liethere
heroically
till
,
with
the
help
of
an
agent
,
I
bundled
her
into
a
cab
.
She
is
genial
and
fond
of
a
gross
pleasantry
,
very
near
to
‘
the
people
’
—
le
peuple
,
as
she
says
,
purringly
and
pityingly
.
All
individuals
who
have
class
marked
on
them
strongly
resemble
each
other
.
A
typical
duchess
is
much
more
like
a
typical
nurserymaid
than
she
is
like
anybody
not
standardized
to
the
same
extent
.
So
is
Bertha
,
a
bourgeoise
,
or
rather
bourgeois-Bohemian
,
reminiscent
of
the
popular
maiden
.
”
Tarr
relighted
his
cigarette
.
“
She
is
full
of
good
sense
.
—
She
is
a
high
standard
Aryan
female
,
in
good
condition
,
superbly
made
;
of
the
succulent
,
obedient
,
clear
,
peasant
type
.
It
is
natural
that
in
my
healthy
youth
,
living
in
these
Bohemian
wastes
,
I
should
catch
fire
.
But
that
is
not
the
whole
of
the
picture
.
She
is
unfortunately
not
a
peasant
.
She
has
German
culture
,
and
a
florid
philosophy
of
love
.
—
She
is
an
art-student
.
—
She
is
absurd
.
”
Tarr
struck
a
match
for
his
cigarette
.
“
You
would
ask
then
how
it
is
that
I
am
still
there
?
The
peasant-girl
—
if
such
it
were
—
would
not
hold
you
for
ever
;
even
less
so
the
spoiled
peasant
.
—
But
that’s
where
the
mischief
lies
.
—
That
bourgeois
,
spoiled
,
ridiculous
element
was
the
trap
.
I
was
innocently
depraved
enough
to
find
it
irresistible
.
It
had
the
charm
of
a
vulgar
wall-paper
,
a
gimcrack
ornament
.
A
cosy
banality
set
in
the
midst
of
a
rough
life
.
Youthful
exoticism
has
done
it
,
the
something
different
from
oneself
.
”
Butcher
did
not
roll
his
eyes
any
more
.
They
looked
rather
moist
.
He
was
thinking
of
love
and
absurdities
that
had
checkered
his
own
past
,
and
was
regretting
a
downy
doll
.
He
was
won
over
,
besides
by
Tarr’s
plaidoirie
,
as
he
always
was
.
His
friend
could
have
convinced
him
of
anything
on
earth
within
ten
minutes
.
Tarr
,
noticing
the
effect
of
his
words
,
laughed
.
Butcher
was
like
a
dog
,
with
his
rheumy
eyes
.
“
My
romance
,
you
see
,
is
exactly
inverse
to
yours
,
”
Tarr
proceeded
.
“
But
pure
unadulterated
romanticism
with
me
is
in
about
the
same
rudimentary
state
as
sex
.
So
they
had
perhaps
better
keep
together
?
I
only
allow
myself
to
philander
with
little
things
.
I
have
succeeded
in
shunting
our
noxious
illusionism
away
from
the
great
spaces
and
ambitions
.
I
have
billeted
it
with
a
bourgeoise
in
a
villa
.
These
things
are
all
arranged
above
our
heads
.
They
are
no
doubt
self-protective
.
The
whole
of
a
man’s
ninety-nine
per
cent
,
of
obscurer
mechanism
is
daily
engaged
in
organizing
his
life
in
accordance
with
his
deepest
necessity
.
Each
person
boasts
some
notable
invention
of
personal
application
only
.
“
So
there
I
am
fixed
with
my
bourgeoise
in
my
skin
,
dans
ma
peau
.
What
is
the
next
step
?
—
The
body
is
the
main
thing
.
—
But
I
think
I
have
made
a
discovery
.
In
sex
I
am
romantic
and
arriéré
.
It
would
be
healthier
for
all
sex
to
be
so
.
But
that
is
another
matter
.
Well
,
I
cannot
see
myself
attracted
by
an
exceptional
woman
—
‘
spiritual
’
woman
—
‘
noble
soul
,
’
or
even
a
particularly
refined
and
witty
animal
.
—
I
do
not
understand
attraction
for
such
beings
.
—
Their
existence
appears
to
me
quite
natural
and
proper
,
but
,
not
being
as
fine
as
men
;
not
being
as
fine
as
pictures
or
poems
;
not
being
as
fine
as
housewives
or
classical
Mothers
of
Men
;
they
appear
to
me
to
occupy
an
unfortunate
position
on
this
earth
.
No
man
properly
demarcated
as
I
am
will
have
much
to
do
with
them
.
They
are
very
beautiful
to
look
at
.
But
they
are
unfortunately
alive
,
and
usually
cats
.
If
you
married
one
of
them
,
out
of
pity
,
you
would
have
to
support
the
eternal
grin
of
a
Gioconda
fixed
complacently
on
you
at
all
hours
of
the
day
,
the
pretensions
of
a
piece
of
canvas
that
had
sold
for
thirty
thousand
pounds
.
You
could
not
put
your
foot
through
the
canvas
without
being
hanged
.
You
would
not
be
able
to
sell
it
yourself
for
that
figure
,
and
so
get
some
little
compensation
.
Tout
au
plus
,
if
the
sentimental
grin
would
not
otherwise
come
off
,
you
could
break
its
jaw
,
perhaps
.
”
Butcher
flung
his
head
up
,
and
laughed
affectedly
.
“
Ha
ha
!
”
—
he
went
again
.
“
Very
good
!
—
Very
good
!
—
I
know
who
you’re
thinking
of
,
”
he
said
.
“
Do
you
?
Oh
,
the
‘
Gioconda
smile
,
’
you
mean
?
—
Yes
.
—
In
that
instance
,
the
man
had
only
his
silly
sentimental
self
to
blame
.
He
has
paid
the
biggest
price
given
in
our
time
for
a
living
masterpiece
.
Sentimentalizing
about
masterpieces
and
sentimental
prices
will
soon
have
seen
their
day
,
I
expect
.
New
masterpieces
in
painting
will
then
appear
again
,
perhaps
,
where
the
live
ones
leagued
with
the
old
dead
ones
disappear
.
—
Really
,
the
more
one
considers
it
,
the
more
creditable
and
excellent
my
self-organization
appears
.
I
have
a
great
deal
to
congratulate
myself
upon
.
”
Butcher
blinked
and
pulled
himself
together
with
a
grave
dissatisfied
expression
.
“
But
will
you
carry
it
into
effect
to
the
extent
?
—
Will
you
?
—
Would
marriage
be
the
ideal
termination
?
”
—
Butcher
had
a
way
of
tearing
up
and
beginning
all
over
again
on
a
new
breath
.
“
That
is
what
Hobson
asked
.
—
No
,
I
don’t
think
marriage
has
anything
to
do
with
it
.
That
is
another
question
altogether
.
”
“
I
thought
your
remarks
about
the
housewife
suggested
—
—
”
“
No.
—
My
relation
to
the
idea
of
the
housewife
Is
platonic
.
I
am
attracted
to
the
housewife
as
I
might
be
attracted
to
the
milliner
.
But
just
as
I
should
not
necessarily
employ
the
latter
to
make
hats
—
I
should
have
some
other
use
for
her
—
so
my
connexion
with
the
other
need
not
imply
a
manage
.
But
my
present
difficulty
centres
round
that
question
:
“
What
am
I
to
do
with
Fräulein
Lunken
?
”
Butcher
drew
himself
up
,
and
hiccuped
solemnly
and
slowly
.
He
did
not
reply
.
“
Once
again
,
is
marriage
out
of
the
question
?
”
Tarr
asked
.
“
You
know
yourself
best
.
I
don’t
think
you
ought
to
marry
.
”
“
Why
,
am
I
—
?
”
“
No.
You
wouldn’t
stop
with
her
.
So
why
marry
?
”
He
hiccuped
again
,
and
blinked
.
Tarr
gazed
at
his
oracle
with
curiosity
.
—
With
eyes
glassily
bloodshot
,
it
discharged
its
wisdom
on
gusts
of
air
.
