Part 18 (1/2)

The dwarf walked, inhaling the warm whiffs of benzine, the smell of foliage that seemed to rot with the overabundance of green sap, and twirled his cane, and pursed his lips as if about to whistle, so great was the sense of liberation and lightness overwhelming him. His mistress had seen him off with such hurried tenderness, had laughed so nervously, that he realized how much she feared that her old father, who always came to lunch, would begin to suspect something if he found a strange gentleman in the house.

That day he was seen everywhere: in the park, where a rosy nurse in a starched bonnet offered him for some reason a ride in the pram she was pus.h.i.+ng; and in the halls of a great museum; and on the escalator that slowly crept out of rumbling depths where electric winds blew among brilliant posters; and in an elegant shop where only men's handkerchiefs were sold; and on the crest of a bus, where he was hoisted by someone's kind hands.

And after a while he became tired-all that motion and glitter dazed him, the laughing eyes staring at him got on his nerves, and he felt he must ponder carefully the ample sensation of freedom, pride, and happiness which kept accompanying him.

When finally a hungry Fred entered the familiar restaurant where all kinds of performers gathered and where his presence could not surprise anyone, and when he looked around at those people, at the old dull clown who was already drunk, at the Frenchman, a former enemy, who now gave him a friendly nod, Mr. Dobson realized with perfect clarity that never again would he appear on the stage.

The place was darkish, with not enough lamps lit inside and not enough outside day filtering in. The dull clown resembling a ruined banker, and the acrobat who looked oddly uncouth in mufti, were playing a silent game of dominoes. The Spanish dancing girl, wearing a cartwheel hat that cast a blue shadow on her eyes, sat with crossed legs all alone at a corner table. There were half a dozen people whom Fred did not know; he examined their features which years of make-up had bleached; meanwhile the waiter brought a cus.h.i.+on to prop him up, changed the tablecloth, nimbly laid the cover.

All at once, in the dim depths of the restaurant, Fred distinguished the delicate profile of the conjuror, who was talking in undertone to an obese old man of an American type. Fred had not expected to run here into Shock-who never frequented taverns-and in point of fact had totally forgotten about his existence. He now felt so sorry for the poor magician that, at first, he decided to conceal everything; but then it occurred to him that Nora could not cheat anyway and would probably tell her husband that very evening (”I've fallen in love with Mr. Dobson.... I'm leaving you”)-and that she should be spared a difficult, disagreeable confession, for was he not her knight, did he not feel proud of her love, should he not, therefore, be justified in causing her husband pain, no matter the pity?

The waiter brought him a piece of kidney pie and a bottle of ginger beer. He also switched on more light. Here and there, above the dusty plush, crystal flowers glowed forth, and the dwarf saw from afar a golden gleam bring out the conjuror's chestnut forelock, and the light and shade shuttle over his tender transparent fingers. His interlocutor rose, clawing at the belt of his pants and obsequiously grinning, and Shock accompanied him to the cloakroom. The fat American donned a wide-brimmed hat, shook Shock's ethereal hand, and, still hitching up his pants, made for the exit. Momentarily one discerned a c.h.i.n.k of lingering daylight, while the restaurant lamps glowed yellower. The door closed with a thud.

”Shock!” called the Potato Elf, wiggling his short feet under the table.

Shock came over. On his way, he pensively took a lighted cigar out of his breast pocket, inhaled, let out a puff of smoke, and put the cigar back. n.o.body knew how he did it.

”Shock,” said the dwarf, whose nose had reddened from the ginger beer, ”I must speak to you. It is most important.”

The conjuror sat down at Fred's table and leaned his elbow upon it.

”How's your head-doesn't hurt?” he inquired indifferently.

Fred wiped his lips with the napkin; he did not know how to start, still fearing to cause his friend too much anguish.

”By the way,” said Shock, ”tonight I appear together with you for the last time. That chap is taking me to America. Things look pretty good.”

”I say, Shock-” and the dwarf, crumbling bread, groped for adequate words. ”The fact is ... Be brave, Shock. I love your wife. This morning, after you left, she and I, we two, I mean, she-”

”Only I'm a bad sailor,” mused the conjuror, ”and it's a week to Boston. I once sailed to India. Afterwards I felt as a leg does when it goes to sleep.”

Fred, flus.h.i.+ng purple, rubbed the tablecloth with his tiny fist. The conjuror chuckled softly at his own thoughts, and then asked, ”You were about to tell me something, my little friend?”

The dwarf looked into his ghostly eyes and shook his head in confusion.

