averageman’s
existence
is
lucky
and
necessary
for
him
.
Tarr
in
some
way
gathered
strength
from
contemplation
of
Bertha
.
His
contradictory
and
dislocated
feelings
were
brought
into
a
new
synthesis
.
Launching
himself
off
the
window-sill
,
he
stood
still
as
though
suspended
in
thought
.
He
then
sat
down
provisionally
at
the
writing-table
,
within
a
few
feet
of
the
sofa
.
He
took
up
a
book
of
Goethe’s
poems
that
she
had
given
him
.
In
cumbrous
field-day
dress
of
Gothic
characters
,
squad
after
squad
,
these
poems
paraded
their
message
.
He
had
left
it
there
on
a
former
visit
.
He
came
to
the
ode
named
“
Ganymed
,
”
Wie
im
Morgenglanze
Du
rings
mich
angluhst
Fruhling
,
Geliebter
!
Mit
tausendfacher
Liebeswonne
Sich
an
mein
herz
drangt
Deiner
ewigen
Warme
Heilig
,
Gefuhl
,
Unendliche
Schone
!
He
put
it
in
his
breast-pocket
.
As
soldiers
go
into
battle
sometimes
with
the
Bible
in
their
pocket
,
he
prepared
himself
for
a
final
combat
,
with
Goethe
upon
his
person
.
Men’s
lives
have
been
known
to
have
been
saved
through
a
lesser
devoutness
.
He
was
engaging
battle
again
with
the
most
chivalrous
sentiments
.
The
reserves
had
been
called
up
,
his
nature
mobilized
.
As
his
will
gathered
force
and
volume
(
in
its
determination
to
“
fling
”
her
)
he
unhypocritically
keyed
up
its
attitude
.
It
resembled
extreme
cunning
.
He
had
felt
,
while
he
had
been
holding
her
,
at
a
disadvantage
because
of
his
listless
emotion
.
With
emotion
equal
to
hers
,
he
could
accomplish
anything
.
Leaving
her
would
be
child’s
play
.
He
appeared
to
be
projecting
the
manufacture
of
a
more
adequate
sentiment
.
Any
indirectness
was
out
of
the
question
.
A
“
letting
her
down
softly
,
”
kissing
and
leaving
in
an
hour
or
two
,
as
though
things
had
not
changed
,
that
must
now
be
eschewed
—
oh
,
yes
.
The
genuine
section
of
her
,
of
which
he
had
a
troubled
glimpse
,
mattered
,
nothing
else
.
He
must
appeal
obstinately
to
that
.
Their
coming
together
had
been
prosecuted
on
his
side
with
a
stupid
levity
.
He
would
retrieve
this
in
the
parting
.
He
wished
to
do
everything
most
opposite
to
his
previous
lazy
conduct
.
He
frowned
on
Humour
.
The
first
skirmish
of
his
comic
Armageddon
had
opened
with
the
advance
of
his
mysterious
and
goguenard
“
indifference
.
”
This
dwindled
away
at
the
first
onset
.
A
new
and
more
powerful
thing
had
taken
its
place
.
This
was
,
in
Bertha’s
eyes
,
a
difference
in
Tarr
.
“
Something
has
happened
;
he
is
different
,
”
she
said
to
herself
.
“
He
has
met
somebody
else
,
”
had
been
her
rapid
provisional
conclusion
.
She
suddenly
got
up
without
speaking
.
Rather
spectrally
,
she
went
over
to
the
writing-table
for
her
handkerchief
.
She
had
not
moved
an
inch
or
a
muscle
until
quite
herself
again
,
dropping
steadily
down
all
the
scale
of
feeling
to
normal
.
With
matter-of-factness
she
got
up
,
easily
and
quietly
,
making
Sorbert
a
little
dizzy
.
Her
face
had
all
the
drama
wrung
out
of
it
.
It
was
hard
,
clear
,
and
garishly
white
,
like
her
body
.
If
he
were
to
have
a
chance
of
talking
he
must
clear
the
air
of
electricity
completely
.
Else
at
his
first
few
words
storm
might
return
.
Once
lunch
had
swept
through
the
room
,
things
would
be
better
.
He
would
send
the
strawberries
ahead
to
prepare
his
way
.
It
was
like
fattening
a
lamb
for
the
slaughter
.
This
idea
pleased
him
.
Now
that
he
had
accepted
the
existence
of
a
possible
higher
plane
of
feeling
as
between
Bertha
and
himself
,
he
was
anxious
to
avoid
display
.
So
he
ran
the
risk
of
outdoing
his
former
callousness
.
Tarr
was
saturated
with
morbid
English
shyness
,
that
cannot
tolerate
passion
and
its
nakedness
.
This
shyness
,
as
he
contended
,
in
its
need
to
show
its
heart
,
discovers
subtleties
and
refinements
of
expression
,
opposites
and
between
shades
,
unknown
to
less
gauche
and
delicate
people
.
But
if
he
were
hustled
out
of
his
shell
the
anger
that
co-existed
with
his
modesty
was
the
most
spontaneous
thing
he
possessed
.
Bertha
had
always
left
him
alone
.
He
got
up
,
obsequiously
reproducing
in
his
own
movements
and
expression
her
new
normality
.
“
Well
,
how
about
lunch
?
I’ll
come
and
help
you
with
it
.
”
“
There’s
nothing
to
do
.
I’ll
get
it
.
”
Bertha
had
wiped
her
eyes
with
the
attentiveness
a
man
bestows
on
his
chin
after
a
shave
,
in
little
brusque
hard
strokes
.
She
did
not
look
at
Tarr
.
She
arranged
her
hair
in
the
mirror
,
then
went
to
the
kitchen
.
For
her
to
be
so
perfectly
natural
offended
him
.
The
intensity
of
her
past
feeling
carried
her
on
for
about
five
minutes
into
ordinary
life
.
Her
seriousness
was
tactful
for
so
long
.
Then
her
nature
began
to
give
way
.
It
broke
up
again
into
fits
and
starts
of
self-consciousness
.
The
mind
was
called
in
,
did
its
work
clumsily
as
usual
.
She
became
her
usual
self
.
Sitting
on
the
stool
by
the
window
,
in
the
act
of
eating
,
Tarr
there
in
front
of
her
,
it
was
more
than
ever
impossible
to
be
natural
.
She
resented
the
immediate
introduction
of
lunch
in
this
way
.
The
resentment
increased
her
artificiality
.
To
counterbalance
the
acceptance
of
food
,
she
had
to
throw
more
pathos
into
her
face
.
With
haggard
resignation
she
was
going
on
again
;
doing
what
was
asked
of
her
,
partaking
of
this
lunch
.
She
did
so
with
unnecessary
conscientiousness
.
Her
strange
wave
of
dignity
had
let
her
in
for
this
?
Almost
she
must
make
up
for
that
dignity
!
Life
was
confusing
her
again
;
it
was
useless
to
struggle
.
“
Aren’t
these
strawberries
good
?
These
little
hard
ones
are
better
than
the
bigger
strawberries
.
Have
some
more
cream
?
”
“
Thank
you
.
”
She
should
have
said
no.
But
being
greedy
in
this
matter
she
accepted
it
,
with
heavy
air
of
some
subtle
advantage
gained
.
“
How
did
the
riding
lesson
go
off
?
”
She
went
to
a
riding
school
in
the
mornings
.
“
Oh
,
quite
well
,
thank
you
.
How
did
your
lesson
go
off
?
”
This
referred
to
his
exchange
of
languages
with
a
Russian
girl
.
“
Admirably
,
thank
you
.
”
The
Russian
girl
was
a
useful
feint
for
her
.
“
What
is
the
time
?
”
The
time
?
What
cheek
!
He
was
almost
startled
.
He
took
his
heavy
watch
out
and
presented
its
face
to
her
ironically
.
“
Are
you
in
a
hurry
?
”
he
asked
.
“
No
,
I
just
wondered
what
the
time
was
.
I
live
so
vaguely
.
