“Where do you think Guaita is going to find a girl like that in Paris?”
Pierre rose to his feet.
“Tell me,” he said to Léo Taxil in a voice that was hoarse, “where do these orgies take place?”
“The Black Mass must be said in a consecrated Chapel,” Léo Taxil answered.
“I know that!” Pierre said impatiently, “but where? Tell me where?”
“What’s the matter, Pierre?” Joseph Péladan asked.
Pierre put his hand on Taxil’s shoulder.
“The address,” he said in a voice of command.
“The de Rochegude house in the Avenue du Bois off the Champs Élysées.”
Pierre turned and walked away down the room.
As he reached the door, he saw sitting at a table a number of young anarchists, one of whom he knew quite well.
He stopped.
“Jacques, have you a pistol with you?” he asked.
“But, of course!” Jacque