Butcher
was
always
surly
about
women
,
or
rather
men’s
tenderness
for
them
.
He
was
a
vindictive
enemy
of
the
sex
.
He
stood
,
a
patient
constable
,
forbidding
Tarr
respectfully
a
certain
road
.
He
spoke
with
authority
and
shortness
,
and
hiccuped
to
convey
the
absolute
and
assured
quality
of
his
refusal
.
“
Well
,
in
that
case
,
”
Tarr
said
,
“
I
must
make
a
move
.
I
have
treated
Bertha
very
badly
.
”
Butcher
smothered
a
hiccup
.
—
He
ordered
another
drink
.
“
Yes
,
I
owe
my
girl
anything
I
can
give
her
.
It
is
hardly
my
fault
.
With
the
training
you
get
in
England
,
how
can
you
be
expected
to
realize
anything
?
The
University
of
Humour
that
prevails
everywhere
in
England
as
the
national
institution
for
developing
youth
,
provides
you
with
nothing
but
a
first-rate
means
of
evading
reality
.
The
whole
of
English
training
—
the
great
fundamental
spirit
of
the
country
—
is
a
system
of
deadening
feeling
,
a
prescription
for
Stoicism
.
Many
of
the
results
are
excellent
.
It
saves
us
from
gush
in
many
cases
;
it
is
an
excellent
armour
in
times
of
crisis
or
misfortune
.
The
English
soldier
gets
his
special
cachet
from
it
.
But
for
the
sake
of
this
wonderful
panacea
—
English
humour
—
we
sacrifice
much
.
It
would
be
better
to
face
our
Imagination
and
our
nerves
without
this
soporific
.
Once
this
armature
breaks
down
,
the
man
underneath
is
found
in
many
cases
to
have
become
softened
by
it
.
He
is
subject
to
shock
,
oversensitiveness
,
and
many
ailments
not
met
with
in
the
more
frank
and
direct
races
.
Their
superficial
sensitiveness
allows
of
a
harder
core
.
—
To
set
against
this
,
of
course
,
you
have
the
immense
reserves
of
delicacy
,
touchiness
,
sympathy
,
that
this
envelope
of
cynicism
has
accumulated
.
It
has
served
English
art
marvellously
.
But
it
is
probably
more
useful
for
art
than
for
practical
affairs
.
And
the
artist
could
always
look
after
himself
.
Anyhow
,
the
time
seems
to
have
arrived
in
my
life
,
as
I
consider
it
has
arrived
in
the
life
of
the
country
,
to
discard
this
husk
and
armour
.
Life
must
be
met
on
other
terms
than
those
of
fun
and
sport
.
”
Butcher
guffawed
provocatively
.
Tarr
joined
him
.
They
both
quaffed
their
beer
.
“
You’re
a
terrible
fellow
,
”
said
Butcher
.
“
If
you
had
your
way
,
you’d
leave
us
stark
naked
.
We
should
all
be
standing
on
our
little
island
in
the
savage
state
of
the
Ancient
Britons
—
figuratively
.
”
He
hiccuped
.
“
Yes
,
figuratively
.
But
in
reality
the
country
would
be
armed
better
than
it
ever
had
been
before
.
And
by
the
sacrifice
of
these
famous
‘
national
characteristics
’
we
cling
to
sentimentally
,
and
which
are
merely
the
accident
of
a
time
,
we
should
lay
a
soil
and
foundation
of
unspecific
force
,
on
which
new
and
realler
‘
national
flavours
’
would
very
soon
sprout
.
”
“
I
quite
agree
,
”
Butcher
jerked
out
energetically
.
He
ordered
another
lager
.
“
I
agree
with
what
you
say
.
If
we
don’t
give
up
dreaming
,
we
shall
get
spanked
.
I
have
given
up
my
gypsies
.
That
was
very
public-spirited
of
me
?
”
He
looked
coaxingly
.
“
If
every
one
would
give
up
their
gypsies
,
their
jokes
,
and
their
gentlemen
—
‘
Gentlemen
’
are
worse
than
gypsies
.
It
would
do
perhaps
if
they
reduced
them
considerably
,
as
you
have
your
Gitanos
.
—
I’m
going
to
swear
off
humour
for
a
year
.
I
am
going
to
gaze
on
even
you
inhumanly
.
All
my
mock
matrimonial
difficulties
come
from
humour
.
I
am
going
to
gaze
on
Bertha
inhumanly
,
and
not
humorously
.
Humour
paralyses
the
sense
for
reality
and
wraps
people
in
a
phlegmatic
and
hysterical
dreamworld
,
full
of
the
delicious
swirls
of
the
switchback
,
the
drunkenness
of
the
merry-go-round
—
screaming
leaps
from
idea
to
idea
.
My
little
weapon
for
bringing
my
man
to
earth
—
shot-gun
or
what
not
—
gave
me
good
sport
,
too
,
and
was
of
the
best
workmanship
.
I
carried
it
slung
jauntily
for
some
time
at
my
side
—
you
may
have
noticed
it
.
But
I
am
in
the
tedious
position
of
the
man
who
hits
the
bull’s-eye
every
time
.
Had
I
not
been
disproportionately
occupied
with
her
absurdities
,
I
should
not
have
allowed
this
charming
girl
to
engage
herself
to
me
.
“
My
first
practical
step
now
will
be
to
take
this
question
of
‘
engaging
’
myself
or
not
into
my
own
hands
.
I
shall
disengage
myself
on
the
spot
.
”
“
So
long
as
you
don’t
engage
yourself
again
next
minute
,
and
so
on
.
If
I
felt
that
the
time
was
not
quite
ripe
,
I’d
leave
it
in
Fräulein
Lunken’s
hands
a
little
longer
.
I
expect
she
does
it
better
than
you
would
.
”
Butcher
filled
his
pipe
,
then
he
began
laughing
.
He
laughed
theatrically
until
Tarr
stopped
him
.
“
What
are
you
laughing
at
?
”
“
You
are
a
nut
!
Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
”
“
How
am
I
a
nut
?
You
must
be
thinking
about
your
old
machine
out
there
.
”
Butcher
composed
himself
—
theatrically
.
“
I
was
laughing
at
you
.
You
repent
of
your
thoughtlessness
,
and
all
that
.
Your
next
step
is
to
put
it
right
.
I
was
laughing
at
the
way
you
go
about
it
.
You
now
proceed
kindly
but
firmly
to
break
off
your
engagement
and
discard
the
girl
.
That
is
very
neat
.
”
“
Do
you
think
so
?
Well
,
perhaps
it
is
a
trifle
over-tidy
.
I
hadn’t
looked
at
it
in
that
way
.
”
“
You
can’t
be
too
tidy
,
”
Butcher
said
dogmatically
.
He
talked
to
Tarr
,
when
a
little
worked
up
,
as
Tarr
talked
to
him
.
He
didn’t
notice
that
he
did
.
It
was
partly
calinerie
and
flattery
.
Tarr
pulled
out
a
very
heavy
and
determined-looking
watch
.
He
would
have
suffered
had
he
been
compelled
to
use
a
small
watch
.
For
the
time
to
be
microscopic
and
noiseless
would
be
unbearable
.
The
time
must
be
human
.
That
he
insisted
on
.
And
it
must
not
be
pretty
or
neat
.
“
It
is
late
.
I
must
go
.
Must
you
get
back
to
Passy
or
can
you
stop
?
”
“
Do
you
know
,
I’m
afraid
I
must
get
back
.
I
have
to
lunch
with
a
fellow
at
one
,
who
is
putting
me
on
to
a
good
thing
.
But
can
I
take
you
anywhere
?
Or
are
you
lunching
here
?
”
“
No.
—
Take
me
as
far
as
the
Samaritaine
,
will
you
?
”
Butcher
took
him
along
two
sides
of
the
Louvre
,
to
the
river
.
“
Good-bye
,
then
.
Don’t
forget
Saturday
,
six
o’clock
.
”
Butcher
nodded
in
bright
,
clever
silence
.
He
shuffled
into
his
car
again
,
working
his
shoulders
like
a
verminous
tramp
.