”
“
You
are
sure
you
are
not
in
a
hurry
?
”
“
Oh
,
no
!
”
“
I
have
a
confession
to
make
,
my
dear
Bertha
.
”
He
had
not
put
his
watch
back
in
his
pocket
.
She
had
asked
for
the
watch
;
he
would
use
it
.
“
I
came
here
just
now
to
test
a
funny
mood
—
a
quite
new
mood
.
My
visit
is
a
sort
of
trial
trip
of
this
mood
.
It
was
connected
with
you
.
I
wanted
to
find
out
what
it
meant
,
and
how
it
would
be
affected
by
your
presence
.
”
Bertha
looked
up
with
mocking
sulky
face
,
a
shade
of
hopeful
curiosity
.
“
It
was
a
feeling
of
complete
indifference
as
regards
yourself
!
”
He
said
this
solemnly
,
with
the
pomp
with
which
a
weighty
piece
of
news
might
be
delivered
by
a
solicitor
in
conversation
with
his
client
.
“
Oh
,
is
that
all
?
”
The
new
barbaric
effort
was
met
by
Bertha
scornfully
.
“
No
,
that
is
not
all
.
”
Catching
at
the
professional
figure
his
manner
had
conjured
up
,
he
ran
his
further
remarks
into
that
mould
.
The
presence
of
his
watch
in
his
hand
had
brought
some
image
of
the
family
physician
or
gouty
attorney
.
It
all
centred
round
the
watch
,
and
her
interest
in
the
time
of
day
.
“
I
have
found
that
this
was
only
another
fraud
on
my
too
credulous
sensibility
.
”
He
smiled
with
professional
courtesy
.
“
At
sight
of
you
,
my
mood
evaporated
.
But
what
I
want
to
talk
about
is
what
is
left
.
It
would
be
well
to
bring
our
accounts
up
to
date
.
I’m
afraid
the
reckoning
is
enormously
against
me
.
You
have
been
a
criminally
indulgent
partner
—
—
”
He
had
now
got
the
image
down
to
the
more
precise
form
of
two
partners
,
perhaps
comfortable
wine
merchants
,
going
through
their
books
.
“
My
dear
boy
,
I
know
that
.
You
needn’t
trouble
to
go
any
further
.
But
why
are
you
going
into
these
calculations
,
and
sums
of
profit
and
loss
?
”
“
Because
my
sentimental
finances
,
if
I
may
use
that
term
,
are
in
a
bad
state
.
”
“
Then
they
only
match
your
worldly
ones
.
”
“
In
my
worldly
ones
I
have
no
partner
,
”
he
reminded
her
.
£
'
..She
cast
her
eyes
about
in
swoops
,
full
of
self-possessed
wildness
.
“
I
exonerate
you
,
Sorbet
,
”
she
said
,
“
you
needn’t
go
into
details
.
What
is
yours
and
what
is
mine
.
My
God
!
What
does
it
matter
?
Not
much
!
”
“
I
know
you
to
be
generous
—
—
”
“
Leave
that
then
!
Leave
these
calculations
!
All
that
means
so
little
to
me
!
I
feel
at
the
end
of
my
strength
—
au
bout
de
force
!
”
She
always
heaved
this
out
with
much
energy
.
“
If
you’ve
made
up
your
mind
to
go
—
do
so
,
Sorbet
.
I
release
you
!
You
owe
me
nothing
.
It
was
all
my
fault
.
But
spare
me
a
reckoning
.
I
can’t
stand
any
more
—
—
”
“
No
,
I
insist
on
being
responsible
.
We
can’t
leave
things
upside
down
—
our
books
in
an
endless
muddle
,
our
desks
open
,
and
just
walk
away
for
ever
—
and
perhaps
set
up
shop
somewhere
else
?
”
“
I
do
not
feel
in
any
mood
to
‘
set
up
shop
somewhere
else
,
’
I
can
assure
you
!
”
The
unbusinesslike
element
in
the
situation
she
had
allowed
to
develop
for
obvious
reasons
.
She
now
resisted
his
dishonest
attempt
to
set
this
right
,
and
benefit
first
,
as
he
had
done
,
by
disorder
,
and
lastly
by
order
.
“
We
can’t
,
in
any
case
,
improve
matters
by
talking
.
I
—
I
,
you
needn’t
fear
for
me
,
Sorbet
.
I
can
look
after
myself
,
only
don’t
let
us
wrangle
,
”
with
appealing
gesture
and
saintlily
smiling
face
,
“
let
us
part
friends
.
Let
us
be
worthy
of
each
other
.
”
Bertha
always
opposed
to
Tarr’s
images
her
Teutonic
lyricism
,
usually
repeating
the
same
phrases
several
times
.
This
was
degenerating
into
their
routine
of
wrangle
.
Always
confronted
by
this
imperturbable
,
deaf
and
blind
“
generosity
,
”
the
day
would
end
in
the
usual
senseless
“
draw
.
”
His
words
still
remained
unsaid
.
“
Bertha
,
listen
.
Let
us
,
just
for
fun
,
throw
all
this
overboard
.
I
mean
the
cargo
of
inflated
soulstuff
that
makes
us
go
statelily
,
no
doubt
,
but
—
Haven’t
we
quarrelled
enough
,
and
said
these
things
often
enough
?
Our
quarrels
have
been
our
undoing
.
A
long
chain
of
little
quarrels
has
bound
us
down
.
We
should
neither
of
us
be
here
if
it
hadn’t
been
for
them
.
”
Bertha
gazed
at
Tarr
half
wonderingly
.
She
realized
that
something
out
of
the
ordinary
was
on
foot
.
Tarr
proceeded
.
“
I
have
accepted
from
you
a
queer
sentimental
dialect
of
life
,
I
should
have
insisted
on
your
expressing
yourself
in
a
more
logical
and
metropolitan
speech
.
Let
us
drop
it
.
There
is
no
need
to
talk
negro
,
baby-talk
,
or
hybrid
drivel
from
no-man’s-land
.
I
don’t
think
we
should
lead
a
very
pleasant
married
life
—
naturally
.
In
the
second
place
,
you
are
not
a
girl
who
wants
an
intrigue
,
but
to
marry
.
I
have
been
playing
at
fiance
with
a
certain
pleasure
in
the
novelty
,
but
I
experience
a
genuine
horror
at
the
possible
consequences
.
I
have
been
playing
with
you
!
”
He
said
this
eagerly
,
as
though
it
were
a
point
in
his
argument
—
as
it
was
.
He
paused
,
for
effect
apparently
.
“
You
,
for
your
part
,
Bertha
,
don’t
do
yourself
justice
when
you
are
acting
.
I
am
in
the
same
position
.
I
feel
this
.
My
ill-humour
occasionally
falls
in
your
direction
—
yours
,
for
its
part
,
falling
in
mine
when
I
criticize
your
acting
.
We
don’t
act
well
together
,
and
that’s
a
fact
;
though
I’m
sure
we
should
be
smooth
enough
allies
off
the
boards
of
love
.
Your
heart
,
Bertha
,
is
in
the
right
place
;
ah
,
?
a
—
—
”
“
You
are
too
kind
!
”
“
But
—
but
I
will
go
further
!
At
the
risk
of
appearing
outrageously
paradoxical
.
This
heart
in
question
is
so
much
part
of
your
intelligence
,
too
—
—
”
“
Thanks
!
Thanks
!
”
“
—
despite
your
execrable
fatuity
as
an
actress
!
Your
shrewdness
and
goodness
give
each
other
the
hand
.
—
But
to
return
to
my
point
.
I
had
always
till
I
met
you
regarded
marriage
as
a
thing
beyond
all
argument
not
for
me
.
I
was
unusually
isolated
from
this
idea
,
anyway
;
I
had
never
even
reflected
what
marriage
was
.
You
introduced
me
to
marriage
!
In
so
doing
you
are
responsible
for
all
our
troubles
.
