Immediately before and immediately after the advent of her “courses" her sentiment of actual desire would doubtless increase, as she had caused me to be invited just on the day when she was menstruating. She was no longer unwell on the twenty-fifth or twenty-seventh, but had jumped to the middle of the month.
Last year, I had sent Papa and Mamma a parcel of smoked fish. On the eighth of December 1898, I repeated my little attention, and on the twelfth, the post brought me this note, which is dated the tenth, and bears the postmark of the following day.
LILIAN TO JACKY.
Sonis-sur-Marne. December 10, 1898.
My dear M. S.,
We have just received a parcel of delicious fish. Naturally, we suppose that it is you who, according to your charming custom, have had that delicate attention, for nobody but you could show himself so amiable in everything.
Mamma begs me to be her interpreter with you, so as to thank you, and charges me to tell you that she would have been very happy to have you for lunch and dinner, but she will not bore you beyond measure with the society of two women, knowing well that it is preferable that Papa should be there to receive you better. Therefore, we put off the pleasure of having you amongst us until the return of Papa.
Mamma joins me in begging you to accept the assurance of our sincere friendship,
LILIAN ARVEL.
Here is news of her during menstruation, or when she is due; a sure sign of nervous, psychic trouble, for this note came exactly a month after her last “turn.”
I did not write, as it would have been uncalled for, and I heard nothing of Lilian until the morning of Boxing Day.
LILIAN TO JACKY.
Sonis-sur-Marne. December 25, 1898.
We hope you have spent a Merry Christmas and that the New Year may bring with it the realization of your wishes.
We have Monsieur and Madame Poqui, “local residents,” to dine with us to-morrow, Monday night. They are very simple people. The lady is an excellent pianist. Will you come down in the afternoon to go for a walk and dine with us? There will be no ceremony or dress. “Dog clothes" allowed.
Papa brought you over some tobacco and a thousand matches.
With every good wish, believe me to remain,
Yours very sincerely,
LILIAN ARVEL.
December 26, 1898.
According to French custom, I was bound at this festive time of year to give presents down at the Villa Lilian, where I had partaken of so many meals, so I bought for Mamma: a jar, or tea-caddy, of Dresden porcelain, with a silver-gilt screw top, filled with tea, and for Lilian: a small, ancient looking-glass, or hand mirror, with solid silver frame and handle, of the Louis XV epoch.
I went in answer to the invitation, carrying with me the presents, which comprised both Christmas and New Year's obligations.
I was affectionately greeted by Mamma, and Lilian soon appeared, called down by her parent to receive her present.
She was very pleased to see me, I was sure of it, as I watched her narrowly. She had taken a little trouble with her toilette, and her face was thickly powdered, while she had reddened her lips. This was new to me.
She looked older and bolder, but as I greeted her, she seemed very confused and turned red and white by turns. Her hands trembled a little. She did not speak very plainly, being all of a heap, and in her excitement, she said:
“What a long time it is since we have seen you! You never honour us with your presence now.”
“I come when I am invited! Here is a little friend I have brought you.”
“I want no little friends!”
“But this is a friend who will always tell you the truth, after a few moments reflection. As I know you love truth, and detest lies-here is a mirror for you! And I wish you a happy new year!”
She reciprocated my wishes, and was delighted with my gift. But she said very little, and the more gay and lively I was, the duller she became.
I went for a walk with the father. When I returned, she fetched me, pretexting that she wanted me to come and help her to get linen out for the dinner-table from Mamma's cupboard in the best bedroom, and we were alone.
I was indifferent. I kept a watch on myself and found I did not have the same desire that I formerly felt whenever I was near her, breathing the same atmosphere.
Seeing me so nonchalant, she began to show a little temper, and in return to some cool remark of mine, made use of a very coarse exclamation, amounting to: “I don't care a damn!”
I replied that I had nothing to say in answer to such talk, and to annoy me, and probably excite my jealousy, she told me that she had a customer who was going to give her a ring.
“A customer, eh?” I replied. “Male or female?”
“A lady, of course! Customers often give presents. Lolotte had one given to her.”
“I know such things are often done in the rue de la Paix, but then the girls who get the presents are forced to suck the ladies who are so generous, or let themselves be licked and played with.”
“You are a most awful, dirty man, and very impudent to talk to me like this!”
“What does it matter? You have nothing in common with me any more.”
“Of course I have not! But I have got a new sweetheart!”
She paused for a reply. None came. I laughed.
“He is an officer-a lieutenant. And through him I shall get favors for my brother. My sweet officer has given me a silver châtelaine. “
I congratulated her warmly, and with genuine pleasure. I really did not care for anything she might say to me, true or untrue. Did she think she could arouse the jealousy of the man who had himself handed her naked body over to his friend? Yes, I suppose so. I knew there were men who did not mind infidelities as long as they were committed in their presence. Otherwise, they were jealous. I use the word advisedly, as I can find no other under my pen. I, luckily, had no such mixed feelings. Before abandoning her to Fontarcy, I had put a severe question to myself: “Will you be jealous later? If so, beware, Jacky, of the green-eyed monster.”
I answered the small voice of my conscience, as follows:
“Lilian is ambitious and mercenary. She had been perverted before you knew her. Nothing can save her. So amuse yourself with her as long as she lets you, without fear or remorse. She is a perfect toy, for a debauchee like yourself. All you can ask is that she should act honestly with you.”
Finding I was not to be drawn out and that nothing she said had the slightest effect on me, she got a little more calm and a trifle kinder, and before going downstairs to the dining-room to lay the cloth with the linen she had got out, I asked her to kiss me. She refused, and then, grave for the first time, I told her I should never ask her again. So she gave me her mouth.
We had some more skirmishing talk in the dining-room, and I told her that it was no use to be so nasty-tempered, as I knew she could not live without me.
Here she pretended to turn up the lamp, and hid her face from me, not answering. I now noticed that whenever she was in a quandary as to what to reply to me, she said nothing. I always interpreted her silence as a hit for me.
“Somebody has been putting me away with you? Perhaps Charlotte has been speaking against me?”
“Oh, no, the poor girl!” she replied.
I found that she was redolent with a very powerful, pungent scent, in which musk predominated. In answer to whether it was any of my making, she refused to give me satisfaction, but I at last elicited that it was a mixture of “Le Jardin de Mon Curé” and “ambre.” The first-named coming from an expensive house in Paris, I guessed that her new lover or lovers had given it to her.