He
rushed
away
,
piercing
blasts
from
his
horn
rapidly
softening
as
he
became
smaller
.
Tarr
was
glad
he
had
brought
the
car
and
Butcher
together
.
They
were
opposites
with
some
grave
essential
in
common
.
His
usual
lunch
time
an
hour
away
,
his
so
far
unrevised
programme
was
to
go
to
the
Rue
Lhomond
and
search
for
Hobson’s
studio
.
For
the
length
of
a
street
it
was
equally
the
road
to
the
studio
and
to
Bertha’s
rooms
.
He
knew
to
which
he
was
going
.
But
a
sensation
of
peculiar
freedom
and
leisure
possessed
him
.
There
was
no
hurry
.
Was
there
any
hurry
to
go
where
he
was
going
?
With
a
smile
in
his
mind
,
his
face
irresponsible
and
solemn
,
he
turned
sharply
into
a
narrow
street
,
rendered
dangerous
by
motor-buses
,
and
asked
at
a
loge
if
Monsieur
Lowndes
were
in
.
“
Monsieur
Lounes
?
Je
pense
que
oui
.
Je
ne
l’ai
pas
vu
sortir
.
”
He
ascended
to
the
fourth
floor
and
rang
a
bell
.
Lowndes
was
in
.
He
heard
him
coming
on
tiptoe
to
.the
door
,
and
felt
him
gazing
at
him
through
an
invisible
crack
.
He
placed
himself
in
a
favourable
position
.
CHAPTER
III
Tarr’s
idea
of
leisure
recognized
no
departure
from
the
tragic
theme
of
existence
.
Pleasure
could
take
no
form
that
did
not
include
Death
and
corruption
—
at
present
Bertha
and
humour
.
Only
he
wished
to
play
a
little
longer
.
It
was
the
last
chance
he
might
have
.
Work
was
in
front
of
him
with
Bertha
.
He
was
giving
up
play
.
But
the
giving
up
of
play
,
even
,
had
to
take
the
form
of
play
.
He
had
seen
in
terms
of
sport
so
long
that
he
had
no
other
machinery
to
work
with
.
Sport
might
perhaps
,
for
the
fun
of
the
thing
,
be
induced
to
cast
out
sport
.
As
Lowndes
crept
towards
the
door
,
Tarr
said
to
himself
,
with
ironic
self-restraint
,
“
Bloody
fool
,
bloody
fool
!
”
Lowndes
was
a
brother
artist
,
who
was
not
very
active
,
but
had
just
enough
money
to
be
a
Cubist
.
He
was
extremely
proud
of
being
interrupted
in
his
work
.
His
“
work
”
was
a
serious
matter
.
He
found
“
great
difficulty
”
in
working
.
He
always
implied
that
you
did
not
.
He
had
a
form
of
persecution
mania
as
regards
his
“
mornings
.
”
From
his
discourse
you
gathered
that
he
was
,
first
of
all
,
very
much
sought
after
.
People
,
seemingly
,
were
always
attempting
to
get
into
his
room
.
You
imagined
an
immense
queue
of
unwelcome
visitors
(
how
or
why
he
had
gathered
or
originally
,
it
was
to
be
supposed
,
encouraged
,
such
,
you
did
not
inquire
)
.
You
never
saw
this
queue
.
The
only
person
you
definitely
knew
had
been
guilty
of
interrupting
his
“
work
”
was
Thornton
.
This
man
,
because
of
his
admiration
for
Lowndes’
intelligence
and
moth-like
attraction
for
his
Cubism
,
and
respect
for
his
small
income
,
had
to
suffer
much
humiliation
.
He
was
to
be
found
(
even
in
the
morning
,
strange
to
say
)
in
Lowndes’
studio
,
rapidly
sucking
a
pipe
,
blinking
,
flushing
,
stammering
with
second-rate
Public
School
mannerisms
,
retailing
scandal
and
sensational
news
,
which
he
had
acquired
from
a
woman
who
had
sat
next
him
at
the
invariable
dinner-party
of
the
night
before
.
When
you
entered
,
he
looked
timidly
and
quickly
at
the
inexorable
Lowndes
,
and
began
gathering
up
his
hat
and
books
.
Lowndes’
manner
became
withering
.
You
felt
that
before
your
arrival
,
his
master
had
been
less
severe
;
that
life
might
have
been
almost
bearable
for
Thornton
.
When
he
at
last
had
taken
himself
off
,
Lowndes
would
hasten
to
exculpate
himself
.
“
Thornton
was
a
fool
,
but
he
could
not
always
keep
Thornton
out
,
”
etc.
Lowndes
,
with
his
Thornton
,
displayed
the
characteristics
of
the
selfmade
man
.
He
had
risen
ambitiously
in
the
sphere
of
the
Intelligence
.
Thornton
sat
like
an
inhabitant
of
the
nether
world
of
gossip
,
pettiness
,
and
squalor
from
which
his
friend
had
lately
issued
.
He
entertained
an
immense
respect
for
that
friend
.
This
one
of
his
own
kind
in
a
position
of
respect
and
security
was
what
he
could
best
understand
,
and
would
have
most
desired
to
be
.
“
Oh
!
Come
in
,
Tarr
,
”
Lowndes
said
,
looking
at
the
floor
of
the
passage
,
“
I
didn’t
know
who
it
was
.
”
The
atmosphere
became
thick
with
ghostlike
intruders
.
The
wretched
Thornton
seemed
to
hover
timidly
in
the
background
.
“
Am
I
interrupting
you
?
”
Tarr
asked
politely
.
“
No-o-o
!
”
a
long
,
reassuring
,
musical
negative
.
His
face
was
very
dark
and
slick
,
bald
on
top
,
pettily
bearded
,
rather
unnecessarily
handsome
.
Tarr
always
felt
a
tinge
of
indecency
in
his
good
looks
.
His
Celtic
head
was
allied
to
a
stocky
commercial
figure
.
Behind
his
spectacles
his
black
eyes
had
a
way
of
scouring
and
scurrying
over
the
floor
.
They
were
often
dreamy
and
burning
.
He
waddled
slightly
,
or
rather
confided
himself
first
to
one
muscular
little
calf
,
then
to
the
other
.
Tarr
had
come
to
talk
to
him
about
Bertha
.
“
I’m
afraid
I
must
have
interrupted
your
work
?
”
Tarr
said
with
mock
ceremony
.
“
No
,
it’s
all
right
.
I
was
just
going
to
have
a
rest
.
I’m
rather
off
colour
.
”
Tarr
misunderstood
him
.
“
Off
colour
?
What
is
the
matter
with
colour
now
?
”
“
No
,
I
mean
I’m
seedy
.
”
“
Oh
,
ah
.
Yes
.
”
His
eyes
still
fixed
on
the
ground
,
Lowndes
pottered
about
,
like
a
dog
.
As
with
most
educated
people
who
“
do
”
anything
,
and
foresee
analysis
and
fame
,
he
was
biographically
minded
.
A
poor
man
,
he
did
his
Boswell-ing
himself
.
His
self-characterization
,
proceeding
whenever
he
was
not
alone
,
was
as
follows
:
“
A
fussy
and
exacting
man
,
slightly
avuncular
,
strangely
,
despite
the
fineness
and
amplitude
of
his
character
,
minute
,
precious
,
and
tidy
.
”
(
In
this
way
he
made
a
virtue
of
his
fuss
.
)
To
show
how
the
general
illusion
worked
in
a
particular
case
:
“
He
had
been
disturbed
in
his
‘
work
’
by
Tarr
,
or
had
just
emerged
from
that
state
of
wonderful
concentration
he
called
‘
work.’
He
could
not
at
once
bend
himself
to
more
general
things
.
His
nerves
drove
him
from
object
to
object
.
But
he
would
soon
be
quiet
.
”
Tarr
looked
on
with
an
ugly
patience
.
“
Lowndes
,
I
have
come
to
ask
you
for
a
little
piece
of
advice
.
”
Lowndes
was
flattered
and
relished
the
mystery
.