The
approach
of
this
horrible
thing
,
so
surprisingly
pleasant
and
friendly
at
nearer
sight
,
caused
revulsion
of
feeling
beyond
my
control
,
resulting
in
sudden
fiançailles
.
Like
a
woman
luxuriously
fingering
some
merchant’s
goods
,
too
dear
for
her
,
or
not
wanted
enough
for
the
big
price
,
so
I
philandered
with
the
idea
of
marriage
.
”
This
simplification
put
things
,
merely
,
in
a
new
callous
light
.
Tarr
felt
that
she
must
naturally
be
enjoying
,
too
,
his
points
.
He
forgot
to
direct
his
exposition
in
such
a
way
as
to
hurt
her
least
.
This
trivial
and
tortured
landscape
had
a
beauty
for
him
he
could
have
explained
,
where
her
less
developed
sense
saw
nothing
but
a
harrowing
reality
.
The
lunch
had
had
the
same
effect
on
him
that
it
was
intended
to
have
on
his
victim
;
not
enough
to
overthrow
his
resolution
,
but
enough
to
relax
its
form
.
As
to
Bertha
,
this
seemed
,
in
the
main
,
“
Sorbet
all
over
.
”
There
was
nothing
new
.
There
was
the
“
difference
.
”
But
it
was
the
familiar
process
;
he
was
attempting
to
convince
himself
,
heartlessly
,
on
her
.
Whether
he
would
ever
manage
it
was
problematic
.
There
was
no
sign
of
his
being
likely
to
do
so
more
to-day
than
any
other
day
.
She
listened
;
sententiously
released
him
from
time
to
time
.
Just
as
she
had
seemed
strange
to
him
in
some
way
when
he
came
in
,
seen
through
his
“
indifference
,
”
so
he
had
appeared
a
little
odd
to
her
.
This
had
wiped
off
the
dullness
of
habit
for
a
moment
.
This
husband
she
obstinately
wanted
had
been
recognized
.
She
had
seized
him
round
the
shoulders
and
clung
to
him
,
as
though
he
had
been
her
child
that
some
senseless
force
were
about
to
snatch
.
As
to
his
superstition
about
marriage
—
was
it
not
merely
restlessness
of
youth
,
propaganda
of
Liberty
,
that
a
year
or
so
would
see
in
Limbo
?
For
was
he
not
a
“
marrying
man
”
?
She
was
sure
of
it
!
She
had
tried
not
to
frighten
him
,
and
to
keep
“
Marriage
”
in
the
background
.
So
Tarr’s
disquisition
had
no
effect
except
for
one
thing
.
When
he
spoke
of
pleasure
he
derived
from
idea
of
marriage
,
she
wearily
pricked
up
her
ears
.
The
conviction
that
Tarr
was
a
domesticated
animal
was
confirmed
from
his
own
lips
.
The
only
result
of
his
sortie
was
to
stimulate
her
always
vigilant
hope
and
irony
,
both
,
just
a
little
.
He
had
intended
to
prepare
the
couch
for
her
despair
!
His
last
words
,
affirming
Marriage
to
be
a
game
not
worth
the
candle
,
brought
a
faint
and
“
weary
”
smile
to
her
face
.
She
was
once
more
,
obviously
,
au
bout
de
force
.
“
Sorbert
;
I
understand
you
.
Do
realize
that
.
There
is
no
necessity
for
all
this
rigmarole
with
me
.
If
you
think
you
shouldn’t
marry
—
why
,
it’s
quite
simple
!
Don’t
think
that
I
would
force
you
to
marry
!
Oh
,
no
!
”
(
The
training
guttural
unctuous
accent
she
had
in
speaking
English
filled
her
discourse
with
natural
emphasis
.
)
“
I
always
said
that
you
were
too
young
.
You
need
a
wife
.
You’ve
just
said
yourself
about
your
feeling
for
marriage
.
But
you
are
so
young
!
”
She
gazed
at
him
with
compassionate
,
half-smiling
moistened
look
,
as
though
there
were
something
deformed
about
being
so
young
.
A
way
she
had
was
to
treat
anything
that
obviously
pointed
to
her
as
the
object
of
pity
,
as
though
it
manifestly
indicated
,
on
the
contrary
,
him
.
“
Yes
,
Sorbet
,
you
are
right
,
”
she
finished
briskly
.
“
I
think
it
would
be
madness
for
us
to
marry
!
”
A
suggestion
that
their
leisurely
journey
towards
marriage
was
perhaps
a
mistake
was
at
once
seriously
,
and
with
conviction
far
surpassing
that
he
had
ventured
on
,
taken
up
by
her
.
She
would
immediately
call
a
halt
,
pitch
tents
preliminary
to
turning
back
.
A
pause
was
necessary
before
beginning
the
return
journey
.
Next
day
they
would
be
jogging
on
again
in
the
same
disputed
direction
.
Tarr
now
saw
at
once
what
had
happened
.
His
good
words
had
been
lost
,
all
except
his
confession
to
a
weakness
for
the
matronly
blandishments
of
Matrimony
.
He
had
an
access
of
stupid
,
brief
,
and
blatant
laughter
.
As
people
have
wondered
what
was
at
the
core
of
the
world
,
basing
their
speculations
on
what
deepest
things
occasionally
emerge
,
with
violence
,
at
its
holes
,
so
Bertha
often
conjectured
what
might
be
at
the
heart
of
Tarr
.
Laughter
was
the
most
apparently
central
substance
that
,
to
her
knowledge
,
had
incontrollably
appeared
.
She
had
often
heard
grondements
,
grumblings
,
quite
literally
,
and
seen
unpleasant
lights
,
belonging
,
she
knew
,
to
other
categories
of
matter
.
But
they
never
broke
cover
.
At
present
this
gaiety
was
interpreted
as
proof
that
she
had
been
right
.
There
was
nothing
in
what
he
had
said
.
It
had
been
only
one
of
his
bad
fits
of
rebellion
.
But
laughter
Tarr
felt
was
retrogression
.
Laughter
must
be
given
up
.
He
must
in
some
way
,
for
both
their
sakes
,
lay
at
once
the
foundations
of
an
ending
.
For
a
few
minutes
he
played
with
the
idea
of
affecting
her
weapons
.
Perhaps
it
was
not
only
impossible
to
overcome
,
but
even
to
approach
,
or
to
be
said
to
be
on
the
same
field
with
,
this
peculiar
amazon
,
without
such
uniformity
of
engines
of
attack
or
defence
.
Should
not
he
get
himself
a
mask
like
hers
at
once
,
and
follow
suit
with
some
emphatic
sentence
?
He
stared
uncertainly
at
her
.
Then
he
sprang
to
his
feet
.
He
intended
,
as
far
as
he
could
see
beyond
this
passionate
movement
(
for
he
must
give
himself
up
to
the
mood
,
of
course
)
to
pace
the
room
.
But
his
violence
jerked
out
of
him
a
shout
of
laughter
.
He
went
stamping
about
the
floor
roaring
with
reluctant
mirth
.
It
would
not
come
out
properly
,
too
,
except
the
first
outburst
.
“
Ay
.
That’s
right
!
Go
on
!
Go
on
!
”
Bertha’s
patient
irony
seemed
to
gibe
.
This
laughter
left
him
vexed
with
himself
,
like
a
fit
of
tears
.
“
Humour
and
pathos
are
such
near
twins
,
that
Humour
may
be
exactly
described
as
the
most
feminine
attribute
of
man
,
and
the
only
one
of
which
women
show
hardly
any
trace
!
Jokes
are
like
snuff
,
a
slatternly
habit
,
”
said
Tarr
to
Butcher
once
,
“
whereas
tragedy
(
and
tears
)
is
like
tobacco
,
much
drier
and
cleaner
.
.
Comedy
being
always
the
embryo
of
Tragedy
,
the
directer
nature
weeps
.
Women
are
of
course
directer
than
men
.
But
they
have
not
the
same
resources
.
”
Butcher
blinked
.
He
thought
of
his
resources
,
and
remembered
his
inclination
to
tears
.
