"We took the express one Thursday evening on the 26th of June. Hardly
anyone goes south at that time of the year, so that we had the carriage to
ourselves. Both of us were in a bad temper on leaving Paris, sorry for
having yielded to the temptation of this journey, and regretting cool
Marly, the beautiful Seine, and our lazy boating excursions, our
delightful evenings spent on the banks of the river waiting for
nightfall.
"As soon as the train started Paul settled himself comfortably into a
corner, and said: 'It is most idiotic to go to this place.' As it was too
late for him to change his mind then, I answered: 'Well, you should not
have come.'
"He did not answer, and I felt very much inclined to laugh when I saw
how furious he looked. He certainly looks like a squirrel, but then every
one of us has retained the type of some animal or other as the mark of
primal race. How many people have jaws like a bulldog, or heads like
goats, rabbits, foxes, horses, or oxen. Paul was a squirrel turned into
a man. He had its bright, quick eyes, its hair, its pointed nose, its
small, fine, supple, active body, and a certain mysterious resemblance
in his general bearing: in fact, a similarity of movements, of gestures,
and of bearing which might almost be taken for an atavism.
"At last we both went to sleep--the noisy slumber of the railway
carriage, which is broken by horrible cramps in the arms and neck, and by
the sudden stopping of the train.
"We woke up as we were going along the Rhone. Soon the continuous noise
of the grasshoppers came in through the window, a cry which seems to be
the voice of the warm earth, the song of Provence. It seemed to instill
into our looks, our breasts, and our souls the light and happy feeling of
the south, the smell of the parched earth, of the stony and light soil of
the olive tree with its grey-green foliage.
"When the train stopped again a porter ran along the train calling out
'Valence' in a sonorous voice, with an accent that again gave us that
taste of Provence which the shrill note of the grasshoppers had already
imparted to us.
"Nothing happened till we got to Marseilles, where we breakfasted, but
when we returned to our carriage we found a woman installed there. Paul,
with a delighted look at me, unconsciously gave his short moustache a
twirl, and passed his fingers like a comb through his hair, which had
become slightly disordered with the night's journey. Then he sat down
opposite the newcomer.
"Whenever I happen to see a new face, either while travelling or in
society, I become obsessed with the desire to find out what character,
mind, and intellectual capacities are hidden beneath those features.
"She was a young and pretty woman, a native of the south of France
certainly, with splendid eyes, beautiful, wavy black hair, which was so
thick, long, and strong that it seemed almost too heavy for her head. She
was dressed with a certain southern bad taste which made her look a little
vulgar. Her regular features had none of the grace and finish of the
refined races, of that slight delicacy which members of the aristocracy
inherit from their birth, and which is the hereditary mark of blue blood.
"Her bracelets were too big to be of gold; she wore earrings with
white stones too big to be diamonds, and she belonged unmistakably to the
people. One would guess that she would talk too loud, and use exaggerated
gestures.
"When the train started she remained motionless in her place, in the
attitude of a woman who was in a rage. She had not even looked at us.
"Paul began to talk to me, evidently with an eye to effect, trying to
attract her attention, as shopkeepers expose their choice wares to catch
the notice of passers-by. She did not seem to hear.
"'Toulon! Ten minute's wait! Refreshment room!' the porter shouted.
"Paul motioned to me to get out, and, as soon as we were on the
platform, he said:
"'I wonder who on earth she can be?'
"I began to laugh. 'I am sure I don't know, and I don't in the least
care.'
"He was quite excited.
"'She is an uncommonly fresh and pretty girl. What eyes she has, and
how cross she looks. She must be dreadfully worried, for she takes no
notice of anything.'
"'You will have all your trouble for nothing,' I ventured.
"He began to lose his temper.
"'I am not taking any trouble, my dear fellow. I think her an
extremely pretty woman, that is all. If one could only speak to her! But
I don't know how to begin. Can't you give me an idea? Can't you guess
who she is?'
"'Upon my word, I cannot. I rather think she is some actress who is
going to rejoin her company after some love adventure.'
"He seemed quite upset, as if I had said something insulting.
"'What makes you think that? On the contrary, I think she looks most
respectable.'
"'Just look at her bracelets,' I said, 'her earrings, and her whole
dress. I should not be the least surprised if she were a dancer or a
circus rider, but most likely a dancer. Her whole style smacks very much
of the theatre.'
"He evidently did not like the idea.
