When I was introduced as Antoinette de Colbert, Colette's cousin (or rather `cousine'), who had come from Martinique to be her companion, I found it all very strange. Madame Monan had to know everything about my family, the Antilles and about me. I told them about my father who owned a sugar plantation, my sister who was married, and my own education at a convent school, just as Colette had drummed into me how I must tell it when asked. I was even talking about Sister Anne-Marie who taught me Latin, and how I loved embroidery (this last was true, although Colette had just started teaching me), when Colette intervened, asking me to pour tea, and then changing the subject. I liked Michelle too. She was nearly eighteen, and giggled very often. When her mother asked to see something in another room, and Colette had to go to show her, I was alone with Michelle for a while. Colette later said she was very nervous about leaving me. Michelle told me about her own convent school, which she was leaving at Christmas, and about some funny things that happened recently. We both sat there giggling without stopping. Madame Monan invited us to dinner on Tuesday week just before she left. I felt that I had scored points there, and both Madame and her daughter seemed to like me. Colette then said with a smile, `It appears that you ought to get about more, Antoinette.' So the following Sunday, I went with Colette to church. When I was much younger I used to go to the French church in London with my mother, but that was some years before. Now I felt such a sense of ease, sitting in the Mallarmes pew with Colette and Marie. It felt a little strange, though. As a woman I was wearing a hat, and I had had to take my hat off when I had gone to church as a boy. The mass was also attended by a number of British soldiers. They sat in pews separate from the French, and I had no reason to speak to them. But I knew I needed to avoid coming too close to them, just in case. I had never known until that Sunday that Sergeant-Major Daly was a Catholic.
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