*
*
*
*
Tarr’s
disgust
at
this
electric
rush
of
sound
made
him
turn
it
on
her
.
He
was
now
put
at
a
fresh
disadvantage
.
How
could
he
ever
succeed
in
making
Bertha
believe
that
a
person
who
laughed
immoderately
meant
what
he
said
?
Under
the
shadow
of
this
laugh
all
his
ensuing
acts
or
words
must
toil
,
discredited
in
advance
.
Desperately
ignoring
accidents
,
he
went
back
beyond
his
first
explosion
,
and
attacked
its
cause
—
indicting
Bertha
,
more
or
less
,
as
responsible
for
the
disturbance
.
He
sat
down
squarely
in
front
of
her
,
hardly
breathed
from
his
paroxysm
,
getting
launched
without
transition
.
He
hoped
,
by
rapid
plunging
from
one
state
to
another
,
to
take
the
wind
out
of
the
laugh’s
sails
.
It
should
be
left
towering
,
spectral
,
but
becalmed
,
behind
.
“
I
don’t
know
from
which
side
to
approach
you
,
Bertha
.
You
frequently
complain
of
my
being
thoughtless
and
spoilt
.
But
your
uncorked
solemnity
is
far
more
frivolous
than
anything
I
can
manage
.
—
Excuse
me
,
of
course
,
for
speaking
in
this
way
!
—
Won’t
you
come
down
from
your
pedestal
just
for
a
few
minutes
?
”
And
he
“
sketched
,
”
in
French
idiom
,
a
gesture
,
as
though
offering
her
his
hand
.
“
My
dear
Sorbert
,
I
feel
far
from
being
on
any
pedestal
!
There’s
too
little
of
the
pedestal
,
if
anything
,
about
me
.
Really
,
Sorbet
,
”
(
she
leant
towards
him
with
an
abortive
movement
as
though
to
take
his
hand
)
“
I
am
your
friend
;
believe
me
!
”
(
Last
words
very
quick
,
with
nod
of
head
and
blink
of
eyes
.
)
“
You
worry
yourself
far
too
much
.
Don’t
do
so
.
You
are
in
no
way
bound
to
me
.
If
you
think
we
should
part
—
let
us
part
!
”
The
“
let
us
part
!
”
was
precipitate
,
strenuous
Prussian
,
almost
truculent
.
Tarr
thought
:
“
Is
it
cunning
,
stupidity
,
disease
or
what
?
”
She
continued
of
a
sudden
,
shunting
on
to
another
track
of
generosity
:
“
But
I
agree
.
Let
us
be
franker
.
We
waste
too
much
time
talking
,
talking
.
You
are
different
to-day
,
Sorbet
.
What
is
it
?
If
you
have
met
somebody
else
—
—
”
“
If
I
had
I’d
tell
you
.
There
is
besides
nobody
else
to
meet
.
You
are
unique
!
”
“
Some
one’s
been
saying
something
to
you
—
—
”
“
No.
I’ve
been
saying
something
to
somebody
else
.
But
it’s
the
same
thing
.
”
With
half-incredulous
,
musing
,
glimmering
stare
she
drew
in
her
horns
.
Tarr
meditated
.
“
I
should
have
known
that
.
I
am
asking
her
for
something
that
she
sees
no
reason
to
give
up
.
Next
her
gout
for
me
,
it
is
the
most
valuable
thing
she
possesses
.
It
is
indissolubly
mixed
up
with
the
gout
.
The
poor
heightened
self
she
laces
herself
into
is
the
only
consolation
for
me
and
all
the
troubles
I
spring
on
her
.
And
I
ask
her
brutally
to
‘
come
down
from
her
pedestal.’
I
owe
even
a
good
deal
to
that
pedestal
,
I
expect
,
as
regards
her
gout
.
This
blessed
protection
Nature
has
given
her
,
I
,
a
minute
or
two
before
leaving
her
,
make
a
last
inept
attempt
to
capture
or
destroy
.
Her
good
sense
is
contemptuous
and
indignant
.
It
is
only
in
defence
of
this
ridiculous
sentimentality
that
she
has
ever
shown
her
teeth
.
This
illusion
has
enabled
her
to
bear
things
so
long
.
It
now
stands
ready
with
Indian
impassibility
to
manoeuvre
her
over
the
falls
or
rapids
of
Parting
.
The
scientific
thing
to
do
,
I
suppose
,
my
intention
being
generous
,
would
be
to
flatter
and
increase
in
some
way
this
idea
of
herself
.
I
should
give
her
some
final
and
extraordinary
opportunity
of
being
‘
noble.’
”
He
looked
at
her
a
moment
,
in
search
of
inspiration
.
“
I
must
not
be
too
vain
.
I
exaggerate
the
gravity
of
the
hit
.
As
to
my
attempted
rape
—
see
how
I
square
up
when
she
shows
signs
of
annexing
my
illusion
.
We
are
really
the
whole
time
playing
a
game
of
grabs
and
dashes
at
each
other’s
fairy
vestment
of
Imagination
.
Only
hers
makes
her
very
fond
of
me
,
whereas
mine
makes
me
see
any
one
but
her
.
Perhaps
this
is
why
I
have
not
been
more
energetic
in
my
prosecution
of
the
game
,
and
have
allowed
her
to
remain
in
her
savage
semi-naked
state
of
pristine
balderdash
.
Why
has
she
never
tried
to
modify
herself
in
direction
of
my
‘
taste
’
?
From
not
daring
to
leave
this
protective
fanciful
self
,
while
I
still
kept
all
my
weapons
?
Then
her
initiative
.
She
does
nothing
it
is
the
man’s
place
to
do
.
She
remains
‘
woman
’
as
she
would
say
.
Only
she
is
so
intensely
alive
in
her
passivity
,
so
maelstromlike
in
her
surrender
,
so
cataclysmic
in
her
sacrifice
,
that
very
little
remains
to
be
done
.
The
man’s
position
is
a
mere
sinecure
.
Her
charm
for
me
.
”
To
cover
reflection
,
he
set
himself
to
finish
lunch
.
The
strawberries
were
devoured
mechanically
,
with
unhungry
itch
to
clear
the
plate
.
He
had
become
just
a
devouring-machine
,
restless
if
any
of
the
little
red
balls
still
remained
in
front
of
it
.
Bertha’s
eyes
sought
to
carry
her
out
of
this
Present
.
But
they
had
broken
down
,
depositing
her
,
so
to
speak
,
somewhere
half-way
down
the
avenue
.
Tarr
got
up
,
a
released
automaton
,
and
walked
to
the
cloth-covered
box
where
he
had
left
his
hat
and
stick
.
Then
he
returned
in
some
way
dutifully
and
obediently
to
the
same
seat
,
sat
there
for
a
minute
,
hat
on
knee
.
He
had
gone
over
and
taken
it
up
without
thinking
.
He
only
realized
,
once
back
,
what
it
meant
.
Nothing
was
settled
,
he
had
so
far
done
more
harm
than
good
.
The
presence
of
the
hat
and
stick
on
his
knees
,
however
,
was
like
the
holding
open
of
the
front
door
already
.
Anything
said
with
them
there
could
only
be
like
words
said
as
an
afterthought
,
on
the
threshold
.
It
was
as
though
,
hat
on
head
,
he
were
standing
with
his
hand
on
the
door-knob
,
about
to
add
some
trifle
to
a
thing
already
fixed
.
He
got
up
,
walked
back
to
where
he
had
picked
up
the
hat
and
stick
,
placed
them
as
they
were
before
,
then
returned
to
the
window
.
What
should
be
done
now
?
He
seemed
to
have
played
all
his
fifty-two
cards
.
Everything
to
“
be
done
”
looked
behind
him
,
not
awaiting
him
at
all
.
That
passive
pose
of
Bertha’s
was
not
encouraging
.
It
had
lately
withstood
stoically
a
good
deal
,
was
quite
ready
to
absorb
still
more
.
There
was
something
almost
pugnacious
in
so
much
resignation
.
