“You must have left school very young?”
“Yes. I couldn’t bear school. I got myself expelled.”
“However did you do that?”
“I told the headmistress I was going to have a baby.”
“Oh, rot, Sally, you didn’t!”
“I did, honestly! There was the most terrible commotion. They got a doctor to examine me, and sent for my parents. When they found out there was nothing the matter, they were most frightfully disappointed. The headmistress said
30
that a girl who could even think of anything so disgusting couldn’t possibly be allowed to stay on and corrupt the other girls. So I got my own way. And then I pestered Daddy till he said I might go to London.”
Sally had settled down in London, at a hostel, with other girl students. There, in spite of supervision, she had managed to spend large portions of the night at young men’s fiats: “The first man who seduced me had no idea I was a virgin until I told him afterwards. He was marvellous. I adored him. He was an absolute genius at comedy parts. He’s sure to be terribly famous, one day.”
After a time, Sally had got crowd-work in films, and finally a small part in a touring company. Then she had met Diana.
“And how much longer shall you stay in Berlin?” I asked.
“Heaven knows. This job at the Lady Windermere only lasts another week. I got it through a man I met at the Eden Bar. But he’s gone off to Vienna now. I must ring up the Ufa people again, I suppose. And then there’s an awful old Jew who takes me out sometimes. He’s always promising to get me a contract; but he only wants to sleep with me, the old swine. I think the men in this country are awful. They’ve none of them got any money, and they expect you to let them seduce you if they give you a box of chocolates.”
“How on earth are you going to manage when this job comes to an end?”
“Oh well, I get a small allowance from home, you know. Not that that’ll last much longer. Mummy’s already threatened to stop it if I don’t come back to England soon… . Of course, they think I’m here with a girl friend. If Mummy knew I was on my own, she’d simply pass right out. Anyhow, I’ll get enough to support myself somehow, soon. I loathe taking money from them. Daddy’s business is in a frightfully bad way now, from the slump.”
“I say, Sallyif you ever really get into a mess I wish you’d let me know.”
Sally laughed: “That’s terribly sweet of you, Chris. But I don’t sponge on my friends.”
31
“Isn’t Fritz your friend?” It had jumped out of my mouth. But Sally didn’t seem to mind a bit.
“Oh yes, I’m awfully fond of Fritz, of course. But he’s got pots of cash. Somehow, when people have cash, you feel differently about themI don’t know why.”
“And how do you know I haven’t got pots of cash, too?”
“You?” Sally burst out laughing. “Why, I knew you were hard-up the first moment I set eyes on you!”
The afternoon Sally came to tea with me, Frl. Schroeder was beside herself with excitement. She put on her best dress for the occasion and waved her hair. When the doorbell rang, she threw open the door with a flourish: “Herr Issyvoo,” she announced, winking knowingly at me and speaking very loud, “there’s a lady to see you!”
I then formally introduced Sally and Frl. Schroeder to each other. Frl. Schroeder was overflowing with politeness: she addressed Sally repeatedly as “Gnädiges Fräulein.” Sally, with her page-boy cap stuck over one ear, laughed her silvery laugh and sat down elegantly on the sofa. Frl. Schroeder hovered about her in unfeigned admiration and amazement. She had evidently never seen anyone like Sally before. When she brought in the tea there were, in place of the usual little chunks of pale unappetising pastry, a plateful of jam tarts arranged in the shape of a star. I noticed also that Frl. Schroeder had provided us with two tiny paper serviettes, perforated at the edges to resemble lace. (When, later, I complimented her on these preparations, she told me that she had always used the serviettes when the Herr Rittmeister had had his fiancée to tea. “Oh, yes, Herr Issyvoo. You can depend on me! I know what pleases a young lady!”)
“Do you mind if I lie down on your sofa, darling?” Sally asked, as soon as we were alone.
“No, of course not.”
Sally pulled off her cap, swung her little velvet shoes up on to the sofa, opened her bag and began powdering: “I’m
32
most terribly tired. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I’ve got a marvellous new lover.”
I began to put out the tea. Sally gave me a sidelong glance:
“Do I shock you when I talk like that, Christopher darling?”
“Not in the least.”
“But you don’t like it?”
“It’s no business of mine.” I handed her the tea-glass.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” cried Sally, “don’t start being English! Of course it’s your business what you think!”
“Well then, if you want to know, it rather bores me.”
This annoyed her even more than I had intended. Her tone changed: she said coldly: “I thought you’d understand.” She sighed: “But I forgotyou’re a man.”
“I’m sorry, Sally. I can’t help being a man, of course… . But please don’t be angry with me. I only meant that when you talk like that it’s really just nervousness. You’re naturally rather shy with strangers, I think: so you’ve got into this trick of trying to bounce them into approving or disapproving of you, violently. I know, because I try it myself, sometimes… . Only I wish you wouldn’t try it on me, because it just doesn’t work and it only makes me feel embarrassed. If you go to bed with every single man in Berlin and come and tell me about it each time, you still won’t convince me that you’re La Dame aux Caméliasbecause, really and truly, you know, you aren’t.”
“No … I suppose I’m not” Sally’s voice was carefully impersonal. She was beginning to enjoy this conversation. I had succeed in flattering her in some new way: “Then what am I, exactly, Christopher darling?”
“You’re the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Jackson-Bowles.”
Sally sipped her tea: “Yes … I think I see what you mean… . Perhaps you’re right… . Then you think I ought to give up having lovers altogether?”
“Certainly I don’t. As long as you’re sure you’re really enjoying yourself.”
“Of course,” said Sally gravely, after a pause, “I’d never let love interfere with my work. Work comes before everything.
33
… But I don’t believe that a woman can be a great actress who hasn’t had any love-affairs” she broke off suddenly: “What are you laughing at, Chris?”
“I’m not laughing.”
“You’re always laughing at me. Do you think I’m the most ghastly idiot?”
“No, Sally. I don’t think you’re an idiot at all. It’s quite true, I was laughing. People I like often make me want to laugh at them. I don’t know why.”
“Then you do like me, Christopher darling?”
“Yes, of course 1 like you, Sally. What did you think?”
“But you’re not in love with me, are you?”
“No. I’m not in love with you.”
“I’m awfully glad, I’ve wanted you to like me ever since we first met. But I’m glad you’re not in love with me, because, somehow, I couldn’t possibly be in love with youso, if you had been, everything would have been spoilt.”
“Well then, that’s very lucky, isn’t it?”
“Yes, very …” Sally hesitated. “There’s something I want to confess to you, Chris darling… . I’m not sure if you’ll understand or not.”
“Remember, I’m only a man, Sally.”
Sally laughed: “It’s the most idiotic little thing. But somehow, I’d hate it if you found out without my telling you… . You know, the other day, you said Fritz had told you my mother was French?”