“Good lord,” he said at last, “I must have had a stroke or something.”
“You’re stupid,” Lora said.
“Plunged straight into insanity by your resistible loveliness,” he declared. He turned to Roy, “Listen, young man, beware of girls with smooth placid faces, high cheekbones and a wad of red hair—”
“Lora’s hair isn’t red,” said Panther.
“The worst possible red,” Albert insisted.
“Aw stuff,” said Roy. “She’s not a girl anyway, are you, Lora?”
“Don’t mind him, he’s just being silly,” Lora smiled.
Lewis Kane said nothing, then or afterwards.
The episode meant nothing to Lora except as it concerned Lewis. She did not want him to have a false opinion of her relations with Albert Scher. It was a good thing, she remarked to herself after they had gone, that Albert hadn’t repeated his performance six years ago and carried her to the divan and tried to tear her clothes off. He might; unquestionably he had a crazy streak.
The following Sunday Albert did not come. It was a brilliant sunny October day, with the sharp exhilarating air so clear that they could see the hills far away across the Hudson, and even make out the autumn colors of the forest on the ridge the other side of the broad valley. In the middle of the afternoon Julian was sent upstairs for his routine nap, and Lora instructed the other children to stay in the yard while she and Lewis went for a walk. “Remember, don’t go away,” she said, “we’ll be back soon, and Lewis likes to have you here.”
They went at a brisk pace across the meadows, up the rise to the edge of the woods, to where an old abandoned road once had entered. There they sat on a log, panting a little from the climb, and attacked a question that remained unsettled from a previous discussion: whether Julian should be sent to kindergarten. Lewis was inclined to favor it; Lora saw no advantage in it, since Julian played enough with other children anyway; she thought he would be better off at home for at least another year. Lewis didn’t insist; he didn’t claim any rights in the matter, he said. No doubt Lora’s position was sound.
“All right, we’ll wait a year,” Lora said. She looked aside at him, and went on, “There’s something else I wanted to speak about. I thought you might think there was something queer about the way Albert acted last week.”
Lewis turned his head towards her and their eyes met. Neither held any suggestion of doubt or challenge; it was a simple meeting of glances, a greeting of understanding. Lewis smiled a little.
“You can depend on Albert to be queer,” he said.
Lora nodded. “It was foolish to mention it, I suppose.”
“Not at all. I’m glad you did.” He pulled a cockle-burr from the knee of his trousers and flipped his fingers back and forth trying to get rid of it. “I have sometimes wondered,” he went on, “what you and Albert are to each other. There’s Panther, of course, but she is obviously yours, not his. That’s true of all the children, even Julian, I’ve accepted that.” Another cockle-burr. “Of course it’s none of my business, but things often come into our minds without waiting for an invitation, and I’ve often wondered about Albert.”
“Well,” Lora said, “he’s just Albert. To me as to you.”
“So I gathered. But still... after all...”
She looked at him in surprise. Lewis searching for words!
“After all, you are a young attractive healthy woman, unencumbered by vows. And while you obviously hold men in contempt, there is evidence that you are willing to tolerate their performance of a necessary function.”
Lora laughed. “Albert would like that. But where do you get the idea that I hold men in contempt?”
“Oh, it’s obvious.” He crossed one leg over the other and turned about on the log so as to face her more directly. “It shows in everything you do; but it’s easy to get along with, it’s so good-natured. It just happens never to have bothered me, because from the beginning I’ve had the good sense to know where your fences were. And I know my own limitations. There are various ways of getting things you want out of people. Look at Albert with the children for instance; they’d do anything for him just because he knows how to act with them and what to say to them. He makes a face at Julian, or a noise like a rooster, and Julian is his. I can’t make faces and noises. I’m perfectly helpless with children and women too. So I bring them things Albert can’t afford, and as a result they’re just as anxious to see me as they are him. The same with women. I’ve got to buy what I want, and it’s easy enough, as long as you don’t forget that you can only buy what is for sale. That’s why your contempt for men doesn’t bother me; I don’t get in its path. Aside from everything else, in a purely physical way you are the most exciting and desirable woman I’ve ever known. Everything about you is provocative and seductive, the full free lines of your body, the glance of your eyes, the way you walk, the positions you take when you lie on the grass, or dance, or sit and cross your legs, particularly your mouth with that look it has of always being just ready to open though it is forever closed... I like to observe those things, but I don’t make the mistake of supposing that they have any significance for me. I know I’ve bought everything you have for sale so far as I’m concerned. What I’ve been curious about sometimes is whether it’s for sale at all or not — to anyone, for any price. Impertinent, of course. That’s why I wondered about Albert. Beyond him, I still wonder...”
“You needn’t,” Lora said.
“That’s hard to believe, but I believe it.”
“It’s true.”
“But why—” He stopped, frowning, then suddenly smiled. “You’re probably making a mistake. You mustn’t let a prejudice get between you and the possibilities you possess. I’m not arguing for myself; I know I’m out of it.” The smile broadened. “I’m not arguing for Albert either; he’s out of it too, I can see that. I guess I’m not arguing for anything, for I’m by no means anxious to jeopardize my present privileges. They are very dear to me — my greatest delight. You know that.”
As sure as you’re born, Lora thought, the poor dear is making love to me. Probably he has wanted to for quite a while, and seeing Albert kiss me has brought it out. Well, why not? It would be a nuisance. How could we manage it anyhow, with the house full of children? He could stay and sleep on the divan downstairs, and come up to my room. Then he’d have to sneak out again; that sort of thing is a nuisance. What about right here, in the woods, on the leaves? No, not outdoors with him, in the daylight. In the house then, at night. Why not, if he really wants to so much?
She smiled, and murmured, “It might be possible to extend your privileges, if you think I’m making a mistake.”
He seemed a little startled. “Well — you mustn’t suppose — you mustn’t misunderstand me, you know.”
She smiled directly into his face and shook her head.
“I won’t misunderstand you.”
“We’ll see.” He stood up and shook himself and stamped his feet on the ground. “It’s getting chilly, hadn’t we better move? Shall we go into the woods, or start back?”
They decided they had better return, and headed down the hill. They were both stiff from sitting on the log, and jumped and ran to warm up. At that sort of thing Lewis was not precisely in his element; he came down hard, without bending his knees, jolting up and down, slipping and barely saving himself a dozen times. He did look ridiculous, Lora thought, but after all when a man is over fifty years old what can you expect. In another twenty years she might have a little trouble with that hill herself.
There was no extension of privileges that night, and no further mention of it. Lewis left as usual, immediately after supper, to drive back to town — alone, since Albert had not come — and Lora spent the evening helping Roy with his arithmetic, until the children’s bedtime. Then she lit a blaze in her own room, in the fireplace which had been specially installed after Lewis had bought the house, arranged a chair and the reading-light, and settled down with a pile of magazines. This was the most luxurious hour of her day, with the children safely asleep, downstairs locked up for the night, and plenty of wood in the basket. She read a while, then sat and watched the fire. How pleasant it all was! There was going to be a little complication with Lewis apparently, but that was of no serious consequence. There was nothing at all objectionable or repugnant about him, and certainly his requirements would be moderate, you could trust him not to go to extremes. She was glad she had said what she did; she was perfectly willing — ha, there was an idea: did he mean to give Julian a brother or sister? But no, that couldn’t be what he was driving at; if that was what he wanted he would have said so in so many words. Nevertheless, it remained an idea, whether he had had it or not. She smiled at the fire, pondering whether it would be worthwhile to start that business all over again...