But
when
she
looked
up
at
him
there
was
no
sign
of
combat
.
She
appeared
stilled
to
something
simple
again
,
by
some
fluke
of
a
word
.
For
the
second
time
that
day
she
had
jumped
out
of
her
skin
.
Her
heart
beat
in
a
delicate
,
exhausted
way
,
her
eyelids
became
moistened
underneath
,
as
she
turned
so
her
unusual
fiancé
They
had
wandered
,
she
felt
,
into
a
drift
of
silence
that
hid
a
distant
and
unpleasant
prospect
at
the
end
of
it
.
It
seemed
suddenly
charged
with
some
alarming
fancy
that
she
could
not
grasp
.
There
was
something
more
unusual
than
her
fiancé
The
circular
storm
,
in
her
case
,
was
returning
.
“
Well
,
Sorbet
?
”
“
Well
.
What
is
it
?
”
“
Why
don’t
you
go
?
I
thought
you’d
gone
.
It
seems
so
funny
to
see
you
standing
there
.
What
are
you
staring
at
me
for
?
”
“
Don’t
be
silly
.
”
She
looked
down
with
a
wild
demureness
,
her
head
on
one
side
.
Her
mouth
felt
some
distance
from
her
brain
.
Her
voice
stood
on
tiptoe
like
a
dwarf
to
speak
.
She
became
very
much
impressed
by
her
voice
,
and
was
rather
afraid
to
say
anything
more
.
Had
she
fainted
?
Sorbert
was
a
stranger
.
The
black
stubble
on
his
chin
and
brown
neck
appeared
like
the
symptoms
of
a
disease
that
repelled
her
.
She
noticed
something
criminal
and
quick
in
his
eyes
.
She
became
nervous
,
as
though
she
had
admitted
somebody
too
trustingly
to
her
rooms
.
This
fancy
played
on
her
hysteria
,
and
she
really
wanted
him
to
go
.
“
Why
don’t
you
go
?
”
she
repeated
,
in
a
pleasant
voice
.
Tarr
remained
silent
,
seemingly
determined
not
to
answer
.
Meantime
he
looked
at
her
with
a
doubtful
dislike
.
What
is
love
?
he
began
reasoning
.
It
is
either
possession
or
a
possessive
madness
.
In
the
case
of
men
and
women
,
it
is
the
obsession
of
a
personality
.
He
had
presumably
been
endowed
with
the
power
of
awaking
love
in
her
.
He
had
something
to
accuse
himself
of
.
He
had
been
afraid
of
giving
up
or
repudiating
this
particular
madness
.
To
give
up
another
person’s
love
is
a
mild
suicide
;
like
a
very
bad
inoculation
as
compared
to
the
full
disease
.
His
tenderness
for
Bertha
was
due
to
her
having
purloined
some
part
of
himself
,
and
covered
herself
superficially
with
it
as
a
shield
.
Her
skin
at
least
was
Tarr
.
She
had
captured
a
bit
of
him
,
and
held
it
as
a
hostage
.
She
was
rapidly
transforming
herself
,
too
,
into
a
slavish
dependency
.
She
worked
with
all
the
hypocrisy
of
a
great
instinct
.
People
can
wound
by
loving
;
the
sympathy
of
this
affection
is
interpenetrative
.
Love
performs
its
natural
miracle
,
and
they
become
part
of
us
;
it
is
a
dismemberment
to
cast
them
off
.
Our
own
blood
flows
out
after
them
when
they
go
.
Or
love
was
a
malady
;
it
was
dangerous
to
live
with
those
consumed
by
it
.
He
felt
an
uneasiness
.
Might
not
a
wasting
and
restlessness
ensue
?
It
would
not
,
if
he
caught
it
,
be
recognizable
as
love
.
Perhaps
he
had
already
got
it
slightly
.
That
might
account
for
his
hanging
about
her
.
He
evidently
was
suffering
from
something
that
came
from
Bertha
.
Everybody
,
however
,
all
personality
,
was
catching
.
We
all
are
sicknesses
for
each
other
.
Such
contact
as
he
had
with
Bertha
was
particularly
risky
.
Their
photographs
he
had
just
been
looking
at
displayed
an
unpleasant
solidarity
.
Was
it
necessary
to
allege
“
love
”
at
all
?
The
word
was
superfluous
in
his
case
.
The
fact
was
before
him
.
He
felt
suddenly
despondent
and
afraid
of
the
Future
.
He
had
fallen
beneath
a
more
immediate
infection
.
He
looked
attentively
round
the
room
.
His
memory
already
ached
.
She
had
loved
him
with
all
this
.
She
had
loved
him
with
the
plaster
cast
of
Beethoven
,
attacked
him
with
the
Klingers
,
ambushed
him
from
the
Breton
jars
,
in
a
funny
,
superficial
,
absorbing
way
.
Her
madness
had
muddled
everything
with
his
ideal
existence
.
It
wasn’t
like
leaving
an
ordinary
room
you
had
spent
pleasant
hours
in
and
would
regret
.
You
would
owe
nothing
to
that
,
and
it
could
not
pursue
you
with
images
of
wrong
.
This
room
he
was
wronging
,
and
left
it
in
a
different
way
.
She
seemed
,
too
,
so
humble
in
it
,
or
through
it
.
The
appeal
of
the
little
again
.
If
he
could
only
escape
from
scale
.
The
price
of
preoccupation
with
the
large
was
this
perpetual
danger
from
the
little
.
He
wished
he
could
look
coldly
on
mere
littleness
,
and
not
want
to
caress
and
protect
it
when
it
was
human
.
Brutality
was
no
doubt
necessary
for
people
like
him
.
Love
was
too
new
to
him
.
He
was
not
inoculated
enough
with
love
.
He
had
callously
been
signing
his
name
to
a
series
of
brutalities
,
then
,
as
though
he
were
sure
that
when
the
time
came
he
would
have
a
quite
sufficient
stock
of
coldness
to
meet
these
debts
.
Yet
he
had
known
from
the
first
that
he
had
not
.
Eventually
he
would
have
to
evade
them
or
succumb
.
The
flourishes
of
the
hand
and
mind
had
caused
Bertha’s
mute
and
mournful
attitude
.
She
thought
she
knew
him
,
but
was
amazed
at
his
ignorance
or
pretence
.
So
he
had
now
brought
this
new
element
into
relief
.
For
the
last
hour
he
had
been
accumulating
difficulties
,
or
rather
unearthing
some
new
one
at
every
step
.
Impossible
to
tackle
en
masse
,
they
were
all
there
before
him
.
The
thought
of
“
settling
everything
before
he
went
,
”
now
appeared
monstrous
.
He
had
,
anyhow
,
started
these
local
monsters
and
demons
,
fishing
them
to
the
light
.
Each
had
a
different
vocal
explosiveness
or
murmur
,
inveighing
unintelligibly
against
each
other
.
The
only
thing
to
be
done
was
to
herd
them
all
together
and
march
them
away
for
inspection
at
leisure
.
Sudden
herdsman
,
with
the
care
of
a
delicate
and
antediluvian
flock
;
well
!
—
But
what
was
Bertha
to
be
told
?
Nothing
.
He
would
file
out
silently
with
his
flock
,
without
any
hornblasts
or
windings
such
as
he
customarily
affected
.
“
I
am
going
now
,
”
he
said
at
last
,
getting
up
.
She
looked
at
him
with
startled
interest
.
“
You
are
leaving
me
,
Sorbet
?
”
“
No.
At
least
,
now
I
am
going
.
”
He
stooped
down
for
his
hat
and
cane
.
“
I
will
come
and
see
you
to-morrow
or
the
day
after
.
”
Closing
the
door
quietly
,
with
a
petty
carefulness
,
he
crossed
the
passage
,
belittled
and
guilty
.
He
did
not
wish
to
escape
this
feeling
.
It
would
be
better
to
enhance
it
.
For
a
moment
it
occurred
to
him
to
go
back
and
offer
marriage
.
