"I can't goad him into human behavior," she went on with lively
displeasure. "He must see that I am quite willing to be friendly and
light-hearted,--that I am always ready to stop dusting and sweeping and
making beds to converse with him. But all he does is to follow me about
and remind me of the solemnity of life, and tell me that he is deeply
concerned about my attitude toward the world. Fancy! It is not very
gay, you see, my acquaintance with Monsieur Smith."
I was surprised. What she said presented Smith at a new angle. I had
supposed him an idle philanderer.
"What worries him about you?" I demanded.
"He seems to think I'm an idiot. I told him I meant to take life gaily
and happily when opportunity offered, because I, probably, had only a
very short time to live. I told him that I found the world beautiful
and that I had fallen ardently in love with life. I told him that I
didn't want to die without learning a little something about men, and
that my time was short, and I ought to neglect no opportunity."
"What on earth did he say?"
"He became angry."
"Didn't he say anything?"
She blushed: "Oh, yes. He said he wouldn't be used in such a manner.
He said that he desired to be taken seriously or not at all. At which
solemn statement I laughed, naturally enough. Then he became furious,
demanding to be informed whether I had the soul of a soubrette or of a
modest and properly brought up young girl.
"And I replied that to be modest did not necessitate deceit and
hypocrisy; that I had told him the truth; that I loved life, adored
happiness, was enamored of the world, knew nothing of men but wished to:
imagined nothing more delightful than to be made love to, intended to
take advantage of the first opportunity that offered."
"W-what did he say to that, Clelia?" I faltered, utterly bewildered.
"A lot of nonsense. He tried to make me believe that love is a tragic
and solemn business--as though I were not fed up on the solemn and
tragic!
"He said I was a fool and didn't know what I was talking about. He
said, in substance, that the subject of love was one to be approached on
tip-toe, with awe, formality, prayer, and fasting. He said that such a
man as he could love only an ideal, not a human and happy thing in love
with life and willing to prove it with the first young man that passes.
He said that I alarmed and grieved him; that I am unmoral; that my
impulses are purely pagan; that the formalism of civilization alone can
sanction any impulse attraction between his sex and mine."
"What did you say?" I asked, feebly.
"I said, 'Pouf!' And I meant it."
Her color was high and her eyes very bright.
"I did like him. He was the first man I had ever had a decent chance to
talk to alone,--I mean the first young man of education. And, knowing I
hadn't much time, I was quite willing to play at being in love with him.
I told him so."
"Maybe," said I, in a weak voice, "he wanted to do more than merely play
at being in love."
"But my time is too short," she explained. "I haven't time to fall in
love. Why doesn't he take what there is to take?"
"Your time is short--what do you mean, Clelia?"
"It is."
"Are you--ill?"
"No," she said impatiently, "I'm in perfect health."
"Then--what makes you suppose you're going to die soon?"
"I can't tell you. Of course I may not die very soon. But it's likely
I shall.... And if I do I hope it will teach Mr. Smith a good lesson!"
"W-what lesson?"
"To take what offers and thank the gods!"
She looked up at me and laughed: "You'd better kiss me," she said:
"you'll never have a chance with Thusis."