“Naturally I didn’t need to,” he replied, and she felt his voice inside her, and she felt the sound of him pouring into her like molten bronze into a vase. “And if I’d met you somewhere in Holland, I would have simply taken off my hat, but not talked to you. But we’re in a foreign country here …”
“What has that got to do with it?”
“I felt like talking to you … I wanted a talk with you. Can we do that as strangers?”
“Strangers …” she repeated.
“Well, all right, we’re not strangers. In fact, we are surprisingly intimately acquainted, aren’t we? Come and sit next to me and tell me how you’ve been getting on. Did you like Rome …”
“Yes,” she said.
As if by willpower he had guided her towards a chaise-longue behind a Louis XV screen, half damask, half glass — and she sank down into a rosy twilight of candles, surrounded by bouquets of pink roses in all kinds of Venetian glasses. He sat down on a pouf, leaning slightly towards her, arms across his knees, hands folded.
“There was quite a lot of talk about you in The Hague. First about your pamphlet. And then about your painter.”
Her eyes bored into him like needles. He laughed.
“You can look just as angry as you used to. Tell me, do you still hear from your family? They’re in a bad way.”
“Now and then. I was able to send them some money recently.”
“That’s damned nice of you. They don’t deserve it. They said that you’d ceased to exist for them.”
“Mama wrote to say they had such terrible money worries. So I sent a hundred guilders. I couldn’t afford any more.”
“Oh, now they see you send money, I expect you’ll exist for them again.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“I don’t care about that. I felt sorry for them. I was sorry I couldn’t send more.”
“No, not if you look so extraordinarily chic …”
“I don’t pay for this …”
“I just mention it in passing. I’m not venturing to criticise. I think it’s damned nice of you to send money. But you’re still extraordinarily chic. Listen, shall I tell you something. You’ve grown into a damned beautiful woman.”
He looked at her with that smile of his, which she had to look at. Then she answered very calmly, waving her fan lightly over her bare neck, concealed in the froth of her fan:
“I’m damned pleased you think so.”
He guffawed loudly.
“Right, I like that, you’re still good at witty repartee. Always on the ball. Damned good show!”
She got up, nervous, her face contorted.
“I must leave you, I have to go to Mrs Uxeley.”
He spread his arms a little.
“Stay and sit for a bit. It’s a tonic talking to you.”
“Restrain yourself a bit then and don’t ‘damn’ so much. I’m not used to it any more.”
“I’ll do my best, if you stay.”
She flopped down and hid behind her fan.
“Let me say then that you really have become a very, very beautiful woman. Is that what you call a compliment?”
“It’s more like it.”
“Well, I can’t do any better than that, you know. You’ll have to make do with that. So tell me something about Rome. What was your life like there?”
“Why should I tell you?”
“Because I’m interested.”
“You’ve no business to be interested in me …”
“No, but I just am. I’ve never forgotten you completely. And I’d be amazed if you’d forgotten me.”
“Completely,” she said coolly.
He looked at her with that smile of his. He did not reply, but she sensed that he knew better. She was afraid to go on trying to persuade him.
“Is it true what they say in The Hague? About Van der Staal?”
She looked at him loftily.
“Well, tell me …”
“Yes …”
“My, you’re a shameless one. Don’t you care about anything any more?”
“No …”
“And how are you getting on here, with the old woman?”
“How do you mean?”
“Do they accept that just like that here in Nice?”
“I don’t flaunt my independence and my behaviour here is beyond reproach.”
“Where is Van der Staal?”
“In Florence.”
“Why isn’t he here? …”
“I don’t feel like giving any more answers. You’re being indiscreet. It’s no business of yours and I won’t be interrogated.”
She became very agitated and got up again. He stretched out his arms.
“Really, Rudolf, let me go,” she begged him. “I must see Mrs Uxeley. They’re dancing a pavane in the ballroom and I have to receive and give some orders. Let me go.”
“I’ll take you then. May I offer you my arm.”
“Rudolf, please go away. Can’t you see how nervous you’re making me? It was so unexpected meeting you again here. Please go away, leave me alone, otherwise I won’t be able to keep up appearances. I’ll start crying. Why did you speak to me, why did you come here, where you knew you would meet me?”
“Because I wanted to see one of Mrs Uxeley’s parties, and because I wanted to meet you.”
“Surely you realise that seeing you again makes me nervous. What good does that do you? We’re dead for each other … What’s the point of taunting me like this …”
“That’s precisely what I’d like to know. Whether we’re dead for each other.”
“Dead, dead, completely dead!” she cried violently.
He laughed.
“Come on, stop being so theatrical. Surely you can understand that I was curious to see you again and talk to you. I saw you in the streets, in your carriage, on the Jetée, and I liked seeing you looking so good, so chic, so happy, and so lovely. You know that I simply have a great weakness for beautiful women. You’re much lovelier than you were when you were my wife. If you had been as you are now back then, I would never have divorced you … Come on, don’t be childish. No one knows us here. I think it’s damn wonderful to meet you here, to chat to you and give you my arm. Take my arm. Stop nagging and I’ll take you where you have to go. Where will we find Mrs Uxeley? … Introduce me … as an acquaintance from Holland …”
“Rudolf …”
“Come on, I want to, stop nagging. What harm will it do? It amuses me, and it’s fun walking around with your ex-wife at a ball in Nice. Wonderful town, isn’t it? I go to Monte Carlo every day, and I’ve been damn lucky. Won three thousand francs yesterday. Do you fancy coming with me …?”
“You’re out of your mind!”
“I’m not out of my mind. I want to enjoy myself. And I’m proud to have you on my arm.”
She pulled her arm free.
“There’s nothing for you to be proud about …”
“Now don’t get spiteful, I’m just joking; let’s enjoy ourselves. There’s the old woman … She’s looking for you.”
She had gone through a number of rooms on his arm and at a tombola, where people were jostling to win gifts and trinkets, they saw Mrs Uxeley, Gilio and the ladies Rosavilla, Costi and Luca. They were very cheerful, acting like children round the pyramid of baubles, when the roulette wheel had come up with their number.
“Mrs Uxeley,” Cornélie began, her voice trembling. “May I introduce a compatriot of mine, Baron Brox …”
Mrs Uxeley fluttered, and said a few friendly words, and asked if he would like to draw a number … The roulette wheel spun …
“A countryman of yours, Cornélie?”
“Yes, Mrs Uxeley.”
“How do you … say his name?”
“Baron Brox …”
“A splendid fellow! A handsome man! An amazingly handsome specimen. What is he, what does he do?”
“He’s an officer, a first lieutenant …”