"'She is much too young, I am sure; why, she is hardly twenty.'
"'Well,' I replied, 'there are many things which one can do before one
is twenty; dancing and reciting are among them, without counting another
business which is, perhaps, her sole occupation.'
"'Take your seats for Nice, Ventimiglia,' the guards and porters called
out.
"We got in; our fellow-passenger was eating an orange. She certainly
was not refined. She had spread her handkerchief on her knees, and the way
in which she tore off the peel and opened her mouth to put in the pieces,
and then spat the pips out of the window, showed that her education had
been decidedly vulgar. She seemed more unapproachable than ever, and
swallowed the fruit with an exceedingly comic air of rage.
"Paul devoured her with his eyes, and tried to attract her attention
and excite her curiosity, but in spite of his talk and of the manner in
which he brought in well-known names, she did not pay the least attention
to him.
"After passing Fréjus and St. Raphael, the train passes through a
veritable garden, a paradise of roses, of groves of oranges and lemons
covered with fruit and flowers at the same time. That delightful coast
from Marseilles to Genoa is a kingdom of perfumes in a land of flowers.
"June is the time to see it, when in every narrow valley and on every
slope the most exquisite flowers are growing luxuriantly. And the roses!
fields, hedges, groves of roses! They climb up the walls, blossom on the
roofs, hang from the trees, peep out from among the bushes; they are
white, red, yellow, large and small, ordinary and quiet, with a simple
dress, or full in brilliant and heavy toilettes. Their powerful perfume
makes the air heavy and relaxing, while the still more penetrating lasting
odour of the orange blossoms sweetens the atmosphere, till it might almost
be called a sugarplum for the olfactory nerve.
"The shore, with its brown rocks, was bathed by the motionless
Mediterranean. The hot summer sun stretched like a fiery cloth over the
mountains, over the long expanses of sand, and over the hard, set blue
sea. The train went on, through the tunnels, along the slopes, above the
water, on straight, wall-like viaducts, and a soft, vague, saltish smell
came up, a smell of drying seaweed, mingled at times with the strong,
heavy perfume of the flowers.
"But Paul neither saw, nor looked at, nor smelled anything, for our
fellow-traveller engrossed all his attention.
"When we got to Cannes, as he wished to speak to me, he signed to me to
get out again, and as soon as I had done so he took me by the arm.
"'Do you know she is really charming. Just look at her eyes; and I
never saw anything like her hair.'
"'Don't excite yourself,' I replied. 'Tackle her, if you have any
intentions that way. She does not look impregnable, I fancy, although she
appears to be a little bit grumpy.'
"'Why don't you speak to her?' he said. 'I don't know what to say, for
I am always terribly stupid at first; I can never make advances to a woman
in the street. I follow them, go round and round them, quite close to
them, but I never know what to say at first. I only once tried to enter
into conversation with a woman in that way. As I clearly saw that she was
waiting for me to make overtures, and as I felt bound to say something, I
stammered out, "I hope you are quite well, Madame?" She laughed in my
face, and I made my escape.'
"I promised Paul to do all I could to bring about a conversation, and
when we had taken our places again, I politely asked our neighbour:
"'Have you any objection to the smell of tobacco, Madame?'
"She merely replied: '_Non capisco._'
"So she was an Italian! I felt an absurd inclination to laugh. As Paul
did not understand a word of that language, I was obliged to act as his
interpreter, so I said in Italian:
"'I asked you, Madame, whether you had any objection to tobacco smoke?'
"With an angry look, she replied, '_Che mi fa?_'
"She had neither turned her head nor looked at me, and I really did
not know whether to take this What does it matter to me, for an
authorisation, a refusal, a real sign of indifference, or for a mere
'Leave me alone.'
"'Madame,' I replied, 'if you mind the smell of tobacco in the least--'
"She again said, '_mica_,' in a tone of voice which seemed to mean, 'I
wish to goodness you would leave me alone!' It was, however, a kind of
permission, so I said to Paul:
"'You can smoke.'
"He looked at me in that curious sort of way that people have when they
try to understand others who are talking in a strange language before
them, and asked me:
"'What did you say to her?'
"'I asked if we might smoke, and she said we might do whatever we
liked.'
"Whereupon I lighted my cigar.
"'Did not she say anything more?'
"'If you had counted her words you would have noticed that she used
exactly six, two of which gave me to understand that she knew no French,
so four remained, and a lot cannot be said in four words.'