“
Ye-es
,
”
he
said
,
smiling
,
in
a
slow
,
‘
sober
,
’
professional
sing-song
.
“
Or
rather
,
for
an
opinion
.
What
is
your
opinion
of
German
women
?
”
Lowndes
had
spent
two
years
in
Berlin
and
Munich
.
Many
of
his
friends
were
Austrian
.
“
German
women
?
But
I
must
know
first
why
you
ask
me
that
question
.
You
see
,
it’s
a
wide
subject
.
”
“
A
wide
subject
—
wide
.
Yes
,
very
good
!
Ha
ha
!
—
Well
,
it
is
like
this
.
I
think
that
they
are
superior
to
Englishwomen
.
That
is
a
very
dangerous
opinion
to
hold
,
as
there
are
so
many
German
women
knocking
about
just
now
.
—
I
want
to
rid
myself
of
it
.
—
Can
you
help
me
?
”
Lowndes
mused
on
the
ground
.
Then
he
looked
up
brightly
.
“
No
,
I
can’t
.
Because
I
share
it
!
”
“
Lowndes
,
I’m
surprised
at
you
.
I
never
thought
you
were
that
sort
of
man
!
”
“
How
do
you
mean
?
”
“
Perhaps
you
can
help
me
nevertheless
.
Our
ideas
on
females
may
not
be
the
same
.
”
Tarr
always
embarrassed
him
.
Lowndes
huddled
himself
tensely
together
,
worked
at
his
pipe
,
and
met
Tarr’s
jokes
painfully
.
He
hesitated
to
sally
forth
and
drive
the
joke
away
.
“
What
are
your
ideas
on
females
?
”
he
asked
in
a
moment
.
“
Oh
,
I
think
they
ought
to
be
convex
if
you
are
concave
—
stupid
if
you
are
intelligent
,
cold
if
you
are
cold
,
frigid
if
you
are
volcanic
.
Always
white
all
over
,
clothes
,
underclothes
,
skin
and
all
.
—
My
ideas
do
not
extend
much
beyond
that
.
”
Lowndes
organized
Tarr’s
statement
,
with
a
view
to
an
adequate
and
light
reply
.
He
gnawed
at
his
pipe
.
“
Well
,
German
women
are
usually
convex
.
There
are
also
concave
ones
.
There
are
cold
ones
and
hot
ones
.
”
He
looked
up
.
“
It
all
seems
to
depend
what
you
are
like
!
”
“
I
am
cold
;
inclined
to
be
fat
;
forte
tete
;
and
swarthy
,
as
you
see
.
”
“
In
that
case
,
if
you
took
plenty
of
exercise
,
”
Lowndes
undulated
himself
as
though
for
the
passage
of
the
large
bubbles
of
chuckle
,
“
I
should
think
that
German
women
would
suit
you
very
well
!
”
Tarr
rose
.
“
I
wish
I
hadn’t
come
to
see
you
,
Lowndes
.
Your
answer
is
disappointing
.
”
Lowndes
got
up
,
disturbed
at
Tarr’s
sign
of
departure
.
“
I’m
sorry
.
But
I’m
not
an
authority
.
”
He
leant
against
the
fireplace
to
arrest
Tarr’s
withdrawal
for
a
minute
or
two
.
“
Are
you
doing
much
work
?
”
“
I
?
No.
”
“
Are
you
ever
in
in
the
afternoons
?
I
should
like
to
come
round
some
day
—
—
”
“
I’m
just
moving
into
a
new
studio
.
”
Lowndes
looked
suddenly
at
his
watch
,
with
calculated
,
ape-like
impulsiveness
.
“
Where
are
you
having
lunch
?
I
thought
of
going
down
to
Lejeune’s
to
see
if
I
could
come
across
a
beggar
of
the
name
of
Kreisler
.
He
could
tell
you
much
more
about
German
women
than
I
can
.
He’s
a
German
.
Come
along
,
won’t
you
?
Are
you
doing
anything
?
”
“
No
,
I
know
quite
enough
Germans
.
Besides
,
I
must
go
somewhere
—
I
can’t
have
lunch
just
yet
.
Good-bye
.
Thank
you
for
your
opinion
.
”
“
Don’t
mention
it
,
”
Lowndes
said
softly
,
his
head
turned
obliquely
to
his
shoulder
,
as
though
he
had
a
stiff
neck
,
and
balancing
on
his
calves
.
He
was
rather
wounded
,
or
brusque
,
by
the
brevity
of
Tarr’s
visit
.
His
“
morning
”
had
not
received
enough
respect
.
It
had
been
treated
,
in
fact
,
cavalierly
.
His
“
work
”
had
not
been
directly
mentioned
.
When
Tarr
got
outside
,
he
stood
on
the
narrow
pavement
,
looking
into
a
shop
window
.
It
was
a
florist’s
and
contained
a
great
variety
of
flowers
.
He
was
surprised
to
find
that
he
did
not
know
a
single
flower
by
name
.
He
hung
on
in
front
of
this
shop
before
pushing
off
,
as
a
swimmer
does
to
a
rock
,
waving
his
legs
.
Then
he
got
back
into
the
street
from
which
his
visit
to
Lowndes
had
deflected
him
.
He
let
himself
drift
down
it
.
He
still
had
some
way
to
go
before
he
need
decide
between
the
Rue
Martine
(
where
Bertha
lived
)
and
the
Rue
Lhomond
.
He
had
not
found
resolution
in
his
talks
.
That
already
existed
,
the
fruit
of
various
other
conversations
on
his
matrimonial
position
—
held
with
the
victim
,
Fraulein
Lunken
,
herself
.
Not
to
go
near
Bertha
was
the
negative
programme
for
that
particular
day
.
To
keep
away
was
seldom
easy
.
But
ever
since
his
conversation
at
the
Berne
he
had
been
conscious
of
the
absurd
easiness
of
doing
so
,
if
he
wished
.
He
had
not
the
least
inclination
to
go
to
the
Rue
Martine
!
—
This
sensation
was
so
grateful
that
its
object
shared
in
its
effect
.
He
determined
to
go
and
see
her
.
He
wanted
to
enjoy
his
present
feeling
of
indifference
.
Where
best
to
enjoy
it
was
no
doubt
where
she
was
.
As
to
the
studio
,
he
hesitated
.
A
new
situation
was
created
by
this
new
feeling
of
indifference
.
Its
duration
could
not
be
gauged
.
—
He
wished
to
stay
in
Paris
just
then
to
finish
some
paintings
begun
some
months
before
.
He
substituted
for
the
Impressionist’s
necessity
to
remain
in
front
of
the
object
being
represented
,
a
sensation
of
the
desirability
of
finishing
a
canvas
in
the
place
where
it
was
begun
.
He
had
an
Impressionist’s
horror
of
change
.
So
Tarr
had
evolved
a
plan
.
At
first
sight
it
was
wicked
.
It
was
no
blacker
than
most
of
his
ingenuities
.
Bertha
,
as
he
had
suggested
to
Butcher
,
he
had
in
some
lymphatic
way
,
dans
la
peau
.
It
appeared
a
matter
of
physical
discomfort
to
leave
her
altogether
.
It
must
be
done
gradually
.
So
he
had
thought
that
,
instead
of
going
away
to
England-where
the
separation
might
cause
him
restlessness
,
he
had
perhaps
better
settle
down
in
her
neighbour
,
hood
.
Through
a
series
of
specially
tended
ennuis
,
he
would
soon
find
himself
in
a
position
to
depart
.
So
the
extreme
nearness
of
the
studio
to
Bertha’s
flat
was
only
another
inducement
for
him
to
take
it
.
“
If
it
were
next
door
,
so
much
the
better
!
”
he
thought
.
Now
for
this
famous
feeling
of
indifference
.
Was
there
anything
in
it
?
—
The
studio
for
the
moment
should
be
put
aside
.
He
would
go
to
see
Bertha
.
Let
this
visit
solve
this
question
.
CHAPTER
IV
The
new
summer
heat
drew
heavy
pleasant
ghosts
out
of
the
ground
,
like
plants
disappeared
in
winter
;
spectres
of
energy
,
bulking
the
hot
air
with
vigorous
dreams
.