”No, no, nothing.... One can't talk to you.”

Shock's hand stretched out-no doubt he intended to snip out a coin from Fred's ear-but for the first time in years of masterly magic, the coin, not grasped by the palm muscles firmly enough, fell out the wrong way. He caught it up and rose.

”I'm not going to eat here,” said he, examining curiously the crown of the dwarf's head. ”I don't care for this place.”

Sulky and silent, Fred was eating a baked apple.

The conjuror quietly left. The restaurant emptied. The languorous Spanish dancer in the large hat was led off by a shy, exquisitely dressed young man with blue eyes.

Well, if he doesn't want to listen, that settles it, reflected the dwarf; he sighed with relief and decided that after all Nora would explain things better. Then he asked for notepaper and proceeded to write her a letter. It closed as follows: Now you understand why I cannot continue to live as before. What feelings would you experience knowing that every evening the common herd rocks with laughter at the sight of your chosen one? I am breaking my contract, and tomorrow I shall be leaving. You will receive another letter from me as soon as I find a peaceful nook where after your divorce we shall be able to love one another, my Nora.

Thus ended the swift day given to a dwarf in mouse-colored spats.

6.

London was cautiously darkening. Street sounds blended in a soft hollow note, as if someone had stopped playing but still kept his foot on the piano pedal. The black leaves of the limes in the park were patterned against the transparent sky like aces of spades. At this or that turning, or between the funereal silhouettes of twin towers, a burning sunset was revealed like a vision.

It was Shock's custom to go home for dinner and change into professional tails so as to drive afterwards straight to the theater. That evening Nora awaited him most impatiently, quivering with evil glee. How glad she was to have now her own private secret! The image of the dwarf himself she dismissed. The dwarf was a nasty little worm.

She heard the lock of the entrance door emit its delicate click. As so often happens when one has betrayed a person, Shock's face struck her as new, as almost that of a stranger. He gave her a nod, and shamefully, sadly lowered his long-lashed eyes. He took his place opposite her at the table without a word. Nora considered his light-gray suit that made him seem still more slender, still more elusive. Her eyes lit up with warm triumph; one corner of her mouth twitched malevolently.

”How's your dwarf?” she inquired, relis.h.i.+ng the casualness of her question. ”I thought you'd bring him along.”

”Haven't seen him today,” answered Shock, beginning to eat. All at once he thought better of it-took out a vial, uncorked it with a careful squeak, and tipped it over a gla.s.sful of wine.

Nora expected with irritation that the wine would turn a bright blue, or become as translucent as water, but the claret did not change its hue. Shock caught his wife's glance and smiled dimly.

”For the digestion-just drops,” he murmured. A shadow rippled across his face.

”Lying as usual,” said Nora. ”You've got an excellent stomach.”

The conjuror laughed softly. Then he cleared his throat in a businesslike way, and drained his gla.s.s in one gulp.

”Get on with your food,” said Nora. ”It will be cold.”

With grim pleasure she thought, Ah, if you only knew. You'll never find out. That's my power!

The conjuror ate in silence. Suddenly he made a grimace, pushed his plate away, and started to speak. As usual, he kept looking not directly at her, but a little above her, and his voice was melodious and soft. He described his day, telling her he had visited the king at Windsor, where he had been invited to amuse the little dukes, who wore velvet jackets and lace collars. He related all this with light vivid touches, mimicking the people he had seen, twinkling, c.o.c.king his head slightly.

”I produced a whole flock of white doves from my gibus,” said Shock.

And the dwarf's little palms were clammy, and you're making it all up, reflected Nora in brackets.

”Those pigeons, you know, went flying around the queen. She shoo-flied them but kept smiling out of politeness.”

Shock got up, swayed, lightly leaned on the table edge with two fingers, and said, as if completing his story: ”I'm not feeling well, Nora. That was poison I drank. You shouldn't have been unfaithful to me.”

His throat swelled convulsively, and, pressing a handkerchief to his lips, he left the dining room. Nora sprang up; the amber beads of her long necklace caught at the fruit knife upon her plate and brushed it off.

It's all an act, she thought bitterly. Wants to scare me, to torment me. No, my good man, it's no use. You shall see!

How vexing that Shock had somehow discovered her secret! But at least she would now have the opportunity to reveal all her feelings to him, to shout that she hated him, that she despised him furiously, that he was not a person, but a phantom of rubber, that she could not bear to live with him any longer, that- The conjuror sat on the bed, all huddled up and gritting his teeth in anguish, but he managed a faint smile when Nora stormed into the bedroom.