"Paul seemed quite unhappy, disappointed, and at sea.
"But suddenly the Italian asked me, in that tone of discontent which
seemed habitual to her, 'Do you know at what time we shall get to
Genoa?'
"'At eleven o'clock,' I replied. Then after a moment I went on:
"'My friend and I are also going to Genoa, and if we can be of any
service to you, we shall be very happy. As she did not answer, I insisted:
'You are alone and if we can be of service...' But she interrupted with
such a '_mica_,' that I did not venture on another word.
"'What did she say?' Paul asked.
"'She said that she thought you were charming.'
"But he was in no humour for joking, and begged me, dryly, not to make
fun of him, so I translated her question and my polite offer, which had
been so pertly rejected.
"Then he became as agitated as a squirrel in a cage.
"'If we only knew,' he said, 'what hotel she was going to, we would go
to the same. Try and find out, so as to have another opportunity for
making her speak.'
"It was not particularly easy, and I did not know what pretext to
invent, anxious as I was to make the acquaintance of this unapproachable
person.
"We passed Nice, Monaco, Mentone, and the train stopped at the frontier
for the examination of luggage.
"Although I hate those badly brought-up people who breakfast and dine
in railway-carriages, I went and bought a quantity of good things to make
one last attack on her by their means. I felt sure that this girl must,
ordinarily, be by no means inaccessible. Something had put her out and
made her irritable, but very little would suffice, a mere word or some
agreeable offer, make her unbend, to decide her and overcome her.
"We started again, and we three were still alone. I spread my eatables
out on the seat. I cut up the fowl, put the slices of ham neatly on a
piece of paper, and then carefully laid out our dessert, the strawberries,
plums, cherries, and cakes, close to the girl.
"When she saw that we were going to eat she took a piece of chocolate
and two small rolls out of her pocket and began to eat them with her
beautiful sharp teeth.
"'Ask her to have some of ours,' Paul said in a whisper.
"'That is exactly what I want to do, but it is rather a difficult
matter.'
"As she, however, glanced from time to time at our provisions, I felt
sure that she would still be hungry when she had finished what she had. So
as soon as her frugal meal was over, I said to her:
"'It would be very kind of you if you would take some of this fruit.'
"Again she said '_mica_,' but less crossly than before.
"'Well, then,' I said, 'may I offer you a little wine? I see you have
not drunk anything. It is Italian wine, and as we are now in your own
country, we should be very pleased to see such a pretty Italian mouth
accept the offer of its French neighbours.'
"She shook her head slightly, evidently wishing to refuse, but very
desirous of accepting, and her '_mica_' this time was almost polite. I
took the bottle, which was covered with straw in the Italian fashion,
and filling the glass I offered it to her.
"'Please drink it,' I said, 'to bid us welcome to your country.'
"She took the glass with her usual look, and emptied it at a draught,
like a woman tormented with thirst, and then gave it back to me without
even saying 'Thank you.'
"Then I offered her the cherries. 'Please take some,' I said; 'we shall
be so pleased if you will.'
"Out of her corner she looked at all the fruit spread out beside her,
and said so rapidly that I could scarcely follow her: '_A me non piacciono
ne le ciliegie ne le susine; amo soltano le fragole._'
"'What does she say?' Paul asked.
"'That she does not care for cherries or plums, but only for
strawberries.'
"I put a newspaper full of wild strawberries on her lap, and she ate
them quickly, throwing them into her mouth from some distance in a
coquettish and charming manner.
"When she had finished the little red heap which we had seen rapidly
diminishing, melting and disappearing under the rapid action of her hands,
I asked her:
"'What may I offer you now?'
"'I will take a little chicken,' she replied.
"She certainly devoured half of it, tearing it to pieces with the rapid
movements of her jaws like some carnivorous animal. Then she made up her
mind to have some cherries, which she 'did not like,' then some plums,
then some little cakes. Then she said, 'I have had enough,' and sat back
in her corner.
"I was much amused, and tried to make her eat more, pressing her, in
fact, till she suddenly got in a rage again, and flung such a furious
'_mica_' at me, that I would no longer run the risk of spoiling her
digestion.
"I turned to my friend. 'My poor Paul,' I said, 'I am afraid we have
had our trouble for nothing.'
"Night was coming on, one of those hot summer nights which extend their
warm shade over the burning and exhausted earth. Here and there, in
the distance by the sea, over capes and promontories bright stars began to
shine on the dark horizon, which I was, at times, almost inclined to
confound with lighthouses.
