'No, you must listen without touching me, I shall go back to the
window. I don't want to influence you a bit by any personal magnetism
I possess. I want you to listen--I have told you he divorced me, the
co-respondent was an old friend, a friend of my childhood, of my
girlhood. He died just after the first application was made, luckily for
me. He would have considered my honour before my happiness. _I_ did not
defend the case, it wasn't likely--ah, if you knew all? He proved his
case; given clever counsel, willing witnesses to whom you make it worth
while, and no defence, divorce is always attainable even in England. But
remember: I figure as an adulteress in every English-speaking paper. If
you buy last week's evening papers--do you remember the day I was in
town?'--I nod--'you will see a sketch of me in that day's; someone,
perhaps he, must have given it; it was from an old photograph. I bought
one at Victoria as I came out; it is funny (with an hysterical laugh) to
buy a caricature of one's own poor face at a news-stall. Yet in spite of
that I have felt glad. The point for you is that I made no defence to
the world, and (with a lifting of her head) I will make no apology, no
explanation, no denial to you, now nor ever. I am very desolate and your
attention came very warm to me, but I don't love you. Perhaps I could
learn to (with a rush of colour), for what you have said tonight, and it
is because of that I tell you to weigh what this means. Later, when your
care for me will grow into habit, you may chafe at my past. It is from
that I would save you.'
I hold out my hands and she comes and puts them aside and takes me by
the beard and turns up my face and scans it earnestly. She must have
been deceived a good deal. I let her do as she pleases, it is the wisest
way with women, and it is good to have her touch me in that way. She
seems satisfied. She stands leaning against the arm of the chair and
says--
'I must learn first to think of myself as a free woman again, it almost
seems wrong today to talk like this; can you understand that feeling?'
I nod assent.
'Next time I must be sure, and you must be sure,' she lays her fingers
on my mouth as I am about to protest, 'S-sh! You shall have a year to
think. If you repeat then what you have said today, I shall give you
your answer. You must not try to find me. I have money. If I am living,
I will come here to you. If I am dead, you will be told of it. In the
year between I shall look upon myself as belonging to you, and render an
account if you wish of every hour. You will not be influenced by me in
any way, and you will be able to reason it out calmly. If you think
better of it, don't come.'
I feel there would be no use trying to move her, I simply kiss her hands
and say:
'As you will, dear woman, I shall be here.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account