"I have given Madame the message," she said in her contained voice, swinging the door wide open.Then after relieving me of my hat and coat she announced me with the ****** words: "Voile Monsieur," and hurried away.Directly I appeared Dona Rita, away there on the couch, passed the tips of her fingers over her eyes and holding her hands up palms outwards on each side of her head, shouted to me down the whole length of the room: "The dry season has set in." Iglanced at the pink tips of her fingers perfunctorily and then drew back.She let her hands fall negligently as if she had no use for them any more and put on a serious expression.
"So it seems," I said, sitting down opposite her."For how long, Iwonder."
"For years and years.One gets so little encouragement.First you bolt away from my tears, then you send an impertinent message, and then when you come at last you pretend to behave respectfully, though you don't know how to do it.You should sit much nearer the edge of the chair and hold yourself very stiff, and make it quite clear that you don't know what to do with your hands."All this in a fascinating voice with a ripple of badinage that seemed to play upon the sober surface of her thoughts.Then seeing that I did not answer she altered the note a bit.
"Amigo George," she said, "I take the trouble to send for you and here I am before you, talking to you and you say nothing.""What am I to say?"
"How can I tell? You might say a thousand things.You might, for instance, tell me that you were sorry for my tears.""I might also tell you a thousand lies.What do I know about your tears? I am not a susceptible idiot.It all depends upon the cause.There are tears of quiet happiness.Peeling onions also will bring tears.""Oh, you are not susceptible," she flew out at me."But you are an idiot all the same.""Is it to tell me this that you have written to me to come?" Iasked with a certain animation.
"Yes.And if you had as much sense as the talking parrot I owned once you would have read between the lines that all I wanted you here for was to tell you what I think of you.""Well, tell me what you think of me."
"I would in a moment if I could be half as impertinent as you are.""What unexpected modesty," I said.
"These, I suppose, are your sea manners.""I wouldn't put up with half that nonsense from anybody at sea.
Don't you remember you told me yourself to go away? What was I to do?""How stupid you are.I don't mean that you pretend.You really are.Do you understand what I say? I will spell it for you.S-t-u-p-i-d.Ah, now I feel better.Oh, amigo George, my dear fellow-conspirator for the king - the king.Such a king! Vive le Roi!
Come, why don't you shout Vive le Roi, too?""I am not your parrot," I said.
"No, he never sulked.He was a charming, good-mannered bird, accustomed to the best society, whereas you, I suppose, are nothing but a heartless vagabond like myself.""I daresay you are, but I suppose nobody had the insolence to tell you that to your face.""Well, very nearly.It was what it amounted to.I am not stupid.
There is no need to spell out ****** words for me.It just came out.Don Juan struggled desperately to keep the truth in.It was most pathetic.And yet he couldn't help himself.He talked very much like a parrot.""Of the best society," I suggested.
"Yes, the most honourable of parrots.I don't like parrot-talk.
It sounds so uncanny.Had I lived in the Middle Ages I am certain I would have believed that a talking bird must be possessed by the devil.I am sure Therese would believe that now.My own sister!
She would cross herself many times and simply quake with terror.""But you were not terrified," I said."May I ask when that interesting communication took place?""Yesterday, just before you blundered in here of all days in the year.I was sorry for him.""Why tell me this? I couldn't help noticing it.I regretted Ihadn't my umbrella with me."
"Those unforgiven tears! Oh, you ****** soul! Don't you know that people never cry for anybody but themselves?...Amigo George, tell me - what are we doing in this world?""Do you mean all the people, everybody?"
"No, only people like you and me.Simple people, in this world which is eaten up with charlatani** of all sorts so that even we, the ******, don't know any longer how to trust each other.""Don't we? Then why don't you trust him? You are dying to do so, don't you know?"She dropped her chin on her breast and from under her straight eyebrows the deep blue eyes remained fixed on me, impersonally, as if without thought.
"What have you been doing since you left me yesterday?" she asked.
"The first thing I remember I abused your sister horribly this morning.""And how did she take it?"
"Like a warm shower in spring.She drank it all in and unfolded her petals.""What poetical expressions he uses! That girl is more perverted than one would think possible, considering what she is and whence she came.It's true that I, too, come from the same spot.""She is slightly crazy.I am a great favourite with her.I don't say this to boast.""It must be very comforting."
"Yes, it has cheered me immensely.Then after a morning of delightful musings on one thing and another I went to lunch with a charming lady and spent most of the afternoon talking with her."Dona Rita raised her head.
