“Not the least need for him; let him stay where he is. You are what we
want.”
I held him back, putting my hands upon his shoulders, and my face close
to the animal face of that unknown man.
He smiled, much flattered: his white teeth gleamed.
“We shall not keep you long, if you wish to leave us. But for the
present, you have to stay with us.”
Some one—who could it be?—filled my liqueur-glass with cognac again and
again. Presently, a crimson blood-red smoke began to float from corner
to corner of the small cabinet, papered with red and gold, and filled
with the sound of his loud voice and the reek of tobacco. All round me,
everything was afire and aflame.
He was drawing near; in every limb of mine I felt his approach. His
jaws, chewing still, though his supper was over; his tiny eyes, to which
expectancy gave a phosphorescent glow; and the hot fulsome breath from
his gaping chops, embellished with splendidly shining fangs and
incisors; and that blond upstanding moustache of his:—I had all these
close to my face. He was unsteadily leaning over, tilting his chair
towards the sofa, touching and fingering the gauze trimming of my
bodice, and seeking my lips with his.
My brain, intensely excited, showed me things as they were. But I half
closed my eyes, and looked at him through the lids as though about to
faint.
All would not do.... My mind was sober: its powers came into full play.
At that instant I drew back, and—with all the force of my rage, hate,
despair, and revenge—revenge for everything and for us all—I dealt him a
furious blow with my clenched fist, right between those phosphorescent
greenish lustful eyes!
He reeled, and fell along with his chair on to the floor. Gina was at
the door in a flash.
I flung down upon the table all the money I had by me, and, slamming the
door behind us, rushed out in Gina’s company.
No one was in the passage. I walked out of the saloon, my face by this
time wearing an unconcerned expression. In the cloakroom we put on the
hooded mantles we had taken to the concert. I went home, shorn of all my
strength, and in a state of complete collapse.
An astonishing woman, that Gina! She never asked me for any sort of
explanation.
“This explosion scene has done me good,” was her indifferent and only
comment.
From this day, I am her friend.
I have told Gina all about the whole business, from beginning to end.
She said I was terribly naïve. “Things could not possibly have turned
out otherwise.” She advised me to forgive Witold. It was only if he had
loved another that I could have had any cause for complaint. But such a
passing connection as that!... Besides, I had no rights over him; and
moreover, he was a man!... Owinski, too, had been several times
unfaithful to her; and yet, though their relations had been very
different from ours, she had always forgiven him: though indeed not
without difficulty.... It was only now that the inwardness of suffering
had come home to her.... Had he been willing, she would have agreed to
his having a dozen others besides his wife!
“Never would _I_ agree to such a thing as that,” I replied. “If Witold
gave me up for the love of some other woman, then I should at least be
sure that my misery was of some service to others, and that there was on
both sides equality of rights, since I too might have just as well
fallen in love with another.... But if he is false to me for a mere
plaything and to amuse himself with what does not mean any more to him
than a good cigar, then I am absolutely unable to act, and quite
defenceless against him. I shall never, never be able to do the same.
And, between the measure of his guilt and of my retaliation for it,
there is such huge disproportion as makes me ridiculous in my own
eyes.... Why, when Roslawski forsook me, I was also most miserable: but
in his behaviour at least there never was anything one whit so mean, so
dirty, as this.”
“I have not the slightest wish,” returned Gina, “to impose my philosophy
of life upon you.”
He has excused himself; has assured me, even sworn that I am in error. I
have refused to believe him. Women are hugely credulous, credulous in
the extreme.
I have not seen him this whole week. He came here twice, but was denied
entrance, as I ordered. I don’t care for the forgiving system. I don’t
care to become like Martha....
However, if I act thus, it is on principle only; in reality, I am
tortured by his absence. My feelings incline me to believe that he says
true.... Surely he cannot possibly be thus false to me.