The Man Who Lost HimselfStacpoole, H. De Vere (Henry De Vere)
General
The Man Who Lost Himself
Stacpoole, H. De Vere (Henry De Vere)
Mistaken identity -- Fiction
"I want to feel your bumps to see if you have improved--Ju-ju, your head
isn't so flat as it used to be on top. It seems a different shape
somehow, nicer. Blunders is as flat as a pancake on top of his head.
Flatness runs in families I suppose. Look at Venetia's feet! Ju-ju, have
you ever seen her in felt bath slippers?"
"No."
"I have--and a long yellow dressing gown, and her hair on her shoulders
all wet, in rat tails. I'm not a cat, but she makes me feel like one and
talk like one. I want to forget her. Do you remember our honeymoon?"
"Yes."
She had taken his hand and was holding it.
"We were happy then. Let's begin again and let this be our second
honeymoon, and we won't quarrel once--will we?"
"No, we won't," said Jones.
She slipped down into the chair beside him, pulled his arm around her
and held up her lips.
"Now you're kissing me really," she murmured; "you seemed half
frightened before--Ju-ju, I want to make a confession."
"Yes?"
"Well--somebody pretended to care for me very much a little while ago."
"Who was that?"
"Never mind. I went last night to a dance at the Crawleys' and he was
there."
"Yes."
"Yes--is that all you have to say? You don't seem to be very much
interested."
"I am though."
"I don't want you to be too much interested, and go making scenes and
all that--though you couldn't for you don't know his name. Suffice to
tell you--as the books say--he is a very handsome man, much, much
handsomer than you, Ju--Well, listen to me. He asked me to run off with
him."
"Run off with him?"
"Yes--to Spain. We were to go to Paris first and then to Spain--Spain,
at this time of year!"
"What did you say?"
"I said: 'Please don't be stupid.' I'd been reading a novel where a girl
said that to a man who wanted to run off with her--she died at the
end--but that's what she said at first--Fortunate I remembered it."
"Why?"
"Because--because--for a moment I felt inclined to say 'yes.' I know it
was dreadful, but think of my position, you going on like that, and me
all alone with no one to care for me--It's like a crave for drink. I
must have someone to care for me and I thought you didn't--so I nearly
said 'yes.' Once I had said what I did I felt stronger."
"What did he say?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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