Or
they
had
entered
into
the
trees
,
in
imitation
of
Pagan
gods
,
and
nodded
their
delicate
distant
intoxication
to
him
.
Visions
were
released
in
the
sap
,
with
scented
explosion
,
the
spring
one
bustling
and
tremendous
reminiscence
.
Tarr
felt
the
street
was
a
pleasant
current
,
setting
from
some
immense
and
tropic
gulf
,
neighboured
by
Floridas
of
remote
invasions
.
He
ambled
down
it
puissantly
,
shoulders
shaped
like
these
waves
;
a
heavy-sided
drunken
fish
.
The
houses
,
with
winks
of
the
shocked
clockwork
,
were
grazed
,
holding
along
their
surface
thick
soft
warmth
.
It
poured
weakly
into
his
veins
.
A
big
dog
wandering
on
its
easily
transposable
business
,
inviting
some
delightful
accident
to
deflect
it
from
maudlin
and
massive
promenade
.
In
his
mind
,
too
,
as
in
the
dog’s
,
his
business
was
doubtful
—
a
small
black
spot
ahead
in
his
brain
,
half
puzzling
but
peremptory
.
The
mat
heavy
light
grey
of
putty-coloured
houses
,
like
thickening
merely
of
hot
summer
atmosphere
without
sun
,
gave
a
spirituality
to
this
deluge
of
animal
well-being
,
in
weighty
pale
sense-solidarity
.
Through
the
opaquer
atmosphere
sounds
came
lazily
or
tinglingly
.
People
had
become
a
Balzacian
species
,
boldly
tragic
and
comic
:
like
a
cast
of
“
Comédie
Humaine
”
humanity
off
for
the
day
,
Balzac
sleeping
immensely
in
the
cemetery
.
Tarr
stopped
at
a
dairy
.
He
bought
saladed
potatoes
,
a
petit
suisse
.
The
coolness
,
as
he
entered
,
felt
eerie
.
The
dairyman
,
in
blue-striped
smock
and
black
cap
,
peaked
and
cylindrical
,
came
out
of
an
inner
room
.
Through
its
glasses
several
women
were
visible
,
busy
at
a
meal
.
This
man’s
isolation
from
the
heat
and
mood
of
the
world
outside
,
impressed
his
customer
as
he
came
forward
with
a
truculent
“
Monsieur
!
”
Tarr
,
while
his
things
were
done
up
,
watched
the
women
.
The
discreet
voices
,
severe
reserve
of
keen
business
preoccupations
,
showed
the
usual
Paris
commerçante
.
The
white
,
black
,
and
slate-grey
of
dresses
,
extreme
neatness
,
silent
felt
over-slippers
,
make
their
commercial
devotions
rather
conventual
.
With
this
purchase
—
followed
by
one
of
strawberries
at
a
fruiterer’s
opposite
—
his
destination
was
no
longer
doubtful
.
He
was
going
to
Bertha’s
to
eat
his
lunch
.
Hence
the
double
quantity
of
saladed
potatoes
.
He
skirted
the
railings
of
the
Luxembourg
Gardens
for
fifteen
yards
.
Crossing
the
road
,
he
entered
the
Rue
Martine
,
a
bald
expanse
of
uniformly
coloured
rosy-grey
pavement
,
plaster
,
and
shutter
.
A
large
iron
gate
led
into
a
short
avenue
of
trees
.
At
its
end
Bertha
lived
in
a
three-story
house
.
The
leaden
brilliant
green
of
spring
foliage
hung
above
him
,
ticketing
innumerably
the
trees
,
sultry
smoke
volumes
from
factories
in
Fairyland
.
Its
novelty
,
fresh
yet
dead
,
had
the
effectiveness
of
an
unnecessary
mirage
.
The
charm
of
habit
and
monotony
he
had
come
to
affront
seemed
to
have
coloured
,
chemically
,
these
approaches
to
its
home
.
He
found
Bertha’s
eye
fixed
on
him
with
a
sort
of
humorous
indifferent
query
from
the
window
.
He
smiled
,
thinking
what
would
be
the
veritable
answer
!
On
finding
himself
in
the
presence
of
the
object
of
his
erudite
discussion
,
he
felt
he
had
got
the
focus
wrong
.
This
familiar
life
,
with
its
ironical
eye
,
mocked
at
him
too
.
It
was
aware
of
the
subject
of
his
late
conversation
.
The
twin
of
the
shrewd
feeling
embodied
in
the
observation
,
“
One
can
never
escape
from
oneself
,
”
appeared
.
This
ironical
unsurprised
eye
at
the
window
,
so
vaguely
apropos
,
offended
him
.
It
seemed
to
be
making
fun
of
the
swaggering
indifference
he
was
bringing
to
bask
in
the
presence
of
its
object
.
He
became
slightly
truculent
.
“
Have
you
had
lunch
yet
,
my
dear
?
”
he
asked
,
as
she
opened
the
door
to
him
.
“
I’ve
brought
you
some
strawberries
.
”
“
I
didn’t
expect
you
,
Sorbet
.
No
,
I’ve
not
had
lunch
.
I
was
just
going
to
get
it
.
”
(
Sorbet
,
or
in
English
,
Sherbert
,
was
his
nom
d’amour
,
a
perversion
of
his
name
,
Sorbert
)
.
Bertha’s
was
the
intellectually
fostered
Greek
type
of
German
handsomeness
.
It
is
that
beauty
that
makes
you
wonder
,
when
you
meet
it
,
if
German
mothers
have
replicas
and
photographs
of
the
Venus
of
Milo
in
their
rooms
during
the
first
three
months
of
their
pregnancy
.
It
is
also
found
in
the
pages
of
Prussian
art
periodicals
,
the
arid
,
empty
intellectualism
of
Munich
.
She
had
been
a
heavy
baby
.
Her
body
now
,
a
self-indulgent
athlete’s
,
was
strung
to
heavy
motherhood
.
A
great
believer
in
tepid
“
air-baths
,
”
she
would
remain
,
for
hours
together
,
in
a
state
of
nudity
about
her
rooms
.
She
was
wearing
a
pale
green
striped
affair
,
tight
at
the
waist
.
It
looked
as
though
meant
for
a
smaller
woman
.
It
may
have
belonged
to
her
sister
.
As
a
result
,
her
ample
form
had
left
the
fullness
of
a
score
of
attitudes
all
over
it
,
in
flat
creasings
and
pencillings
—
like
the
sanguine
of
an
Italian
master
in
which
the
leg
is
drawn
in
several
positions
,
one
on
top
of
the
other
.
“
What
have
you
come
for
,
Sorbet
?
”
“
To
see
you
.
What
did
you
suppose
?
”
“
Oh
,
you
have
come
to
see
me
?
”
“
I
brought
these
things
.
I
thought
you
might
be
hungry
.
”
“
Yes
,
I
am
rather
.
”
She
stopped
in
the
passage
,
Dryad-like
on
one
foot
,
and
stared
into
the
kitchen
.
Tarr
did
not
kiss
her
.
He
put
his
hand
on
her
hip
—
a
way
out
of
it
—
and
led
her
into
the
room
.
His
hand
remarked
that
she
was
underneath
in
her
favourite
state
of
nakedness
.
Bertha
went
into
the
kitchen
with
the
provisions
.
She
lived
in
two
rooms
on
one
side
of
the
front
door
.
Her
friend
,
Fraulein
Goenthner
,
to
whom
she
sub-let
,
lived
on
the
other
side
of
it
,
the
kitchen
promiscuously
existing
between
,
and
immediately
facing
the
entrance
.
Tarr
was
in
the
studio
or
salon
.
It
was
a
complete
bourgeois-bohemian
interior
.
Green
silk
cloth
and
cushions
of
various
vegetable
and
mineral
shades
covered
everything
,
in
mildewy
blight
.
The
cold
,
repulsive
shades
of
Islands
of
the
Dead
,
gigantic
cypresses
,
grottos
of
Teutonic
nymphs
,
had
invaded
this
dwelling
.
Purple
metal
and
leather
steadily
dispensed
with
expensive
objects
.
