Part 43 (1/2)
”Well, perhaps it is.”
”Cosier, more intime.”
She sat down with a little sigh.
”I'm going to have a cigarette.”
She drew out a thin silver case, opened it.
”A teeny Russian one.”
Claude struck a match. She put the cigarette between her lips, and leaned forward to the tiny flame.
”That's it.”
She sighed.
After a moment of silence she said:
”I'm glad you couldn't work in the little room. If you had been able to we should never have had this.”
”We!” thought Claude.
”And,” she continued, ”I feel this is the beginning of great things for you. I feel as if, without meaning to, I'd taken you away from your path, as if now I understood better. But I don't think it was quite my fault if I didn't understand. Claudie, do you know you're terribly reserved?”
”Am I?” he said.
He s.h.i.+fted in his chair, took the cigar out of his mouth, and put it back again.
”Well, aren't you? Two whole months, and you never told me you couldn't work.”
”I hated to, after you'd taken so much trouble with that room.”
”I know. But, still, directly you did tell me, I perfectly understood.
I”--she spoke with distinct pressure--”I am a wife who can understand.
Don't you remember that night at Jacques Sennier's opera?”
”Yes.”
”Didn't I understand then? At the end when they were all applauding?
I've got your letter, the letter you wrote that night. I shall always keep it. Such a burning letter, saying I had inspired you, that my love and belief had made you feel as if you could do something great if you changed your life, if you lived with me. You remember?”
”Yes, Charmian, of course I remember.”
Claude strove with all his might to speak warmly, impetuously, to get back somehow the warmth, the impulse that had driven him to write that letter. But he remembered, too, his terrible desire to get that letter back out of the box. And he felt guilty. He was glad just then that Charmian had turned out those two burners.
”In these months I think we seem to have got away from that letter, from that night.”
Claude became cold. Dread overtook him. Had she detected his lack of love? Was she going to tax him with it?