"Once the yellow journals take us up, then the counts of the Guard are on the spot, and then, may the Lord have mercy on us! They"re much better-looking and more chivalrous than you; and if we _must_ become _cocottes_, we"d like at least to know for whom and for what. And if you affect indifference, then you"re nothing in our opinion but a bad joke of yesterday."
Lilly"s breath was taken away. She had not thought it possible that anyone should dare to speak to Richard in such a tone. She laid her hand on his shoulder deprecatingly to pacify him. She feared he might become angry and enforce his rights as master of the place.
The very contrary occurred.
"I will gladly do what you say," he replied, mealy-mouthed, "if only I knew--"
"I"ll tell you what you don"t know. You mustn"t lead her around like an animal in a show. Don"t expose her to the gaze of all sorts of people.
Don"t seat her in the front of the box at opera for every rake to stare at."
Richard plucked up his spirits for a defence.
"Aren"t _you_ to be seen everywhere?"
"Certainly. Because I myself want to see things. That"s the reason I ran away from my horror of a husband. Nevertheless I don"t take box seats.
And I don"t fly around race tracks either. I"m by nature a Bohemian, while Lilly, with her quiet, refined heart, is a bourgeois, and a bourgeois she ought to remain, as if she were your wife by law. But neither of us wants to descend to the demi-monde, I mean what we mean by demi-monde in Germany. In the French sense we"ve been in it a long time.
That"s what I have to say to you, my dear sir."
Richard arose helplessly, quite red in the face, gnawing ferociously at his moustache.
"I"ve always had nothing but her good at heart," he said. "Beside, it was your wish, too, wasn"t it, Lilly?"
Lilly could not make denial. She did not want to shame him any further; and she turned aside without replying.
"And supposing it was her wish a thousand times!" the little woman rejoined in Lilly"s stead. "You should have said to her: "My dear, you don"t understand. Since we are not married"--_nota bene_, that would be the best for both of you--"we must live modestly, otherwise I should do you mortal injury, I should throw you in the mire.""
Lilly felt tears rising to her eyes, as always when the subject of marriage in connection with Richard and herself; arose. Not to show her emotion, she quickly left the room to fetch Richard"s overcoat. It was already quarter of six.
She accompanied him to the door and kissed him tenderly. He must by no means suppose that he had jarred her or that she bore him a grudge.
When she returned to her guest, she took his part eagerly. He was very dear and good. He had saved her from ruin, and certainly meditated no evil.
"I"m not here to sow dissension," said the little woman, laughing. She then asked to be allowed to remain a little longer. "My first name is Jula, and please avail yourself of it in the future."
They sat hand in hand on the straight sofa, over which Walter"s masterful smile had been replaced by an extremely indifferent sheep-shearing scene. On the gla.s.s plate in front of each was a bit of nibbled cake. For the first time in her life Lilly enjoyed the pleasure of possessing something like a friend--she had always felt uneasy in Miss von Schwertfeger"s presence.
The canary bird sang a sorry spring song, and the sparrows outside in the chestnut trees responded. The May sun painted red spirals on the wall, and from time to time a greenish golden flash darted from the aquarium when one of the little fish shot through the waving algae.
The hour of confidences had struck.
"I put on mighty superior airs just then," said Mrs. Jula. "But it was necessary to, my dear. Because you"re just like me, you are standing on the very edge. One touch, and over we go--where no one will pick us up.
If we could rely on our own character, our plight would not be so bad, but there are no two ways about it, we can"t always be faithful--we don"t want to be."
"How can you say such a thing?" cried Lilly, horror-stricken.
Mrs. Jula ran her little red tongue along her lips.
"Just wait, my dear. The men we meet are really not calculated to make us see that we are here for one alone. In fact, the only way to enjoy them is in the plural. Oh, I could tell you things! But I don"t want to alarm you. Besides, there"s a danger attached to the plural. Each man we give ourselves up to robs us of a piece of what is best in us--what is best, I tell you, even if we can"t clearly define it. It isn"t consciousness of our own worth, because, if possible, that survives.