"The scent of the orange-trees became more penetrating, and we breathed
with delight, distending our lungs to inhale it more deeply. The
balmy air was soft, delicious, almost divine.
"Suddenly I noticed something like a shower of stars under the dense
shade of the trees along the line where it was quite dark. It might have
been taken for drops of light, leaping, flying, playing and running among
the leaves, or for small stars fallen from the skies in order to have an
excursion on the earth; but they were only fireflies dancing a strange
fiery ballet in the perfumed air.
"One of them happened to come into our carriage and shed its
intermittent light, which seemed to be extinguished one moment and to be
burning the next. I covered the carriage-lamp with its blue shade and
watched the strange fly careering about in its fiery flight. Suddenly it
settled on the dark hair of our neighbour, who was dozing after dinner.
Paul seemed delighted, his eyes fixed on the bright, sparkling spot which
looked like a living jewel on the forehead of the sleeping woman.
"The Italian awoke about eleven o'clock, with the bright insect still
in her hair. When I saw her move, I said: 'We are just getting to Genoa,
Madame,' and she murmured, without answering me, as if possessed by some
obstinate and embarrassing thought:
"'What am I going to do, I wonder?'
"And then she suddenly asked:
"'Would you like me to come with you?'
"I was so taken aback that I really did not understand her.
"'With us? What do you mean?'
"She repeated, looking more and more furious:
"'Would you like me to go with you now, as soon as we get out of the
train?'
"'I am quite willing; but where do you want to go to? Where shall I
take you to?'
"She shrugged her shoulders with an air of supreme indifference.
"'Wherever you like; what does it matter to me?' She repeated her
'_Che mi fa?_' twice.
"'But we are going to the hotel.'
"'Very well, let us all go to the hotel,' she said, in a contemptuous
voice.
"I turned to Paul, and said:
"'She wants to know if we should like her to come with us.'
"My friend's utter surprise restored my self-possession. He stammered:
"'With us? Where to? What for? How?'
"'I don't know, but she made this strange proposal to me in a most
irritable voice. I told her that we were going to the hotel, and she
said: 'Very well, let us all go there!' I suppose she is without a
half-penny. She certainly has a very strange way of making
acquaintances.'
"Paul, who was very much excited, exclaimed:
"'I am quite agreeable. Tell her that we will take her wherever she
likes.' Then, after a moment's hesitation, he said uneasily:
"'We must know, however, with whom she wants to go,--with you or
with me?'
"I turned to the Italian, who did not even seem to be listening to us,
and said:
"'We shall be very happy to take you with us, but my friend wants to
know whether you will take my arm or his?'
"She opened her black eyes wide with vague surprise, and said, '_Che
mi fa?_'
"I was obliged to explain myself. 'In Italy, I believe when a man looks
after a woman, fulfills all her wishes, and satisfies all her caprices,
he is called a _patito._ Which of us two will you take for your
_patito?_'
"Without the slightest hesitation she replied:
"'You!'
"I turned to Paul. 'You see, my friend, she chooses me; you have no
luck.'
"'All the better for you,' he replied, in a rage. Then, after thinking
for a few moments, he went on:
"'Do you really care about taking this creature with you? She will spoil
our journey. What are we to do with this woman, who looks like I don't
know what? They will not take us in at any decent hotel.'
"I, however, was just beginning to find the Italian much nicer than I
had thought her at first, and I was now very anxious to take her with us.
The idea delighted me. I already felt those little shivers which the
expectation of a night of love sends through the veins.
"I replied, 'My dear fellow, we have accepted, and it is too late to
recede. You were the first to advise me to say 'Yes.'
"'It is very stupid,' he growled, 'but do as you please.'
"The train whistled, slackened speed, and we ran into the station.
"I got out of the carriage, and offered my new companion my hand. She
jumped out lightly, and I gave her my arm, which she took with an air of
seeming repugnance. As soon as we had claimed our luggage we started off
into the town, Paul walking in complete silence, with a nervous step.
"'To what hotel shall we go?' I asked him. 'It may be difficult to get
into the City of Paris Hotel with a woman, especially with this
Italian.'
"Paul interrupted me: 'Yes, with an Italian who looks more like a
strumpet than a duchess. However, that is no business of mine. Do just as
you please.'
