Who would take us to be women?
It had become a Sunday habit of theirs to celebrate the holy Mass first thing in the morning in each other's company, and then meet with Franz at their favorite café for brunch. The Count was a most charming gentleman, beguiling others with sweet words and gentle eyes in spite of his fearsome, almost unnatural appearance. In the whirlwind of his conversation with Franz, Albert would often find himself utterly lost and sometimes felt inadequate at failing to match neither Franz's wit nor the Count's intelligence.
Sunday was when the Count was his most relaxed, and as such Albert was able to discover small, important details about a man who did not make a habit out of revealing anything about himself. He had, for one, discovered the Count's more carnal tastes in people, and although he knew he should have been alarmed that they did not direct themselves particularly towards women, it was the Count, and Albert could forgive the Count anything.
By their third rendezvous, Albert felt a most uncomfortable constricting in his throat and chest whenever he would see the Count's eyes stray towards another long-limbed figure in the blossom of youth, and promptly attempted all the more to enjoin the Count in conversation, to hold the man to pay attention to him and look only at him. Franz would be a little surprised at his vehemence. The Count, on the other hand, would smile in a way that brought two of his teeth out like fangs and indulge him, most graciously, with delicate words and sweet temperament.