In short, he’s backing out.
"You’ll be led by the spirits!”
I call that nerve! He doesn’t wait…He turns about… Waves good-by all round! A casual gesture!.. He trots through the bar.. With the dragon on his rear.. He goes out the door.. The men at the bar are laughing.. They’re razzing him.. I don’t say a word. I don’t look.. I just sit.. I’m waiting for him to be far away.
All in all, I dragged around like that for two or three days… I didn’t want to go pestering him. Still, I had his address.. Rotherhithe… the section just after Poplar.. But I wasn’t too keen about it… I wanted to think it over some more.. whether there mightn’t be another way.. But I didn’t want to drag around all day long. one sidewalk to another.. to get nabbed by the cops.. I find a little boardinghouse in Beckton Lane, I lie down.. fall asleep… I wake up.. Ah! feeling better!.. My mind’s made up!. I say to myself, “All right, here’s my chance!.. I’ll pull him out of bed!” I hop into the bus.. the 17… I find his place right away.. right near the bus stop… 34 Rotherhithe Mansion… no different from the other houses. I look for his name on the box. I find it! Rodiencourt 4th floor. I ring. I climb up… Here I am!..
Someone half-opens… a head..
“What is it?”
“It’s me! Ferdinand! ” I call out.. "Ferdinand for Monsieur Sosthene!”
“Go away!.. Go away!.. Monsieur Sosthene is in bed!” Ah! it’s not easy!
And the door slams! violently!.. Sorry. none of that!.. I knock.. the head reappears… the person talks French but with an accent.. American..
“What do you want?”
"I want to see Sosthene.. Monsieur Sosthene!”
"But I’ve told you…”
"I’m Monsieur Sosthene’s horseman!” I insist.. "He’s my boss!.. I’m his standard-bearer! ”
Might have known about it!..
We look each other in the face.. She’s not so young any more.. Still and all, a pretty little mug!.. She must have been quite a number once upon a time.. You can see the remains. but among the wreckage!.. What powder! cheekbones blazing with rouge.. fiery hair, a big shock full of white and yellow streaks, all unkempt, falling over her nose..
She leaves the door partly open.
"Where are you coming from?” she asks me.
She keeps her broom in her hand.. She’s been cleaning.. I explain matters to her a little.. We get into conversation.. She’s loosening up.. all the same she’s defending her door.. She’s wiggling her behind a little… in the doorway, while talking to me.. she’s getting kittenish..
Finally what with one word and another she admits he’s not in.. that he left very early.. though that wasn’t like him..
She sort of murmurs, she’s boring me.. she talks somewhat like Sosth&ne… in confidential whispers… he taught her..
"Are you American?” I ask.
"Oh yes!.. from Minnesota! ”
And she laughs.
I want details.. I try to get her to talk about traveling.. since they’ve traveled so much..
She puts down her broom.
"Does he really know China? and India? the way he says? I think he’s bluffing me.”
"Oh yes! He knows all about them!”
And then a deep sigh!.. ah! enough to pierce your soul!
And bango! she leaps to my neck!.. it’s sudden!.. I’ve set it off! Damn it, I didn’t come for that!
I push her away.. she wiggles.. she grabs me..
"I’ll tell you about it!.. I’ll tell you about it, Good-looking! I’ll tell you everything!”
She wants me to kiss her.. she insists.. She’ll tell me everything…
She’s treacherous.
“Never believe him!”
Ah! that’s interesting..
I listen.
We sit down on the folding bed.. It’s a big paneled apartment just under the roof.. trunks.. chests all over the place.. made of wicker.. wood.. iron fittings.. huge ones, little ones, of all kinds and dimensions.. Still more trunks.. open.. closed… on top of one another.. fabrics everywhere.. Chinese robes.. pottery.. books all around.. scrolls.. parchments.. lying around… a terrific disorder.. almost like Claben’s place… I get off the bed… I prefer the armchair.. embroidered with lotus flowers and what not.. more chests filled with scrolls.. they’re overflowing.. falling all over the place..
She goes back to her housework.. She rummages in a closet.
I call out to her.. “So you travel a lot?”
That interests me.
“You mean he never stops!”
She sighs again, her hair falls over her face.. She starts sweeping.. She whips up a really big cloud.. She sneezes! that’s enough!.. she’s tired… she sits down..
“Are you from Paris?”
A question.
It makes her chuckle, she thinks it’s funny that I’m from Paris.. I must be lecherous…
“I think you’re good-looking! ” she remarks.
Ah! A hot bunny! I see what’s coming, I talk about something else…
"Have you known him a long time?”
"Since we’ve been married!.. What a joke! It’ll be thirty-two years Christmas! That’s not yesterday! ”
"You’ve seen a lot of countries!”
That’s the only thing that gets me excited.
"Come over here, Good-looking!”
She invites me next to her.
"I’ll tell you the whole story! ”
Fine, very good!..
"You’re just a big bad boy, too!”
She starts pawing around!.. I don’t respond much.. all I want is details about India, etc…
"So he’ll be leaving soon?”
"Ohyes! oh yes! Darling!”
She sets the whole bed clinking.. with her fidgeting.. rubbing on the edge of it!.. She takes off her apron.. she tosses it up in the air! ah! she’s pretty nervous! she dashes off to put on some powder.. She comes right back.. She’s getting me tired…
She’s certainly not pleased that I’m not responding to her cuddling. She snorts down my neck, pecks at my eyes. I manage her as best I can… she overpowers me.. I’m being hugged.. covered up..
"Ah! what a little lecher!” she exclaims.. "Oh! he’s as lecherous as Sosthene! He’s come to seduce a poor little woman and then he’ll drop her, won’t he?.. Oh! the little scoundrel!.. the rascal! ”
Making a scene already!.. A quarter of an hour that I’ve known her! I calm her down a bit.. I kiss her right in her makeup! on her rouged cheekbone!
"Are you bored with me? Tell me, you little trifler!”
What could I answer?
I went back to kissing! I didn’t want a scene!
"So you’re going to torture me?”., she whispers passionately.
I don’t feel like torturing her!..
"You’ve suffered too, haven’t you?… I can see it in your eyes! ”
She pulls me toward her, she lifts up my eyelids… to look at the blueness of my eyes.. she’s hurting me! she’s a passionate number.. that puts her into a trance! she quivers, slips out, escapes!..
"I’m going to make some tea for you, sweetheart!.. Samovar tea!”
She disappears.. she’s busy in the back.. fussing around.. in the nook behind the partition.. she’s rattling the pots.. I take another look at the decor.. Chinese stuff everywhere.. from India.. ibises.. more papers, trunkfuls… chests.. and buddhas… a whole lotus tapestry.. and warriors.. javelins..
"Is he coming back?” I call out.
"Are you bored?” she answers.
Here she comes, balancing the samovar.. She goes back to the kitchen again… a regular coming and going! She calls out over the partition.. "You think I’m still pretty, don’t you?
.. Has he shown you my programs?.. I played the Wonderful Flower!.. for twenty years!.. Did he tell you?”
Back again.. now on my knees!.. She’s simpering.
"I was raped, my love!.. raped!.. you understand?”