It
was
about
all
he
had
to
offer
.
He
was
ashamed
of
his
only
gift
!
But
he
did
not
stop
,
he
opened
the
front
door
and
went
downstairs
.
Something
raw
and
uncertain
he
seemed
to
have
built
up
in
the
room
he
had
left
.
How
long
would
it
hold
together
?
Again
he
was
acting
in
secret
,
his
errand
and
intentions
kept
to
himself
.
Something
followed
him
like
a
restless
dog
.
PART
II
DOOMED
,
EVIDENTLY
.
THE
“
FRAC
”
CHAPTER
I
From
his
window
in
the
neighbouring
boulevard
Kreisler’s
eye
was
fixed
blankly
on
a
spot
thirty
feet
above
the
scene
of
the
Hobson-Tarr
dialogue
.
He
was
shaving
himself
,
one
eye
fixed
on
Paris
.
It
beat
on
this
wall
of
Paris
drearily
.
Had
it
been
endowed
with
properties
of
illumination
and
been
directed
there
earlier
in
the
day
,
it
would
have
served
as
a
desolate
halo
for
Tarr’s
ratiocination
.
For
several
days
Kreisler’s
watch
had
been
in
the
Mont
de
Piété
.
Until
some
clock
struck
he
was
in
total
ignorance
of
the
time
of
day
.
The
late
spring
sunshine
flooded
,
like
a
bursted
tepid
star
,
the
pink
boulevard
.
The
people
beneath
crawled
like
wounded
insects
of
cloth
.
A
two-story
house
terminating
the
Boulevard
Pfeiffer
covered
the
lower
part
of
the
Cafe
Berne
.
Kreisler’s
room
looked
like
some
funeral
vault
.
Shallow
,
ill-lighted
,
and
extensive
,
it
was
placarded
with
nude
and
archaic
images
,
painted
on
strips
of
canvas
fixed
to
the
wall
with
drawing-pins
.
Imagining
yourself
in
some
Asiatic
dwelling
of
the
dead
,
with
the
portraits
of
the
deceased
covering
the
holes
in
which
they
had
respectively
been
thrust
,
you
would
,
following
your
fancy
,
have
turned
to
Kreisler
seeking
to
see
in
him
some
devout
recluse
who
had
taken
up
his
quarters
there
.
Kreisler
was
in
a
sense
a
recluse
(
although
almost
certainly
the
fancy
would
have
gasped
and
fallen
at
his
contact
)
.
But
cafés
were
the
luminous
caverns
where
he
could
be
said
,
most
generally
,
to
dwell
;
with
,
nevertheless
,
very
little
opening
of
the
lips
and
much
recueillement
or
meditation
;
therefore
not
unworthy
of
some
rank
among
the
inferior
and
less
fervent
solitudes
.
A
bed
like
an
overturned
cupboard
,
dark
,
and
with
a
red
billow
of
cloth
and
feathers
covering
it
entirely
;
a
tesselated
floor
of
dark
red
tile
;
a
little
rug
,
made
with
paint
,
carpet
,
cardboard
,
and
horsehair
,
to
represent
a
leopard
—
these
,
with
chair
,
washstand
,
easel
,
and
several
weeks’
of
slowly
drifting
and
shifting
garbage
,
completed
its
contents
.
Kreisler
flicked
the
lather
on
to
a
crumpled
newspaper
,
with
an
irresponsible
gesture
.
Each
time
his
razor
was
raised
he
looked
at
himself
with
a
peering
vacancy
.
His
face
had
long
become
a
piece
of
troublesome
meat
.
Life
did
not
each
day
deposit
an
untidiness
that
could
be
whisked
off
by
a
Gillette
blade
,
as
Nature
did
its
stubble
.
His
face
,
it
is
true
,
wore
like
a
uniform
the
frowning
fixity
of
the
Prussian
warrior
.
But
it
was
such
a
rig-out
as
the
Captain
of
Koepenich
must
have
worn
,
and
would
take
in
nobody
but
a
Teutonic
squad
.
The
true
German
seeks
every
day
,
by
little
acts
of
boorishness
,
to
keep
fresh
this
trenchant
Prussian
attitude
;
just
as
the
German
student
,
with
his
weekly
routine
of
duels
,
keeps
courage
simmering
in
times
of
peace
,
that
it
may
instantly
boil
up
to
war
pitch
at
the
least
sign
from
his
Emperor
.
He
brushed
his
clothes
in
a
sulky
,
vigorous
way
,
like
a
silent
,
discontented
domestic
of
a
shabby
,
lonely
master
.
He
cleaned
his
glasses
with
the
absorption
and
tenderness
of
the
short-sighted
.
Next
moment
he
was
gazing
through
them
,
straddled
on
his
flat
Slav
nose
—
brushing
up
whimsical
moustaches
over
pouting
mouth
.
This
was
done
with
two
tiny
ivory
brushes
taken
out
of
a
small
leather
case
—
present
from
a
fiancee
who
had
been
alarmed
that
his
moustaches
showed
an
unpatriotic
tendency
to
droop
.
This
old
sweetheart
just
then
disagreeably
occupied
his
mind
.
But
he
busied
himself
about
further
items
of
toilet
with
increased
precision
.
To
a
knock
he
answered
with
careful
“
Come
in
.
”
He
did
not
take
his
eyes
from
the
glass
,
spotted
blue
tie
being
pinched
into
position
.
He
watched
with
impassibility
above
and
around
his
tie
the
entrance
of
a
young
woman
.
“
Good
morning
.
So
you’re
up
already
,
”
she
said
in
French
.
He
treated
her
as
coolly
as
he
had
his
thoughts
.
Appearing
just
then
,
she
gave
his
manner
towards
the
latter
something
human
to
play
on
,
with
relief
.
Imparting
swanlike
undulations
to
a
short
stout
person
,
eye
fixed
quizzingly
on
Kreisler’s
in
the
glass
,
she
advanced
.
Her
manner
was
one
seldom
sure
of
welcome
,
a
little
deprecatingly
aggressive
.
She
owned
humorously
a
good-natured
face
with
protruding
eyes
,
gesticulated
with
,
filling
her
silences
with
explosive
significance
.
Brows
always
raised
.
A
soul
made
after
the
image
of
injuries
.
A
skin
which
would
become
easily
blue
in
cold
weather
was
matched
with
a
taste
in
dress
inveterately
blue
.
The
Pas
de
Calais
had
somehow
produced
her
.
Paris
,
shortly
afterwards
,
had
put
the
mark
of
its
necessitous
millions
on
a
mean
,
lively
child
.
“
Are
you
going
to
work
to-day
?
”
came
in
a
minute
or
two
.
“
No
,
”
he
replied
,
putting
his
jacket
on
.
“
Do
you
want
me
to
?
”
“
It
would
be
of
certain
use
.
But
don’t
put
yourself
out
,
”
with
grin
tightening
all
the
skin
of
her
face
,
making
it
pink
and
bald
and
her
eyes
drunken
.
“
I’m
afraid
I
can’t
.
”
Watched
with
sort
of
appreciative
raillery
,
he
got
down
on
his
knees
and
dragged
a
portmanteau
from
beneath
the
bed
.
“
Susanna
,
what
can
I
get
on
that
?
”
he
asked
simply
,
as
of
an
expert
.
“
Ah
,
that’s
where
we
are
?
You
want
to
pawn
this
?
I
don’t
know
,
I’m
sure
.
Perhaps
they’d
give
you
fifteen
francs
.
It’s
good
leather
.
”
“
Perhaps
twenty
?
”
he
asked
.
“
I
must
have
them
!
”
he
clamoured
of
a
sudden
,
with
energy
that
astonished
her
.
She
grimaced
,
looked
very
serious
:
said
,
“
Je
ne
sais
pas
,
vous
savez
!
”
with
several
vigorous
,
yet
rhythmical
and
rich
,
forward
movements
of
the
head
.
She
became
the
broker
:
Kreisler
was
pressing
for
a
sum
in
excess
of
regulations
.
