The Song Of Songs Part 78

She rose, brushed her hair from her forehead, and gave herself a little shake, as was her wont when she jerked aside the everyday Lilly, the craven-hearted Lilly, the Lilly of the oppressed feelings, the Lilly who feared to face her fellow-beings, the stiff-jointed Lilly.

She made a dash and began.

First she imitated the beautiful Otero, and crowed and cuckooed. Her auditors rolled with laughter. Then she hit off certain cabaret stars.

Sucking her fingers like an innocent babe, she sang in flute tones: "Please let me in your room."

She croaked in a droll, bull-frog ba.s.s: "Once I was amba.s.sador," and peeping from behind the clothes rack she cooed the song of the pa.s.sionate dove: "Coo--coo--coo--kiek!"

They insisted on her concluding with a fandango. She protested. In vain.

They shoved the tables against the wall, and Lilly, making her own music through her teeth, whirled about the room more madly than ever before, and finally collapsed in a corner almost swooning.

The tumult of applause promised never to subside.

The women kissed her again and again, the men stroked her hair and arms, the stiff district attorney sounded a trumpet blast, and Richard, quite pale with pride, stood there in his Napoleon att.i.tude, tugging at his moustache.

But Dr. Salmoni remained at a distance, sad and modest, as if it all concerned him not in the least.

The only sign by which she knew he realised it was all meant for him was a rapid glance of understanding which he threw to her like a laurel wreath.

She was still rocking in the tempest when the company prepared to break up.

That had been intoxication, the sort of which he had spoken. It hissed like a flame through her heart and limbs.

Dr. Salmoni himself helped her on with her fur coat--Richard was busy paying the waiter--and while he deliberately laid the sable scarf about her shoulders, he whispered close to her ear:

"May I come to-morrow?"

"Yes," she screamed, alarmed at herself.

Then in defiance of her own cowardice, she turned abruptly on her heels and shouted sharply, as in anger, directly in his face:

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"What's the matter?" everybody asked.

She merely laughed shortly. What did she care for the others? Wasn't she aspiring to the heights again?

The next morning it was all a spectral dream. The one clear point was: "He's coming."

With the applause still ringing in her ears she had stretched herself and thought:

"Now he knows what I am. Now he knows I'm no dull, shrivelled, half-way creature for the valleys, no slave nature, no sheep that runs with the flock, no Mrs. Grundy-made fool, who voluntarily conforms to each and every convention. Now he knows I'm a free, proud woman, who, like himself, drinks in the light on the heights, one of those complete women, those maenads who dance a wild dance over abysms and mock at death even when he has them in his clutches."

Then her faintheartedness crept over her again. What after all had she done besides drink herself into a champagne mood, sing a few comic songs, and dance an abandoned dance? She had behaved like a music-hall danseuse, and had harvested the very doubtful approval of a semi-intoxicated audience.

If that alone was required for belonging to the elect, to the mighty, laughing, chosen ones, of whom Dr. Salmoni's books spoke!

No, oh, no! After last night's performance he could feel nothing but contempt for her, or, at most, pity. It was to tell her this to her face that he would come to visit her, if at all. He would let her feel her lowness and then go his own way, benevolent but untouched.

She would not suffer him to go. She would cling to him and cry:

"You promised to lead me up to the heights out of these depths of distress, out of this insipid existence, out of this void! Be true to your word. Do not desert me. I will do whatever you wish. I will be your thing, your creature. But don't desert me."

In feverish expectancy she dressed, waved her hair, and rouged her lips, pale from nights of pleasure. She made herself as beautiful as she could.

A little before twelve the bell rang.

He?

No. Mrs. Jula.

As if by mutual agreement she and Mrs. Jula had avoided each other since that evening of confidences. And now, without having announced her visit, here she stood, wearing her most cordial expression, and asking for a brief interview.

Lilly hesitated.

"Really I shan't keep you long, my dear. I understand--you're expecting some one."

"Not that I know of," replied Lilly, aware she was blushing.

"Don't deny it. Dr. Salmoni is coming. I know the joke. I once stood the same way, pale one instant, the next instant red, and waited for him.

The only difference is, my house gown wasn't such an angelic red. I was plain Bordeaux red. All the same to him. He takes us in Bordeaux red, too."'

"What do you mean?" Lilly faltered.

"What do I mean? Do you know what our circle with all our pretty legeres women is to Dr. Salmoni? It's a sort of fishing pool, where he angles from time to time to land something for which he just then happens to have an appet.i.te. There you have it, my dear!"

"That's slander!" cried Lilly, flaring up. "He's never made approaches to me. We've never so much as mentioned the word love to each other."

"No need," replied Mrs. Jula, and laughed exultingly. "He doesn't bother with such petty things. He knows when the time comes we shall swim into his net without it."

Lilly felt herself getting still angrier.

"We've always spoken of pure, n.o.ble things, of a proud humanity. And if you and your like cannot understand his language, if you insist--"

"One moment, my dear," Mrs. Jula interrupted her. "No need to be insulting. I came to you out of good motives. As for the others--it was _toute meme chose_ to me. I even licked my chops. But _you_, I love you, even if you don't want to have anything to do with me. _You_ he's to leave as you are. And last night, when I saw how far things had gone, I couldn't quiet down. I had to come to you before he--"

"Really, you're mistaken," said Lilly, though unable to refrain from a furtive glance at the clock.

Mrs. Jula, upon whom the glance was not lost, made a little grimace.

"Never mind. When the bell rings I'll slide out through the guest room.

But before then I am in hopes of having completed my work. See here, child"--she seated herself at one end of the sofa and drew Lilly down beside her--"why, all of us poor women crave to rise again, or once did, when like you we were tolerably faithful to the one. At the psychological moment, enter Dr. Salmoni. He doesn't have to work so hard for some of us, but he seems to like it. He must first salivate on us like an adder on a sparrow. He has various methods. With a cold mug like Karla, of course, he behaves very differently from the way he behaves with such as you or me. To us he says in the beginning: 'I cannot get over my astonishment at seeing you in these surroundings. Tell me, what seek you here?'"

Lilly started.