There
was
the
plaster
cast
of
Beethoven
(
some
people
who
have
frequented
artistic
circles
get
to
dislike
this
face
extremely
)
,
brass
jars
from
Normandy
,
a
photograph
of
Mona
Lisa
(
Tarr
hated
the
Mona
Lisa
)
.
A
table
just
by
the
window
,
laid
with
a
white
cloth
,
square
embroidered
holes
at
its
edges
,
was
where
Tarr
at
once
took
up
his
position
.
Truculence
was
denoted
by
his
thus
going
straight
to
his
eatingplace
.
Installed
in
the
midst
of
this
ridiculous
life
,
he
gave
a
hasty
glance
at
his
“
indifference
”
to
see
whether
it
were
safe
and
sound
.
Seen
through
it
,
on
opening
the
door
,
Bertha
had
appeared
unusual
.
This
impressed
him
disagreeably
.
Had
his
rich
and
calm
feeling
of
bounty
towards
her
survived
the
encounter
,
his
“
indifference
”
might
also
have
remained
intact
.
He
engrossed
himself
in
his
sense
of
physical
well
being
.
From
his
pocket
he
produced
a
tin
box
containing
tobacco
,
papers
,
and
a
little
steel
machine
for
rolling
cigarettes
given
him
by
Bertha
.
A
long
slim
hinged
shell
,
it
nipped
in
a
little
cartridge
of
tobacco
,
which
it
then
slipped
with
inside
a
paper
tube
,
and
slipping
out
again
empty
,
the
cigarette
was
made
.
Tarr
began
manufacturing
cigarettes
.
Reflections
from
the
shining
metal
in
his
hand
scurried
about
amongst
the
bilious
bric-a-brac
.
Like
a
layer
of
water
lying
on
one
of
oil
,
the
light
heated
stretch
by
the
windows
appeared
distinct
from
the
shadowed
part
of
the
room
.
This
place
was
cheap
and
dead
,
but
rich
with
the
same
lifelessness
as
the
trees
without
.
These
looked
extremely
near
and
familiar
at
the
opened
windows
,
breathing
the
same
air
continually
as
Bertha
.
But
they
were
dusty
,
rough
,
and
real
.
Bertha
came
in
from
the
kitchen
.
She
went
on
with
a
trivial
rearrangement
of
her
writing-table
.
This
had
been
her
occupation
as
he
appeared
at
the
gate
beneath
,
drawing
her
ironical
and
musing
eye
from
his
image
to
himself
.
A
new
photograph
of
Tarr
was
being
placed
on
her
writing-table
flush
with
the
window
.
Ten
days
previously
it
had
been
taken
in
that
room
.
It
had
ousted
a
Klinger
and
generally
created
a
restlessness
,
to
her
eye
,
in
the
other
objects
.
“
Ah
,
you’ve
got
the
photographs
,
have
you
?
—
Is
that
me
?
”
She
handed
it
to
him
.
“
Yes
,
they
came
yesterday
!
”
“
Yesterday
”
he
had
not
been
there
!
Whatever
he
asked
at
the
present
moment
would
draw
a
softly
thudding
answer
,
heavy
German
reproach
concealed
in
it
with
tireless
ingenuity
.
These
photographs
would
under
other
circumstances
have
been
produced
on
his
arrival
with
considerable
noise
.
Tarr
had
looked
rather
askance
at
this
portrait
and
Bertha’s
occupation
.
There
was
his
photograph
,
calmly
,
with
an
air
of
permanence
,
taking
up
its
position
on
her
writing-table
,
just
as
he
was
preparing
to
vanish
for
good
.
“
Let’s
see
yours
,
”
he
said
,
still
holding
the
photograph
.
What
strange
effects
all
this
complicated
activity
inside
had
on
the
surface
,
his
face
.
A
set
sulky
stagnation
,
every
violence
dropping
an
imperceptible
shade
on
to
it
,
the
features
overgrown
with
this
strange
stuff
—
that
twist
of
the
head
that
was
him
,
and
that
could
only
be
got
rid
of
by
breaking
.
“
They’re
no
good
,
”
she
said
,
closing
the
drawer
,
handing
her
photographs
,
sandwiched
with
tissue
paper
,
to
Sorbert
.
“
That
one
”
—
a
sitting
pose
,
face
yearning
from
photograph
,
lighted
,
not
with
a
smile
,
but
a
sort
of
sentimental
illumination
,
the
drapery
arranged
like
a
poster
—
“
I
don’t
think
that’s
so
bad
,
”
she
said
slangily
,
meant
to
be
curt
and
“
cheeky
.
”
“
What
an
idiot
!
”
he
thought
;
“
what
a
face
!
”
A
consciously
pathetic
ghost
of
a
smile
,
a
clumsy
sweetness
,
the
energetic
sentimental
claim
of
a
rather
rough
but
frank
self
.
There
was
a
photograph
of
her
in
riding
habit
.
This
was
the
best
of
them
.
He
softened
.
Then
came
a
photograph
of
them
together
.
How
strangely
that
twist
of
his
,
or
set
angle
of
the
head
,
fitted
in
with
the
corresponding
peculiarities
of
the
woman’s
head
and
bust
.
What
abysms
of
idiocy
I
Rubbishy
hours
and
months
formed
the
atmosphere
around
these
two
futile
dolls
!
He
put
the
photographs
down
and
looked
up
.
She
was
sitting
on
the
edge
of
the
table
.
The
dressing
gown
was
open
,
and
one
large
thigh
,
with
ugly
whiteness
,
slid
half
out
of
it
.
It
looked
dead
,
and
connected
with
her
like
a
ventriloquist’s
dummy
with
its
master
.
It
was
natural
to
wonder
where
his
senses
had
gone
in
looking
at
these
decorous
photographs
.
This
exhibition
appeared
to
be
her
explanation
of
the
matter
.
The
face
was
not
very
original
.
But
a
thigh
cannot
be
stupid
to
the
same
degree
.
He
gazed
surlily
.
Her
musing
expression
at
this
moment
was
supremely
absurd
.
He
smiled
and
turned
his
face
to
the
window
.
She
pretended
to
become
conscious
suddenly
of
something
amiss
.
She
drew
the
dressing-gown
round
her
.
“
Have
you
paid
the
man
yet
?
What
did
he
charge
?
I
expect
—
—
”
Tarr
took
up
the
packet
again
.
“
Oh
,
these
are
six
francs
.
I
forget
what
the
big
ones
are
.
I
haven’t
paid
him
yet
.
He’s
coming
to
photograph
Miss
Goenthner
to-morrow
.
”
They
sat
without
saying
anything
.
He
examined
the
room
as
you
do
a
doctor’s
waiting
room
.
He
had
just
come
there
to
see
if
he
could
turn
his
back
on
it
.
That
appeared
at
first
sight
a
very
easy
matter
.
That
is
why
he
so
far
had
not
succeeded
in
doing
so
.
Never
put
on
his
mettle
,
his
standing
army
of
will
was
not
sufficient
to
cope
with
it
.
But
would
this
little
room
ever
appear
worth
turning
his
back
on
?
It
was
the
purest
distillation
of
the
commonplace
.
He
had
become
bewitched
by
its
strangeness
.
It
was
the
height
of
the
unreal
.
Bertha
was
like
a
fairy
that
he
visited
,
and
“
became
engaged
”
to
in
another
world
,
not
the
real
one
.
It
was
so
much
the
real
ordinary
world
that
for
him
with
his
out-of-the-way
experience
it
was
a
phantasmagoria
.
Then
what
he
had
described
as
his
disease
of
sport
was
perpetually
fed
.
Sex
even
with
him
,
according
to
his
analysis
,
being
a
sort
of
ghost
,
was
at
home
in
this
gross
and
buffonic
illusion
.
Something
had
filled
up
a
blank
and
become
saturated
with
the
blankness
.
How
much
would
Bertha
mind
a
separation
?
Tarr
saw
in
her
one
of
those
clear
,
humorous
,
superficial
natures
,
a
Venetian
or
a
Viennese
,
the
easy
product
of
a
cynical
and
abundant
life
.
