“It looks awfully rich. How did you get that?”
“Jack Kuyper gave it to me. We went and bought it yesterday just before
he went away.” She stroked the smooth fur; she was as happy with it as a
child with a toy. “How much d’you think it cost?”
“I haven’t an idea.”
“Two hundred and sixty pounds. Do you know I’ve never had anything that
cost so much in my life? I told him it was far too much, but he wouldn’t
listen. He made me have it.”
Rosie chuckled with glee and her eyes shone. But I felt my face go stiff
and a shiver run down my spine.
“Won’t Driffield think it’s rather funny, Kuyper giving you a fur cape
that costs all that?” said I, trying to make my voice sound natural.
Rosie’s eyes danced mischievously.
“You know what Ted is, he never notices anything; if he says anything
about it I shall tell him I gave twenty pounds for it in a pawnshop. He
won’t know any better.” She rubbed her face against the collar. “It’s so
soft. And everyone can see it cost money.”
I tried to eat and in order not to show the bitterness in my heart I did
my best to keep the conversation going on one topic or another. Rosie
did not much mind what I said. She could only think of her new cape and
every other minute her eyes returned to the muff that she insisted on
holding on her lap. She looked at it with an affection in which there
was something lazy, sensual, and self-complacent. I was angry with her.
I thought her stupid and common.
“You look like a cat that’s swallowed a canary,” I could not help
snapping.
She only giggled.
“That’s what I feel like.”
Two hundred and sixty pounds was an enormous sum to me. I did not know
one _could_ pay so much for a cape. I lived on fourteen pounds a month
and not at all badly either; and in case any reader is not a ready
reckoner I will add that this is one hundred and sixty-eight pounds a
year. I could not believe that anyone would make as expensive a present
as that from pure friendship; what did it mean but that Jack Kuyper had
been sleeping with Rosie, night after night, all the time he was in
London, and now when he went away was paying her? How could she accept
it? Didn’t she see how it degraded her? Didn’t she see how frightfully
vulgar it was of him to give her a thing that cost so much? Apparently
not, for she said to me:
“It was nice of him, wasn’t it? But then Jews are always generous.”
“I suppose he could afford it,” I said.
“Oh, yes, he’s got lots of money. He said he wanted to give me something
before he went away and asked me what I wanted. Well, I said, I could do
with a cape and a muff to match, but I never thought he’d buy me
anything like this. When we went into the shop I asked them to show me
something in astrakhan, but he said: No, sable, and the best money can
buy. And when we saw this he absolutely insisted on my having it.”
I thought of her with her white body, her skin so milky, in the arms of
that old fat gross man and his thick loose lips kissing hers. And then I
knew that the suspicion that I had refused to believe was true; I knew
that when she went out to dinner with Quentin Forde and Harry Retford
and Lionel Hillier she went to bed with them just as she came to bed
with me. I could not speak; I knew that if I did I should insult her. I
do not think I was jealous so much as mortified. I felt that she had
been making a damned fool of me. I used all my determination to prevent
the bitter jibes from passing my lips.
We went on to the theatre. I could not listen to the play. I could only
feel against my arm the smoothness of the sable cape; I could only see
her fingers for ever stroking the muff. I could have borne the thought
of the others; it was Jack Kuyper who horrified me. How could she? It
was abominable to be poor. I longed to have enough money to tell her
that if she would send the fellow back his beastly furs I would give her
better ones instead. At last she noticed that I did not speak.
“You’re very silent to-night.”
“Am I?”
“Aren’t you well?”
“Perfectly.”
She gave me a sidelong look. I did not meet her eyes, but I knew they
were smiling with that smile at once mischievous and childlike that I
knew so well. She said nothing more. At the end of the play, since it
was raining, we took a hansom and I gave the driver her address in
Limpus Road. She did not speak till we got to Victoria Street, then she
said:
“Don’t you want me to come home with you?”
“Just as you like.”
She lifted up the trap and gave the driver my address. She took my hand
and held it, but I remained inert. I looked straight out of the window
with angry dignity. When we reached Vincent Square I handed her out of
the cab and let her into the house without a word. I took off my hat and
coat. She threw her cape and her muff on the sofa.
“Why are you so sulky?” she asked, coming up to me.
“I’m not sulky,” I answered, looking away.
She took my face in her two hands.
“How can you be so silly? Why should you be angry because Jack Kuyper
gives me a fur cape? You can’t afford to give me one, can you?”
“Of course I can’t.”
“And Ted can’t either. You can’t expect me to refuse a fur cape that
cost two hundred and sixty pounds. I’ve wanted a fur cape all my life.
It means nothing to Jack.”
“You don’t expect me to believe that he gave it you just out of
friendship.”
“He might have. Anyhow, he’s gone back to Amsterdam, and who knows when
he’ll come back?”
“He isn’t the only one, either.”
I looked at Rosie now, with angry, hurt, resentful eyes; she smiled at
me, and I wish I knew how to describe the sweet kindliness of her
beautiful smile; her voice was exquisitely gentle.
“Oh, my dear, why d’you bother your head about any others? What harm
does it do you? Don’t I give you a good time? Aren’t you happy when
you’re with me?”
“Awfully.”
“Well, then. It’s so silly to be fussy and jealous. Why not be happy
with what you can get? Enjoy yourself while you have the chance, I say;
we shall all be dead in a hundred years and what will anything matter
then? Let’s have a good time while we can.”
She put her arms round my neck and pressed her lips against mine. I
forgot my wrath. I only thought of her beauty and her enveloping
kindness.
“You must take me as I am, you know,” she whispered.
“All right,” I said.