"I was in a state of perplexity. I had written to the City of Paris to
reserve our rooms, and now I did not know what to do.
"Two _commissionnaires_ followed us with our luggage. I continued:
'You might as well go first, and say that we are coming; and give the
landlord to understand that I have a--a friend with me, so that we should
like rooms quite by themselves for us three, so as not to be brought in
contact with other travellers. He will understand, and we will
decide according to his answer.'
"But Paul growled, 'Thank you; such commissions and such a rôle do not
suit me by any means. I did not come here to get ready your apartments
or to minister to your pleasures.'
"But I was insistent: 'Look here, don't, be angry. It is surely far
better to go to a good hotel than to a bad one, and it is not difficult
to ask the landlord for three separate bedrooms and a dining-room.'
"I put a stress on _three_, and that decided him.
"He went on first, and I saw him enter the great doorway of a fine
hotel, while I remained on the other side of the street dragging along my
Italian who did not say a word, and followed by the porters with the
luggage.
"Paul came back at last, looking as dissatisfied as my companion.
"'That is settled,' he said, 'and they will take us in; but there are
only two bedrooms. You must settle it as you can.'
"I followed him, rather ashamed of going in with such a strange
companion.
"There were two bedrooms separated by a small sitting-room. I ordered
a cold supper, and then I turned to the Italian with a perplexed look.
"'We have only been able to get two rooms, so you must choose which
you like.'
"She replied with her eternal '_Che mi fa?_' I thereupon took up her
little black wooden box, just like those which servants use, and took it
into the room on the right, which I had chosen for her--for us. A bit of
paper was fastened on to the box, on which was written, 'Mademoiselle
Francesca Rondoli, Genoa.'
"'Your name is Francesca?' I asked, and she nodded her head, without
replying.
"'We shall have supper directly,' I continued. 'Meanwhile, I daresay
you would like to freshen yourself up a bit!'
"She answered with a '_mica_,' a phrase which she employed just as
frequently as '_Che mi fa_,' but I went on: 'It is always pleasant
after a journey.'
"Then I suddenly remembered that she had not, perhaps, the necessary
objects, for she appeared to me in a very singular position, as if she
had just escaped from some disagreeable adventure, and I brought her my
dressing-case.
"I put out all the little instruments for cleanliness and comfort which
it contained: a nailbrush, a new toothbrush,--for I always carry a
selection of them about with me,--my nail-scissors, a nail-file, and
sponges. I uncorked a bottle of Eau de Cologne, one of lavender-water, and
a little bottle of new-mown hay, so that she might have a choice. Then
I opened my powder-box, and put out the powder-puff, put my fine towels
over the water-jug, and placed a piece of new soap near the basin.
"She watched my movements with a vexed look in her wide-open eyes,
without appearing either surprised or pleased by my forethought.
"Here is all that you require, I then said; 'I will tell you when
supper is ready.'
"When I returned to the sitting-room I found that Paul had taken
possession of the other room, and had shut himself in, so I sat down
to wait.
"A waiter went back and forth, bringing plates and glasses. He laid the
table slowly, then put a cold fowl on it, and told me that all was ready.
"I knocked gently at Mademoiselle Rondoli's door. 'Come in,' she said,
and when I did so I was struck by a strong, heavy smell of perfumes, as
if I were in a hairdresser's shop.
"The Italian was sitting on her box in an attitude either of thoughtful
discontent or absent-mindedness. The towel was still folded over the
water-jug, which was quite full, and the soap, untouched and dry, was
lying beside the empty basin; but one would have thought that the young
woman had drunk half of the bottles of scent. The Eau de Cologne, however,
had been spared, as only about a third of it had gone; but to make up for
that she had used a surprising amount of lavender-water and new-mown hay.
A cloud of violet powder, a vague white mist, seemed still to be floating
in the air, from the effects of her over-powdering her face and neck. It
seemed to cover her eyelashes, eyebrows, and the hair on her temples like
snow, while her cheeks were plastered with it, and layers of it covered
her nostrils, the comers of her eyes, and her chin.
"When she got up she exhaled such a strong odour of scent that it
almost made me feel faint.
"When we sat down to supper I found that Paul was in a most execrable
temper, and I could get nothing out of him but words of blame and
irritation, and disagreeable compliments.
"Mademoiselle Francesca ate like an ogre, and as soon as she had
finished her meal she threw herself upon the sofa. As for me, I saw the
decisive moment approaching for settling how we were to apportion the
rooms. I determined to take the bull by the horns, and sitting down by
the Italian I gallantly kissed her hand.
