Now she stood entirely unclothed.
The garish studio light p.r.i.c.ked her flesh painfully as with a thousand needles.
She wanted to groan and creep into a corner, but she turned her clenched fists outward, threw back her shoulders, and presented herself to the painter"s greedy gaze.
"Why don"t you begin?" she asked. As she spoke she felt that her smarting scorn was distorting her face.
"I"ll begin immediately," he stammered, choking over each word. "I won"t utter--a syllable--or the vision will vanish. I"ll begin."
He s.n.a.t.c.hed up the palette, pressed the tubes, and readjusted the picture on the easel.
He made a few strokes, then threw the brushes down. He reeled like a drunkard.
"No use this way," he said, mumbling to himself. "You must pose."
"Just as you wish," she replied, still with that mocking smile, and stretched out her arms like the beauty of the picture.
He was not yet satisfied, and wanted to approach her. He did not dare to.
"I will move the mirror, so that you can see for yourself what is wrong in your pose."
He did so.
Lilly shuddered. A strange wild animal, which was not even beautiful, seemed to be standing there.
"Not right yet," she heard him say. "The att.i.tude is meaningless--you"ve got to know what it"s for."
He went to the back of the studio and rummaged among all sorts of gear and fetched out a tremendously thick chain, the colour of rusty iron, which did not clank while being handled.
"It won"t be cold and won"t weigh you down," he said with a short, forced laugh. "It"s made of papier mache."
Then she had to suffer his coming close to her and laying the chain about her body.
He was panting and his breath streamed upon her hotly.
Each tremulous touch of his fingers was like a sabre slash.
He returned to the easel, groped for the brushes and began to paint again.
Suddenly he cast everything from him, seized the picture with both hands and dashed it against the easel. One of the rods tore through the canvas and split it in two.
"For G.o.d"s sake!" cried Lilly, horror-stricken.
He threw himself upon her.
She feebly attempted to defend herself with the chain.
But the chain was made of papier mache.
And she would not have had it otherwise.
Down into the mire, quickly, with closed eyes!
The next day Richard paid his customary afternoon visit. His lids were reddened and his eyes gla.s.sy. He looked completely crushed, but he behaved as if nothing had occurred.
Lilly had scarcely expected him, and she received him with frigid astonishment.
"Oh," he said, "on account of yesterday. After you left I had a tough discussion with mama. You mustn"t come to the factory. I had to promise her that. As for the rest, I think we"ll not speak of it any more. The young lady"s leaving this evening. So let"s kiss."
They kissed. And all was as before.
CHAPTER X
Once more the chestnuts put on their yellow cloaks and the peep holes in the foliage widened. From her window Lilly could see the ducks foraging, and the odorous, fruit-laden barges on their laborious way to market sunk deep in the water under their summer cargo.
Once more the world m.u.f.fled itself up for winter weather; once more metropolitan amus.e.m.e.nts turned on their gay lights.
In decent half-mourning the chase began again. Richard objected to remaining like a pickle in a jar.
This time, however, they entirely renounced box seats at dazzling shows and suppers at aristocratic restaurants. Richard no longer had to establish himself triumphantly in the possession of a famous--at the same time cheap--_horizontale de grande marque_. They quietly remained on a middle-cla.s.s level, where German champagne reigns supreme and the star Kempinski is in the ascendant.
But here, too, in cabarets and theatres where smoking is allowed, in jolly little nooks and respectable looking back rooms, they pa.s.sed numberless hours in riotous abandon.
The women, who in the other world had felt somewhat out of place and embarra.s.sed, enjoyed themselves better in these more modest surroundings, and the gentlemen were content that their shirt fronts retained the starch longer.
The personnel remained about the same. Only a few dandies dropped away, who saw no fun in life unless it offered them an occasional opportunity to receive a condescending nod from a few lieutenants of the Guard in citizens" clothes.
Lilly followed the crowd, and thought it had to be so.
For the most part she sat there saying little and smiling a friendly smile. She permitted the gentlemen to pay her court and was moderately responsive. She listened indifferently to the confidences of the ladies, all of whom were well-disposed to her, because as everyone soon realised, Lilly had no desire to poach on another"s preserves.
They might have taken her to be limited or phlegmatic, if from time to time the champagne had not relaxed her rigidity and enlivened her with a different spirit. She slowly came out of her state of torpor. Her eyes flashed, her cheeks reddened. She laughed aloud, made madcap remarks, told the colonel"s club jokes, and finally fell into a sort of ecstasy, in which she sang comic songs in a tremulous chirp, imitated well-known actors, and even danced the bold dances she had seen on the variety stage.
Her memory was incredibly good. She remembered things she had heard only once, and quite unconsciously, for in her normal state she recalled even less than others. The wine first had to wash away the barriers that always hemmed her being.
Her a.s.sociates soon became aware of this, and tried to trick her into the condition that promised them a merry entertainment. But she resisted with all her might. She waged constant warfare without even Richard as an ally. It flattered his vanity to have his beautiful mistress admired because of her talents.
The next day Lilly always felt bruised and battered and despondent.
And sometimes when the field of her spiritual vision was completely filled with red, kicking legs and the empty teasing dribble of comic songs, she heard a still small voice in admonition:
"There was a time when you lived otherwise. There was a time when you aspired to the heights."