Not
for
the
world
,
any
more
than
had
she
been
the
broker
in
fact
,
would
she
have
valued
it
at
a
penny
over
what
it
seemed
likely
to
fetch
.
“
Je
ne
sais
pas
,
vous
savez
!
”
she
repeated
.
She
looked
even
worried
.
She
would
have
liked
to
please
Kreisler
by
saying
more
,
but
her
business
conscience
prevented
her
.
“
Well
,
we’ll
go
together
.
”
This
conversation
was
carried
on
strictly
in
dialect
.
Suzanne
understood
him
,
for
she
was
largely
responsible
for
the
lingo
in
which
Kreisler
carried
on
conversation
with
the
French
.
This
young
woman
had
no
fixed
occupation
.
She
disappeared
for
periods
to
live
with
men
.
She
sat
as
a
model
.
“
Your
father
hasn’t
sent
yet
?
”
He
shook
his
head
.
“
Le
cochon
!
”
she
stuttered
.
“
But
it
will
come
to-morrow
,
or
the
day
after
,
anyway
.
”
The
idiosyncrasies
of
these
monthly
letters
were
quite
familiar
to
her
.
The
dress-clothes
had
been
pawned
by
her
on
a
former
occasion
.
“
What
do
you
need
twenty
francs
for
?
”
“
I
must
have
,
not
twenty
,
but
twenty-five
.
”
Her
silence
was
as
eloquent
as
face-muscles
and
eye-fluid
could
make
it
.
“
To
get
the
dress-clothes
out
,
”
he
explained
,
fixing
her
stolidly
with
his
eye
.
She
first
smiled
slowly
,
then
allowed
her
ready
mirth
to
grow
,
by
mechanical
stages
,
into
laughter
.
The
presence
of
this
small
,
indifferent
,
and
mercenary
acquaintance
irritated
him
.
But
he
remained
cool
.
Just
then
a
church
clock
began
striking
.
He
foreboded
it
was
already
ten
,
but
not
later
.
It
struck
ten
and
then
eleven
.
He
leapt
the
hour
—
the
clock
seemed
rushing
with
him
,
in
a
second
,
to
the
more
advanced
hour
—
without
any
flurry
,
quite
calmly
.
Then
it
struck
twelve
.
He
at
once
absorbed
that
further
hour
as
he
had
the
former
.
He
lived
an
hour
as
easily
and
carelessly
as
he
would
have
lived
a
second
.
Could
it
have
gone
on
striking
he
would
have
swallowed
,
without
turning
a
hair
,
twenty
,
thirty
strokes
!
Going
out
with
Suzanne
,
he
turned
the
key
carefully
in
the
door
.
The
concierge
or
landlord
might
slip
in
and
fire
his
things
out
in
his
absence
.
The
portmanteau
,
whisked
up
from
the
floor
,
flopped
along
with
him
like
a
child’s
slack
balloon
.
He
frowned
at
Suzanne
and
,
prepared
for
surprises
,
went
warily
down
the
stairs
.
He
had
felt
a
raw
twinge
of
anger
as
he
had
opened
the
door
,
looking
down
at
the
first
boards
of
his
room
.
A
half
an
hour
before
,
on
waking
,
he
had
sat
up
in
bed
and
gazed
at
the
crevice
at
its
foot
where
a
letter
,
thrust
underneath
by
the
concierge
,
usually
lay
.
He
had
stared
as
though
it
had
been
a
shock
to
find
nothing
.
That
little
square
of
rich
bright
white
paper
was
what
he
had
counted
on
night
to
give
him
—
that
he
had
expected
to
find
on
waking
,
as
though
it
were
a
secretion
of
those
long
hours
.
It
made
him
feel
that
there
had
been
no
night
—
long
,
fecund
,
rich
in
surprises
—
but
merely
a
barren
moment
of
sleep
.
A
stale
and
garish
continuation
of
yesterday
,
no
fresh
day
at
all
,
had
dawned
.
The
chill
and
phlegmatic
appearance
of
his
room
annoyed
him
.
It
was
its
inhospitable
character
that
repelled
the
envelope
pregnant
with
revolutionary
joy
and
serried
German
marks
.
Its
dead
unchangeableness
must
preclude
all
innovation
.
This
spell
of
monotony
on
his
life
he
could
not
break
.
The
room
cut
him
off
from
the
world
.
He
gazed
around
as
a
man
may
eye
a
wife
whom
he
suspects
of
intercepting
his
correspondence
.
There
was
no
reason
why
the
letter
with
his
monthly
remittance
should
,
have
come
on
that
particular
morning
,
already
eight
days
overdue
.
“
If
I
had
a
father
like
yours
!
”
said
Suzanne
in
menacing
,
humorous
sing-song
,
eyes
bulging
and
head
nodding
.
At
this
vista
of
perpetual
blackmail
she
fell
into
a
reverie
.
“
Never
get
your
father
off
on
your
fianceée
,
Suzanne
!
”
Kreisler
advised
in
reply
.
“
Comment
?
”
Suzanne
did
not
understand
,
and
pulled
a
sour
face
.
“
I
had
a
fiancée
.
”
“
Oui
.
Très
bien
.
Tu
t’es
brouillé
avec
elle
?
”
“
I
have
quarrelled
with
her
;
yes
.
She
married
my
father
.
Or
I
married
her
,
I
may
say
,
to
my
father
.
That
was
a
mistake
.
”
“
I
believe
you
!
That
,
as
you
say
,
was
careless
!
You
don’t
get
on
well
with
her
?
”
“
I
never
see
her
.
”
“
You
never
go
home
?
”
Kreisler
was
too
proud
to
reply
to
Suzanne
very
often
.
He
marched
on
,
staring
severely
ahead
.
“
How
long
ago
is
it
that
you
—
how
long
have
you
had
that
stepmother
?
”
“
My
father
married
four
years
ago
.
”
“
Married
your
—
girl
—
—
?
”
“
That’s
it
.
”
“
And
that’s
why
you
have
trouble
?
She
makes
the
trouble
.
She
is
at
the
bottom
of
the
trouble
?
Ah
!
You
never
told
me
that
.
Now
I
understand
why
.
What’s
she
like
?
Is
she
nice
?
”
“
Not
bad
.
”
They
got
near
the
Berne
.
“
Let’s
have
a
cup
of
coffee
,
”
Kreisler
said
.
Suzanne
sat
down
—
with
the
hiding
of
her
red
hands
,
her
guilty
lofty
silence
,
eyebrows
raised
as
though
with
a
slimy
pescine
enamel
,
inducing
an
impression
of
nefarious
hurry
and
impermanence
.
Kreisler
was
sour
and
full
of
himself
.
His
bag
looked
as
though
it
should
hold
the
properties
or
merchandise
of
some
illicit
trade
or
amusement
.
Suzanne
seemed
to
triumph
at
this
information
.
She
pressed
and
pressed
in
breathless
undertone
,
fascinated
by
something
.
Family
dramas
,
of
all
dramas
,
she
had
the
expertest
interest
in
.
“
You
remember
the
time
I
had
to
send
three
letters
to
the
old
devil
—
—
?
”
“
Of
course
!
Three
months
ago
,
you
mean
?
”
Suzanne
had
taken
a
near
and
serious
interest
in
Otto’s
financial
arrangements
.
She
remembered
dates
well
,
apart
from
that
.
Otto
did
not
proceed
for
some
time
.
She
stared
quizzingly
and
patiently
past
the
tip
of
his
nose
.
“
He
then
asked
me
to
give
up
art
.
He
told
me
of
two
posts
in
German
firms
that
were
vacant
.
That
was
her
doing
,
the
swine
!
One
was
a
station
restaurant
business
.
”
“
You
refused
!
”
“
I
didn’t
reply
at
all
.
”
In
this
his
methods
were
very
similar
to
his
father’s
.
The
elder
Kreisler
had
repeatedly
infuriated
his
son
,
calculating
on
such
effect
,
by
sending
his
allowance
only
when
written
for
,
and
even
then
neglecting
his
appeal
for
several
days
.
