he was very young and newly fledged. Therefore I held my peace, and
restricted my conversation to things military, of which I know probably
less than any other woman in Germany, so that my remarks must have been
to an unusual degree impressive. He talked down to me, and I talked down
to him, and we reached home in a state of profoundest exhaustion--at
least I know I did, but when I looked at him he had not visibly turned a
hair. I went upstairs trying to hope that he had felt it more than he
showed, and that during the remainder of his stay he would adopt the
suggestion so eagerly offered of spending his spare time in his room
resting.
At dinner, he and I, quite by ourselves, were both manifestly convinced
of the necessity, for the sake of the servants, of not letting the
conversation drop. I felt desperate, and would have said anything sooner
than sit opposite him in silence, and with united efforts we got through
that fairly well. After dinner I tried gossip, and encouraged him to
tell me some, but he had such an unnatural number of relations that
whoever I began to talk about happened to be his cousin, or his brother-
in-law, or his aunt, as he hastily informed me, so that what I had
intended to say had to be turned immediately into loud and unqualified
praise; and praising people is frightfully hard work--you give yourself
the greatest pains over it, and are aware all the time that it is not in
the very least carrying conviction. Does not everybody know that one's
natural impulse is to tear the absent limb from limb? At half-past nine
I got up, worn out in mind and body, and told him very firmly that it
had been a custom in my family from time immemorial to be in bed by ten,
and that I was accordingly going there. He looked surprised and wider
awake than ever, but nothing shook me, and I walked away, leaving him
standing on the hearthrug after the manner of my countrymen, who never
dream of opening a door for a woman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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