Europe -- Social conditions -- 20th century -- Fiction; Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 20th century -- Fiction; Love stories
To my interruption, which she did not hear, she said: “I have only one
lover. But I know that only because I always feel unfaithful to him. It
would be good to be really bad, but I am not even that. I only
misbehave. I will see you again, when I have found my only love. Or I
will see you again when I am qualified to die for purity. I will let you
know, so you can be there. God bless you, dear.”
And I said what I said, that He had, with Iris Storm.
She went very white. “That shall be written down,” she whispered, “as
the prayer of the only man who ever shamed a woman of her shame.”
“My days of adventure, Iris Storm, are over. A few years ago it would
have seemed nothing to me that you should disappear as you came, into
the great hole of London. To experts in adventure that is, I think, the
usual procedure. But now I would like a trace of you. You must not leave
me, quite. If I may not see you again, mayn’t I perhaps talk to you? Or,
what is the main thing, feel that I could if I dared?”
She said she was in London now only on business that would last a few
weeks, and lived always abroad. “But this is the telephone-number,” she
said, and I was looking round for paper and pencil when she said “Here!”
and her leather arm darted to the floor and came up with a book, and on
the fly-leaf of the book she scrawled the number with her lip-stick.
High above the sharp noises of the young day I heard the scream of an
electric-horn.
CHAPTER TWO: THE CAVALIER OF LOW CREATURES
I
And that, I think, is all that there really is about me, as a person, in
the tale. Of course, this first person singular will continue, and
there’ll no doubt be any amount of “I this” and “I that,” but that is
because of the nature of the work, and there’s never, the way I see it,
much more than a pen behind it. Hilary, however, and Guy de Travest are
not of my mind about this. We have recently been talking about these
affairs, and a sad enough talk they made, and my two friends, my two
seniors, were reluctantly compelled, they said, to disagree with me
about my lack of responsibility in the events to be related hereinafter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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