It
came
frequently
wrapped
up
in
bits
of
newspapers
,
and
his
letters
of
demand
and
expostulation
were
never
answered
.
On
two
occasions
forty
marks
and
thirty
marks
respectively
.had
been
deducted
,
merely
as
an
irritative
measure
.
“
Dites
!
Why
don’t
you
write
to
your
stepmother
?
”
“
Write
to
her
?
No
,
I
won’t
write
to
her
.
”
“
P’raps
she
wants
you
to
.
I
should
.
Why
don’t
you
write
to
her
?
”
“
I
shall
before
—
I
shall
some
day
!
”
“
Before
what
?
”
“
Oh
,
before
—
”
Suzanne
once
more
glimmered
into
the
absurd
distance
.
“
He
will
send
,
I
suppose
?
”
“
Now
—
?
Yes
,
I
suppose
sooner
or
later
it
will
turn
up
.
”
“
If
it
didn’t
what
would
you
do
?
You
think
it’s
your
stepmother
who
does
it
?
Why
don’t
you
manage
her
?
You
are
stupid
.
You
must
allow
me
to
tell
you
that
.
”
Kreisler
knew
the
end
was
not
far
off
;
this
might
be
it
.
So
much
the
better
!
Kreisler’s
student
days
—
a
lifetime
in
itself
—
had
unfitted
him
,
at
the
age
of
thirty-six
,
for
practically
anything
.
He
had
only
lost
one
picture
so
far
.
This
senseless
solitary
purchase
depressed
him
whenever
he
thought
of
it
.
How
dreary
that
cheque
for
four
pounds
ten
was
!
Who
could
have
bought
it
?
It
sold
joylessly
and
fatally
one
day
in
an
exhibition
.
CHAPTER
II
Nine
months
previously
Kreisler
had
arrived
in
Paris
at
the
Gare
de
Lyon
,
from
Italy
.
He
had
left
Rome
,
according
to
his
account
,
because
the
Italian
creditor
is
such
a
bad-tempered
fellow
,
and
he
could
never
get
any
sleep
after
8
—
or
latterly
7.30
—
even
,
in
the
morning
.
“
Dear
Colleague
,
—
Expect
me
Thursday
.
I
am
at
last
quitting
this
wretched
city
.
I
hope
that
the
room
you
mentioned
is
still
free
.
Will
come
at
once
to
your
address
.
With
many
hearty
greetings
,
—
Yours
,
Otto
Kreisler
.
”
He
had
dispatched
this
note
before
leaving
to
a
Herr
Ernst
Volker
.
—
For
some
time
he
stood
on
the
Paris
platform
,
ulster
thrown
back
,
smoking
a
lean
cigar
,
with
a
straw
stuck
in
it
.
He
was
glad
to
be
in
Paris
.
How
busy
the
women
,
intent
on
travel
,
were
!
Groups
of
town-folk
,
not
travellers
,
stood
like
people
at
a
show
.
Each
traveller
was
met
by
a
phalanx
of
uninterested
faces
beyond
the
gangway
.
His
standing
on
the
platform
was
a
little
ceremonious
and
military
.
He
was
taking
his
bearings
.
Body
and
belongings
with
him
were
always
moved
about
with
certain
strategy
.
At
last
,
with
racial
menace
,
he
had
his
things
swept
together
,
saying
heavily
:
’
“
Un
viagre
!
”
Ernst
Volker
was
not
in
,
but
had
left
word
he
would
be
there
after
dinner
.
It
was
in
a
pension
.
He
rented
a
studio
as
well
in
the
garden
behind
.
The
house
was
rather
like
a
French
Public
Baths
,
twostoried
,
of
a
dirty
purple
colour
.
Kreisler
looked
up
at
it
and
felt
that
a
very
public
sort
of
people
must
live
there
,
looking
big
and
idle
in
their
rooms
and
constantly
catching
the
eye
of
the
stranger
on
the
pavement
.
He
was
led
to
the
studio
in
rear
of
the
house
,
and
asked
to
wait
.
He
turned
round
several
long
canvases
and
was
astonished
to
find
dashing
ladies
in
large
hats
before
him
.
“
Ha
ha
!
Well
,
I’m
damned
!
Bravo
,
Ernst
!
”
he
exploded
in
his
dull
solitude
,
extremely
amused
.
Volker
had
not
done
this
in
Rome
.
—
Even
there
he
had
given
indications
of
latent
virtuosity
,
but
had
been
curbed
by
classic
presences
.
Since
arriving
in
Paris
he
had
blossomed
prodigiously
.
He
dealt
out
a
vulgar
vitality
by
the
peck
to
each
sitter
,
and
they
forgave
him
for
making
them
comparatively
“
ugly
.
”
He
flung
a
man
or
woman
on
to
nine
feet
of
canvas
and
pummelled
them
on
it
for
a
couple
of
hours
,
until
they
promised
to
remain
there
or
were
incapable
of
moving
,
so
to
speak
.
He
had
never
been
able
to
treat
people
like
this
in
any
other
way
of
life
,
and
was
grateful
to
painting
for
the
experience
.
He
always
appeared
to
feel
he
would
be
expected
to
apologize
for
his
brutal
behaviour
as
an
artist
,
and
was
determined
not
to
do
so
.
A
half-hour
later
,
on
his
return
,
the
servant
told
him
somebody
was
waiting
in
the
studio
.
With
face
not
exhibiting
joyful
surprise
,
but
rather
the
collected
look
of
a
man
of
business
arriving
at
his
office
,
he
walked
out
quickly
across
the
garden
.
When
he
saw
Kreisler
the
business
look
disappeared
.
Nothing
of
his
private
self
remained
for
the
moment
,
all
engulfed
in
his
friend’s
personality
.
“
But
,
Ernst
!
What
beautiful
pictures
!
What
pleasant
company
you
left
me
to
wait
amongst
!
—
How
are
you
?
I
am
glad
to
see
you
again
!
”
“
Had
a
good
journey
?
Your
letter
amused
me
!
—
So
Rome
became
too
hot
?
”
“
A
little
!
My
dear
chap
,
it
was
eine
ganz
ver-dammte
klemme
!
In
this
last
scuffle
I
lost
—
but
I
lost
!
—
half
the
clothes
off
my
back
!
But
chiefly
Italian
clothes
;
that
is
fortunate
!
”
“
Why
didn’t
you
write
?
”
“
Oh
,
it
wasn’t
serious
enough
to
call
for
help
.
”
He
dismissed
the
out-of-date
notion
at
once
!
—
“
This
is
a
nice
place
you’ve
got
.
”
—
Kreisler
looked
round
as
though
measuring
it
.
He
noticed
Volker’s
discomfort
.
He
felt
he
was
examining
something
more
intimate
than
the
public
aspect
of
a
dwelling
.
It
was
as
though
his
friend
were
expecting
a
wife
,
whom
Kreisler
had
not
met
,
to
turn
up
suddenly
.
“
Have
you
dined
?
—
I
waited
until
eight
.
Have
you
.
.
.
?
”
“
I
should
like
something
to
eat
.
Can
we
get
anything
here
?
”
“
I’m
afraid
not
.
—
It’s
rather
late
for
this
neighbourhood
.
Let’s
take
these
things
to
your
room
—
on
the
way
—
and
go
to
the
Grands
Boulevards
.
”
They
stayed
till
the
small
hours
of
the
morning
,
in
the
midst
of
“
Paris
by
Night
”
of
the
German
bourgeois
imagination
,
drinking
champagne
and
toasting
the
creditors
Kreisler
had
left
behind
in
Rome
.
Kreisler
,
measured
by
chairs
or
doors
,
was
of
immoderate
physical
humanity
.
He
was
of
that
select
section
,
corporally
,
that
exceed
the
mean
.
His
long
round
thighs
stuck
out
like
poles
.
This
large
body
lounged
and
poised
beside
Volker
in
massive