It"s not purity either. We don"t give a fig for purity. Happiness, certainly not. We should die of dulness if we stuck to one man. I"ve spoken to a number of women, and they all have the same feeling. Some of them think it"s better not to fall in love, and do it just from caprice.
Some swear by the grand pa.s.sion, which is to consecrate everything. No two persons, I suppose, think alike in this respect. And now I want to give you a little advice, because your turn will come some day. Don"t accept any gifts, at least, no gifts of money value. At the utmost flowers, and none too many of them. And don"t give gifts in return, because everything belongs to "him." Married women may; but it"s not seemly for us. In general, avoid the _amant de caeur_, because _amant-de-caeurdom_ is characteristic of prost.i.tutes. Married women may do all that, because they have to take revenge for being tied to the "one." We, on the contrary, are free. We are permitted to go whenever we want to. But we mustn"t. Anything, but not that."
"Why mustn"t we?" asked Lilly, who suddenly began to feel her chains.
"Married women may. They _may_ everything. They may be divorced as often as they want, and carry their heads just as high as before. As for us, each time we"re thrust lower into the world of prost.i.tutes; and the oftener we change, the more we become free booty. All very well if we have money of our own. But neither you nor I have. They hover over us like vultures ready to swoop down upon us. If she"s allowed herself to be supported by him--and _him_--and _him_, why isn"t she to be had for _my_ good money, too? That"s the reason we must hold fast to the one we have, no matter how small and horrid he is, no matter how repulsive we think him.
"I don"t understand," said Lilly. "If you"re with a man, you love him."
"Oh--do you mean to say you loved every man you were with?"
"Why, there weren"t so many," replied Lilly. "Beside my husband, the general"--she could not deny herself the joy of uttering that proud word--"there was only one other, and now--here--"
"Oh, stuff!" cried Mrs. Jula in righteous indignation. "Do you want to blossom in my eyes as a rose of virtue?"
Lilly protested she was speaking the truth.
Mrs. Jula could not credit it.
"Why, then, you"re not one of us! You ought really be a judge"s wife."
Lilly laughed. She who had always thought sentence had long before been p.r.o.nounced upon her immoral conduct, now heard herself ridiculed for her excess of virtue.
"Oh, if I were to tell you the stories of all the women we meet,"
continued Mrs. Jula. "One of them goes with girls in secret. One rents out rooms to students, but only to students she likes. And then there"s one"--her voice sank to a whisper--"who fetches her lovers in from the street."
Lilly shuddered.
"What! I"ve sat next to a woman like that, and never suspected it!"
Mrs. Jula"s eyes glowed into s.p.a.ce.
"It"s dreadful, isn"t it?" she said, and laughed. "Well, it doesn"t bother me. I have my poems. They lend sanct.i.ty to my acts and wash me clean again. It"s for their sake I do it all. I need sensations, yes, I need sensations. I must feel my blood chase through my veins. I must study, study--something new in each one. No matter how inane a man may be, so inane that a thimble would hold his soul, nevertheless he has one hour of intoxication to give you, one hour in which all the bells chime and even the spheres make their heavenly music. And the more men you possess, the more life you possess, the more souls you creep into. All the doors of life fly open. All the secrets are revealed. If you can hear the pulsebeat of a stranger, can feel it under your fingers--he"s yours--he"s you yourself. Then you live one life more. Yes, that"s life.
That"s what I call life."
Lilly said to herself she could not possibly take this talk seriously, though hot and cold waves shivered through her body.
"I don"t understand what you say," she replied, and rose.
Mrs. Jula did not even hear her. A mystic fire smouldered in her eyes.
She looked like a priestess sacrificing to dark G.o.ds.
It struck eight o"clock.
The maid had set the table in the dining-room, and had laid a cover for the strange lady, who did not seem disposed to leave. She now came to announce that the meal was served.
"Will you stay and dine with me?" asked Lilly, somewhat against her will.
At last Mrs. Jula woke up. She neither accepted nor declined, but arose and disengaged her flaming hat from her dark curls.