"She half opened her tired eyes looked at me, sleepy and discontented.
"'As we have only two bedrooms, will you allow me to share yours with
you?'
"'Do just as you like,' she said. 'It is all the same to me. _Che mi
fa?_'
"Her indifference vexed me.
"'But you are sure you do not mind my being in your room with you?'
I said.
"'It is all the same to me; do just as you like.'
"'Should you like to go to bed at once?'
"'Yes; I am very sleepy.'
"She got up, yawned, gave Paul her hand, who took it with a furious
look, and I lighted her into our room. A disquieting feeling haunted me.
'Here is all you want,' I said again.
"This time I took care to pour half the water into the basin, and to
put a towel near the soap.
"Then I went back to Paul. As soon as I got into the room, he said,
'You have got a nice sort of a creature there!' and I answered, laughing,
'My dear friend, don't speak ill of sour grapes,' and he replied,
ill-temperedly:
"'Just take care how this ends, my good fellow.'
"I almost trembled with that feeling of fear which assails us after
some suspicious love escapade--that fear which spoils our pleasant
meetings, our unexpected caresses, our chance kisses. However, I put
a bold face on the matter. 'At any rate, the girl is no adventuress.'
"But the fellow had me in his power; he had seen the shadow of my
anxiety on my face.
"'What do you know about her? You really astonish me. You pick up an
Italian woman travelling alone in the train, and she volunteers, with
most singular cynicism, to go and be your mistress in any old hotel. You
take her with you, and then you declare that she is not a tart! And you
persuade yourself that you are not running more risk than if you were to
go and spend the night with a woman who had smallpox.'
"He laughed with an unpleasant and angry laugh. I sat down, a prey to
uneasiness. What was I to do, for he was right after all? And a struggle
began within me, between desire and fear.
"He went on: 'Do as you like, I have warned you, so do not complain
of the consequences.'
"But I saw such ironical gaiety in his eyes, such a delight in his
revenge; he made fun of me so good-naturedly, that I did not hesitate any
longer. I gave him my hand, and said, 'Good night. You know the old
saying: "A victory without peril is a triumph without glory," and upon my
word, the victory is worth the danger.'
"And with a firm step I went into Francesca's room.
"I stopped short at the door in surprise and astonishment. She was
already asleep, quite naked on the bed. Sleep had overcome her when she
had finished undressing, and she was reposing in the charming attitude of
one of Titian's women.
"It seemed as if she had lain down from sheer fatigue in order to take
off her stockings, for they were lying on the bed. Then she had thought of
something pleasant, no doubt, for she had waited to finish her reverie
before moving, and then, closing her eyes, she had lost consciousness. A
nightgown, embroidered about the neck such as one buys in cheap,
ready-made shops, a beginner's luxury was lying on a chair.
"She was charming, young, firm, and fresh.
"What is prettier than a woman asleep? The body with its soft contours,
whose every curve is a temptation, whose plump softness stirs the senses,
seems to have been created for the repose of the bed. Only when it is
lying upon the sheets does one get the full value of that undulating line
which curves in at the waist, curves out at the hips and then runs down
the charming outline of the leg, ending at the point of the foot. I was on
the point of forgetting my friend's prudent counsels, but suddenly
turning to the washstand I saw everything as I had left it, and I sat
down, anxious, and a prey to irresolution.
"I remained thus for a long time, not able to make up my mind what to
do. Retreat was impossible, and I must either pass the night on a chair,
or go to bed myself at my own risk and peril.
"I had no thoughts of sleeping either here or there, for my head was
too excited and my eyes too occupied.
"I stirred incessantly, feverish, uncomfortable, enervated. Then I
began to reason with myself, certainly with a view to capitulation: 'If I
lie down that does not bind me to anything, and I shall certainly be more
comfortable on a mattress than on a chair.'
"I undressed slowly, and then, stepping over the sleeping girl, I
stretched myself out against the wall, turning my back on temptation.
"In this position I remained for a long time without going to sleep,
when suddenly my neighbour awoke. She opened her eyes, looked astonished,
and still discontented; then seeing that she had nothing on, she got up
and calmly put on her nightgown with as much indifference as if I had not
been present.
"Then... I seized the opportunity, but this did not appear to disturb
her at all. She immediately went quietly to sleep again, with her head
resting on her right arm. And I began to meditate on the weakness and
folly of human nature. Then I went to sleep also.