He
underrated
the
potency
of
his
fascination
.
Secondly
,
he
miscalculated
the
depths
of
obedient
attachment
he
had
wakened
.
They
sat
impatiently
waiting
.
A
certain
formality
had
to
be
observed
.
Then
the
business
of
the
day
could
be
proceeded
with
.
They
were
both
bored
with
the
part
imposed
by
the
punctilious
and
ridiculous
god
of
love
.
Bertha
,
into
the
bargain
,
wanted
to
get
on
with
her
cooking
.
She
would
have
cut
considerably
the
reconciliation
scene
.
All
her
side
of
the
programme
had
been
conscientiously
done
.
“
Berthe
,
tu
es
une
brave
fille
!
”
“
Tu
trouves
?
”
“
Oui
.
”
More
inaction
followed
on
Tarr’s
part
.
She
sometimes
thought
he
enjoyed
these
ceremonies
.
Through
girlhood
her
strong
senses
had
churned
away
at
her
,
and
claimed
an
image
from
her
gentle
and
dreamy
mind
.
In
its
turn
the
mind
had
accumulated
its
impressions
of
men
,
fancies
from
books
and
conversations
,
and
made
its
hive
.
So
her
senses
were
presented
with
the
image
that
was
to
satisfy
and
rule
them
.
They
flung
themselves
upon
it
as
she
had
flung
herself
upon
Tarr
.
This
image
left
considerable
latitude
.
Tarr
had
been
the
first
to
fit
—
rather
paradoxically
,
but
all
the
faster
for
that
.
This
“
high
standard
Aryan
female
,
”
as
Tarr
described
her
,
had
arrived
,
with
him
,
at
the
full
and
headlong
condition
we
agree
to
name
“
love
.
”
The
image
,
or
type
,
was
thrown
away
.
The
individual
took
its
place
.
Bertha
had
had
several
sweethearts
before
Tarr
.
They
had
all
left
the
type-image
intact
.
At
most
it
had
been
a
little
blurred
by
them
.
It
had
almost
been
smashed
for
one
man
,
physically
resembling
Tarr
.
But
he
had
never
got
quite
near
enough
to
do
that
.
Tarr
had
characteristically
supposed
this
image
to
have
little
sharpness
of
outline
left
.
He
thought
it
would
not
be
a
very
difficult
matter
for
any
one
to
extort
its
recognition
.
“
Vous
êtes
mon
goût
,
Sorbet
.
Du
bist
mein
gesmack
,
”
she
would
say
.
Tarr
was
not
demonstrative
when
she
said
this
.
He
could
not
reciprocate
.
And
he
could
not
help
reflecting
whether
to
be
“
her
taste
”
was
very
flattering
.
There
must
be
something
the
matter
with
him
.
All
her
hope
centred
in
his
laziness
.
She
watched
his
weaknesses
with
a
loving
eye
.
He
had
much
to
say
about
his
under-nature
.
She
listened
attentively
.
“
It
is
the
most
dangerous
quality
of
all
to
possess
,
”
and
he
would
sententiously
add
—
“
only
the
best
people
possess
it
,
in
common
with
the
obscure
and
humble
.
It
is
like
a
great
caravanserai
in
which
scores
of
people
congregate
.
It
is
a
disguise
in
which
such
a
one
,
otherwise
Pasha
,
circulates
among
unembarrassed
men
.
He
brings
away
stores
of
wisdom
,
with
much
diversion
by
the
way
.
”
He
saw
,
however
,
the
danger
of
these
facilities
.
The
Pasha
had
been
given
a
magic
mask
of
humbleness
.
But
the
inner
nature
seemed
flowing
equally
to
the
mask
and
the
unmasked
magnificence
.
He
was
as
yet
unformed
,
but
wished
to
form
wholly
Pasha
.
This
under-nature’s
chief
use
was
as
a
precious
viliegiature
for
his
energy
.
Bertha
was
the
country
wench
the
more
exalted
incarnation
had
met
while
on
its
holidays
,
or
,
wandering
idle
Khalife
,
in
some
concourse
of
his
surreptitious
life
.
His
three
days’
unannounced
and
uncommented
“
leave
”
had
made
Bertha
very
nervous
.
She
suffered
from
the
incomplete
,
unsymmetrical
appearance
her
life
now
presented
.
Everything
spread
out
palpably
before
her
,
that
she
could
arrange
like
a
roomful
of
furniture
,
was
how
she
liked
it
.
Even
in
her
present
shakedown
of
a
life
,
Tarr
had
noticed
the
way
he
was
treated
as
material
for
“
arrangement
.
”
But
she
had
never
been
able
to
indulge
this
idiosyncrasy
much
in
the
past
.
This
was
not
the
first
time
that
she
had
found
herself
in
a
similar
position
.
Hence
her
certain
air
of
being
at
home
in
these
casual
quarters
,
which
belied
her
.
The
detested
temporary
dwelling
in
the
last
few
days
had
been
given
a
new
coat
of
sombre
thought
.
Found
in
accidental
quarters
,
had
she
not
been
over-delicate
in
not
suggesting
an
immediate
move
into
something
more
homelike
and
permanent
.
People
would
leave
her
there
for
the
rest
of
her
natural
life
unless
she
were
a
little
brutal
and
got
herself
out
somehow
.
No
shadow
of
un-nice
feeling
ever
tainted
her
abject
genuineness
.
Cunning
efforts
to
retain
him
abounded
.
But
she
never
blamed
or
turned
on
him
.
She
had
given
herself
long
ago
,
at
once
,
without
ceremony
.
She
awaited
his
thanks
or
no
thanks
simply
.
But
the
itch
of
action
was
on
her
.
Tarr’s
absences
were
like
light
.
His
presence
was
a
shadow
.
They
were
both
stormy
.
The
last
absence
had
illuminated
the
undiscipline
of
her
life
.
During
the
revealing
luridness
,
she
got
to
work
.
Reconstruction
was
begun
.
She
had
trusted
too
much
in
Fate
and
obedient
waiting
Hymen
.
So
Bertha
had
a
similar
ferment
to
Tarr’s
.
Anger
with
herself
,
dreary
appetite
for
action
,
would
help
her
over
farewells
.
She
was
familiar
enough
with
them
,
too
,
in
thought
.
She
would
not
stir
a
hand
to
change
things
.
He
must
do
that
.
She
would
only
facilitate
things
in
all
directions
for
him
.
The
new
energy
delivered
attack
after
attack
upon
her
hope
.
She
saw
nothing
beyond
Tarr
but
measures
of
utility
.
The
“
heart
”
had
always
been
her
most
cherished
ornament
.
That
Tarr
would
take
with
him
,
as
she
would
keep
his
ring
and
the
books
he
had
given
her
.
She
could
not
now
get
it
back
for
the
asking
.
She
did
not
want
it
!
She
must
indulge
her
mania
for
tasteful
arrangement
in
future
without
this
.
Or
rather
what
heart
she
had
left
would
be
rather
like
one
of
those
salmon-coloured
,
corrugated
gas
office-stoves
,
compared
to
a
hearth
with
a
fire
of
pine
.
Tarr
had
not
brought
his
indifference
there
to
make
it
play
tricks
,
perform
little
feats
.
Nor
did
he
wish
to
press
it
into
inhuman
actions
.
It
was
a
humane
“
indifference
,
”
essentially
.
So
with
reluctance
he
got
up
,
and
went
over
to
her
.
“
You
haven’t
kissed
me
yet
,
”
he
said
,
in
imitation
of
her
.
“
Why
kiss
you
,
Sorbet
?
”
she
managed
to
say
before
her
lips
were
closed
.
He
drew
her
ungraciously
and
roughly
into
his
arms
,
and
started
kissing
her
on
the
mouth
.
She
covered
him
,
docilely
,
with
her
inertia
.
He
was
supposed
to
be
performing
a
miracle
of
bringing
the
dead
to
life
.
Gone
about
too
crudely
,
the
willing
mountebank
,
Death
,
had
been
offended
.
It
is
not
thus
that
great
spirits
are
prevailed
upon
to
flee
.
