France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Why ... don't you know? We have not been on speaking terms for two
months since the time she beat me out of a consul, my dear, an American
Consul, who paid me five thousand a month! Yes, she beat me out of it,
that skinflint did! And how about you? You have made her come down a
peg lower, I hope."
"Ah! I!" I answered, "I am very unhappy! And so a consul is her lover
now!"
Gabrielle relit her extinguished cigarette and shrugged her shoulders.
"Her lover! Do you think women like that can keep a lover! She could
not keep the Lord himself, my dear! Ah, men don't stick to her very
long, I tell you. They come one day and then the next they pitch camp
somewhere else. Well, thanks very much! It's all right to fleece them
but you must do it with your gloves on, don't you think? And you are
still in love with her, poor boy."
"Still--why I am more so than ever! I have done everything to cure
myself of this shameful infatuation which makes me the lowest of men,
which kills me, but I can't. Well now, she is leading a loathsome life,
isn't she?"
"Ah! Well ... that's true," Gabrielle exclaimed, blowing a cloud of
smoke in the air. "You know that I myself don't play the prude. I am
enjoying myself just like everybody else ... but honestly ... I can
swear.... I'd feel ashamed to do what she does!"
With head turned, she was emitting coils of smoke which rose
tremblingly toward the ceiling. And to emphasize what she had just said:
"That's the truth I am telling you," she repeated.
Although I suffered cruelly, although every word of Gabrielle cut my
heart as with a knife, I came up to her and coaxingly:
"Come, my little Gabrielle," I begged her, "tell me all about her!"
"Tell you! ... tell you! Wait now! You know the two Borgsheim brothers
... those two dirty Germans! Well, Juliette, was with both of them at
the same time. I saw that myself, you know! At the same time, mind
you, my dear! One night she said to one of them: 'Ah well! It is you
that I love!' And she led him away. The next day she said to the other:
'No, it is positively you!' And she led him away. And you should have
seen them! Two wretched Prussians who haggled over the bill! And a lot
of other things. But I don't want to tell you anything because I see I
hurt you."
"No!" I exclaimed, "no, Gabrielle, go on, because ... you understand.
After all the disgust ... the disgust...."
I was choking. I burst into sobs.
Gabrielle was trying to console me.
"Come! Come now.... Poor Jean! Don't cry! She does not deserve all this
grief! Such a nice boy as you are! I can't see how that is possible! I
always used to tell her: 'You don't understand him, my dear, you never
did understand him, a man like that is a jewel!' Ah! I know some women
who would be mighty glad to have a man like you ... and who would love
you very much!"
She sat down on my lap and wanted to dry the tears from my eyes. Her
voice became soft and her eyes luminous:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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