"She got up early, like a woman who is used to work in the morning. She
woke me up by doing so, and I watched her through my half-closed eyelids.
"She came and went without hurrying herself, as if she were astonished
at having nothing to do. At last she went to the washstand, and in a
moment she emptied all the scent that remained in my bottles. She
certainly also used some water, but very little.
"When she was quite dressed she sat down on her box again, and holding
one knee between her hands, seemed to be thinking.
"Then I pretended to notice her, and said:
"'Good morning, Francesca.'
"Without seeming in at all a better temper than the previous night,
she murmured, 'Good morning.'
"When I asked her whether she had slept well, she nodded 'Yes,' and
jumping out of bed, I went and kissed her.
"She turned her face toward me like a child who is being kissed against
its will; but I took her tenderly in my arms (the wine being poured out,
I would have been very stupid not to drink any more of it). Gently I put
my lips on her large eyes, which she closed with evident distaste under my
kisses on her fresh cheeks and full lips, which she turned away.
"'You don't seem to like being kissed, I said to her.'
"'_Mica_' was her only answer.
"I sat down on the trunk by her side, and, passing my arm through hers,
I said: '_Mica! mica! mica!_ in reply to everything. I shall call you
Mademoiselle _Mica_, I think.'
"For the first time I fancied I saw the shadow of a smile on her lips,
but it passed by so quickly that I may have been mistaken.
"'But if you never say anything but '_Mica_' I shall not know what to
do to try and please you. Let us see; what shall we do to-day?'
"She hesitated a moment as if some fancy had flitted through her bead,
and then she said carelessly: 'It is all the same to me; whatever you
like.'
"'Very well. Mademoiselle _Mica_, we will get a carriage and go for
a drive.'
"'As you please, she said.'
"Paul was waiting for us in the dining-room, looking as bored as third
parties generally do in love affairs. I assumed a delighted air, and shook
hands with him with triumphant energy.
"'What are you thinking of doing?' he asked.
"'First of all we will go and see a little of the town, and then we
might take a carriage, for a drive in the neighbourhood.'
"We breakfasted in silence and then started on foot to visit the
museums. We went through the Spinola Palace, the Doria Palace, the
Marcello Durazzo, the Red and White Palaces. Francesca either looked at
nothing or merely just glanced carelessly at all the various masterpieces.
Paul followed us, growling all sorts of disagreeable things. Then we all
three took a silent drive into the country and returned to dinner.
"The next day it was the same thing and the next day again; so on the
third Paul said to me: 'Look here, I am going to leave you; I am not going
to stop here for three weeks watching you make love to this creature.'
"I was perplexed and annoyed, for to my great surprise I had become
singularly attached to Francesca. A man is but weak and foolish, carried
away by the merest trifle, and a coward every time that his senses are
excited or mastered. I clung to this unknown girl, silent and dissatisfied
as she always was. I liked her somewhat ill-tempered face, the
dissatisfied droop of her mouth, the weariness of her look; I liked her
fatigued movements, the contemptuous way in which she yielded to my
wishes, the very indifference of her caresses. A secret bond, that
mysterious bond of animal love, the secret attachment to a possession
which does not satiate, bound me to her. I told Paul so, quite frankly.
He treated me as if I had been a fool, and then said:
"'Very well, take her with you.'
"But she obstinately refused to leave Genoa, without giving any reason.
I besought, I reasoned, I promised, but all was of no avail, and so I
stayed on.
"Paul declared that he would go by himself, and went so far as to pack
up his portmanteau; but he remained all the same.
"Thus a fortnight passed. Francesca was always silent and irritable,
lived beside me rather than with me, responded to all my desires, all
my demands, and all my propositions with her perpetual '_Che mi fa_,' or
with her no less perpetual '_Mica._'
"My friend got more and more furious, but my only answer was, 'You can
go if you are tired of staying. I am not detaining you.'
"Then he called me names, overwhelmed me with reproaches, and
exclaimed: 'Where do you think I can go to now? We had three weeks at our
disposal, and here is a fortnight gone! I cannot continue my journey now;
and, in any case, I am not going to Venice, Florence, and Rome all by
myself. But you will pay for it, and more dearly than you think for, most
likely. You are not going to bring a man all the way from Paris in order
to shut him up at a hotel in Genoa with an Italian adventuress.'