Her
“
indifference
”
—
the
great
,
simulated
,
and
traditional
—
would
not
be
ousted
by
an
upstart
and
younger
relative
.
By
Tarr
himself
,
grown
repentant
,
yes
.
But
not
by
another
“
indifference
.
”
Then
his
brutality
stung
her
offended
spirit
,
that
had
been
pursing
itself
up
for
so
many
hours
.
Tears
began
rolling
tranquilly
out
of
her
eyes
in
large
dignified
drops
.
They
had
not
been
very
far
back
in
the
wings
.
He
received
them
frigidly
.
She
was
sure
,
thought
he
,
to
detect
something
unusual
during
this
scene
.
Then
with
the
woman’s
bustling
,
desperate
,
possessive
fury
,
she
suddenly
woke
up
.
She
disengaged
her
arms
wildly
and
threw
them
round
his
neck
,
tears
becoming
torrential
.
Underneath
the
poor
comedian
that
played
such
antics
with
such
phlegmatic
and
exasperating
persistence
,
this
distressed
being
thrust
up
its
trembling
mask
,
like
a
drowning
rat
.
Its
finer
head
pierced
her
blunter
wedge
.
“
Oh
!
dis
,
Sorbet
!
Est-ce
que
tu
m’aime
?
M’aime-tu
?
Dis
!
”
“
Yes
,
you
know
.
Don’t
cry
.
”
A
wail
,
like
the
buzzing
on
a
comb
covered
with
paper
followed
.
“
Oh
,
dis
;
m’aimes-tu
?
Dis
que
tu
m’aime
!
”
A
blurting
,
hurrying
personality
rushed
right
up
into
his
face
.
It
was
like
the
sightless
clammy
charging
of
a
bat
.
More
eloquent
regions
had
ambushed
him
.
Humbug
had
mysteriously
departed
.
It
was
a
blast
of
knife
like
air
in
the
middle
of
their
hot-house
.
He
stared
at
her
face
groping
up
as
though
it
scented
troubles
in
his
face
.
It
pushed
to
right
and
then
to
left
and
rocked
itself
.
Intelligent
and
aware
,
it
lost
this
intensity
.
A
complicated
image
developed
in
his
mind
as
he
stood
with
her
.
He
was
remembering
Schopenhauer
.
It
was
of
a
Chinese
puzzle
of
boxes
within
boxes
,
or
of
insects’
discarded
envelopes
.
A
woman
had
in
the
middle
of
her
a
kernel
,
a
sort
of
very
substantial
astral
baby
.
This
baby
was
apt
to
swell
.
She
then
became
all
baby
.
The
husk
he
held
was
a
painted
mummy-case
.
He
was
a
mummy-case
too
.
Only
he
contained
nothing
but
innumerable
other
painted
cases
inside
,
smaller
and
smaller
ones
.
The
smallest
was
not
a
substantial
astral
baby
,
however
,
or
live
core
,
but
a
painting
like
the
rest
.
His
kernel
was
a
painting
.
That
was
as
it
should
be
!
He
was
half
sitting
on
the
table
.
He
found
himself
patting
her
back
.
He
stopped
doing
this
.
His
face
looked
heavy
and
fatigued
.
A
dull
,
intense
infection
of
her
despair
had
filled
it
.
He
held
her
head
gently
against
his
neck
.
Or
he
held
her
skull
against
his
neck
.
She
shook
and
sniffed
softly
.
“
Bertha
,
stop
crying
.
I
know
I’m
a
brute
.
But
it’s
fortunate
for
you
that
I
am
.
I’m
only
a
brute
.
There’s
nothing
to
cry
for
.
”
He
over-estimated
deafness
in
weepers
.
And
when
women
flooded
their
country
he
always
sat
down
and
waited
.
Often
as
this
had
happened
to
him
,
he
had
never
attempted
to
circumvent
it
.
He
felt
like
a
person
who
is
taking
a
little
dog
for
a
walk
at
the
end
of
a
string
.
His
voice
appeared
husky
and
artificial
near
her
ear
.
Turned
towards
the
window
,
he
looked
at
the
green
stain
of
the
foliage
outside
.
Something
was
explained
.
Nature
was
not
friendly
to
him
;
its
metallic
tints
jarred
.
Or
anyhow
,
it
was
the
same
for
all
men
.
The
sunlight
seen
like
an
adventurous
stranger
in
the
streets
was
intimate
with
Bertha
.
The
scrap
of
crude
forest
had
made
him
want
to
be
away
unaccompanied
.
But
it
was
tainted
with
her
.
If
he
went
away
now
he
would
only
be
playing
at
liberty
.
He
had
been
right
in
not
accepting
the
invitations
of
the
spring
.
The
settlement
of
this
question
stood
between
him
and
pleasure
.
A
momentary
well-being
had
been
accepted
.
The
larger
spiritual
invitation
he
had
rejected
.
He
would
only
take
that
when
he
was
free
.
In
its
annual
expansion
Nature
sent
its
large
unstinting
invitations
.
But
Nature
loved
the
genius
and
liberty
in
him
.
Tarr
felt
the
invitation
would
not
have
been
so
cordial
had
he
proposed
taking
a
wife
and
family
!
He
led
her
passively
protesting
to
the
sofa
.
Like
a
sick
person
,
she
was
half
indignant
at
being
moved
.
He
should
have
remained
,
a
perpendicular
bed
for
her
,
till
the
fever
had
passed
.
Revolted
at
the
hypocrisy
required
,
he
left
her
standing
at
the
edge
of
the
sofa
.
She
stood
crouching
a
little
,
her
face
buried
in
her
hands
,
in
indignant
absurdity
.
The
only
moderately
clean
thing
to
do
would
be
to
walk
out
of
the
door
at
once
and
never
come
back
.
With
his
background
of
months
of
different
behaviour
this
could
not
be
done
.
She
sank
down
on
the
sofa
,
head
buried
in
the
bilious
cushions
.
She
lay
there
like
an
animal
,
he
thought
,
or
some
one
mad
,
a
lump
of
half-humanity
.
On
one
side
of
him
Bertha
lay
quite
motionless
and
silent
,
and
on
the
other
the
little
avenue
was
equally
still
.
The
false
stillness
within
,
however
,
now
gave
back
to
the
scene
without
its
habitual
character
.
It
still
seemed
strange
to
him
.
But
all
its
strangeness
now
lay
in
its
everyday
and
natural
appearance
.
The
quiet
inside
,
in
the
room
,
was
what
did
not
seem
strange
to
him
.
He
had
become
imbued
with
that
.
Bertha’s
numb
silence
and
abandon
was
a
stupid
tableau
vivant
of
his
own
mood
.
In
this
impasse
of
arrested
life
he
stood
sick
and
useless
.
They
progressed
from
stage
to
stage
of
this
weary
farce
.
Confusion
increased
.
It
resembled
a
combat
between
two
wrestlers
of
mathematically
equal
strength
.
Neither
could
win
.
One
or
other
of
them
was
usually
wallowing
warily
or
lifelessly
on
his
stomach
,
the
other
tugging
at
him
or
examining
and
prodding
his
carcass
.
His
liking
,
contempt
,
realization
of
her
love
for
him
,
his
confused
but
exigent
conscience
,
dogged
preparation
to
say
farewell
,
all
dovetailed
with
precision
.
There
she
lay
a
deadweight
.
He
could
take
his
hat
and
go
.
But
once
gone
in
this
manner
he
could
not
stay
.
He
turned
round
,
and
sitting
on
the
window-sill
began
again
staring
at
Bertha
.
Women’s
stormy
weakness
,
psychic
discharges
,
always
affected
him
as
the
sight
of
a
person
being
seasick
.
It
was
the
result
of
a
weak
spirit
,
as
the
other
was
the
result
of
a
weak
stomach
.
They
could
only
live
on
the
retching
seas
of
their
troubles
on
the
condition
of
being
quite
empty
.
The
lack
of
art
or
illusion
in
actual
life
enables
the
sensitive
man
to
exist
.
Likewise
the
phenomenal
lack
of
nature
in
the