"When I told him, very calmly, to return to Paris, he exclaimed that he
was going to do so the very next day; but the next day he was still there,
still in a rage and swearing.
"By this time we began to be known in the streets, through which we
wandered from morning till night, those narrow streets without footpaths,
which are like an immense stone labyrinth with tomb-like passages. We went
through those windy gorges, narrowed between such high walls that the sky
is hardly visible. Sometimes French people would turn round astonished at
meeting their fellow-countrymen with this bored girl in her loud clothes,
and who looked singularly out of place, not to say compromising, beside
us.
"She used to walk along, leaning on my arm, without looking at anything.
Why did she remain with me, with us, who seemed to give her so little
pleasure? Who was she? Where did she come from? What was she doing? Had
she any plan or idea? How did she live? As an adventuress, or by chance
meetings? I tried in vain to find out and to explain it. The better I knew
her the more enigmatical she became. She was not one of those who make a
living by, and a profession of, venal love. She rather seemed to me to be
a girl of poor family who had been seduced and taken away, and then cast
aside and lost. What did she think was going to become of her, or for whom
was she waiting? She certainly did not appear to be trying to make a
conquest of me, or to get any profit out of me.
"I tried to question her, to speak to her of her childhood and family;
but she never gave me an answer. I stayed with her, my heart unfettered
and my senses enchained, never wearied of holding this proud and
quarrelsome woman in my arms, captivated by my senses, or rather seduced,
overcome, by the youthful, healthy, powerful charm which emanated from her
sweet-smelling person and from the robust lines of her body.
"Another week passed, and the term of my holiday was drawing to a
close, for I had to be back in Paris by July 11. By this time Paul had
come to take his part in the adventure, though still grumbling at me,
while I invented pleasures, distractions, and excursions to amuse my
mistress and my friend; and in order to do this I gave myself a large
amount of trouble.
"One day I proposed an excursion to Santa Margarita, a charming little
town in the midst of gardens, hidden at the foot of a slope which
stretches far into the sea. We all three were following the excellent
road which goes along the foot of the mountain. Suddenly Francesca said
to me: 'I shall not be able to go with you to-morrow; I must go and see
some of my relatives.'
"That was all; I did not ask her any questions, as I was quite sure she
would not answer me."
"The next morning she got up very early; then as I remained in bed,
she sat down at the foot of it, and said in a constrained and hesitating
voice:
"'If I do not come back to-night, will you come and fetch me?'
"'Most certainly I shall,' was my reply. 'Where must I come to?'
"Then she explained: 'You must go into Victor-Emmanuel Street, down
the Passage Falcone, and Saint Raphael Street, and go into the furniture
shop at the bottom, in a court, and there you must ask for Mme Rondoli.
That's where it is.'
"And so she went away, leaving me rather astonished.
"When Paul saw that I was alone he stammered out: 'Where is Francesca?'
And when I told him what had happened he exclaimed:
"'My dear fellow, we are in luck, let us bolt; as it is, our time is
up. Two days, more or less, make no difference. Let us start at once; go
and pack up your things. Off we go!'
"But I refused. I could not, as I told him, leave the girl in such a
manner, after having lived with her for nearly three weeks. At any rate
I ought to say good-bye to her, and make her accept a present; I certainly
had no intention of behaving badly to her.
"But he would not listen; he pressed and worried me, but I would not
give way.
"I remained indoors for several hours, expecting Francesca's return,
but she did not come. At last, at dinner, Paul said with a triumphant
air: 'She has thrown you over, my dear fellow; it is certainly very funny,
very funny.'
"I must acknowledge that I was surprised and rather vexed. He laughed
in my face, and made fun of me.
"'It is not exactly a bad way of getting rid of you, though rather
primitive. "Just wait for me, I shall be back in a moment." How long are
you going to wait? I should not wonder if you were foolish enough to go
and look for her at the address she gave you. "Does Mme Rondoli live here,
please?" I'll bet that you are longing to go there.'"
"'Not in the least,' I protested, 'and I assure you that if she does
not come back to-morrow morning I shall start by the express at eight
o'clock. I shall have waited twenty-four hours, and that is enough;
my conscience will be quite clear.'
"I spent an uneasy and unpleasant evening, for I really had at heart a
very tender feeling for her. I went to bed at twelve o'clock, and hardly
slept at all. I got up at six, called Paul, packed up my things, and two
hours later we started for France together."