Part 22 (1/2)
”Because you think that nothing on earth moves me or interests me, don't you? There you are wrong. Before I gave rein to this disgraceful pa.s.sion, I lived in a state of perpetual interest in all things. Cities, mountains, rivers, the ocean, society, art, pa.s.sing affections, everything moved me and attracted me. To-day all these things are objects of loathing in my eyes. Barren boredom, a wearing contempt, and a causeless weariness dog me everywhere, surrounding me like poisonous vapors. All the nerves of my life are parched--except one. When this is stirred, my being trembles, my faculties are roused, the horrible spell that binds me is broken, and daylight breaks upon my spirit----”
”Better say night. A bad conscience has need of night.”
”Conscience always stops on the steps of the temple of love. Did you ever know anyone who, truly in love with a woman, devoured by desire for her, has been hindered by conscience? I know n.o.body. If any human being came to me with a tale like that, I should tell him frankly that he lied. No mouse ever hesitated before cheese; no man before a woman, in fear of his conscience.”
”All the worse for men if that is so. But I repeat it is not about this that I wish to speak at this moment. At the risk of your carrying out your half-veiled threats, I am resolved to put an end to this persecution, and it shall be ended. Indeed, it shall be ended!”
”Do you know one thing, Cristina? I have come to think that you enjoy being obstinate rather than virtuous.”
”Do you know another thing, Castell? I have always thought that there is no love whatever in your make-up, but, instead, a monstrous vanity that has need of satisfying itself at the cost of the honor and happiness of your best friend.”
”If there was nothing in me but vanity, how long would it have taken it to be revenged upon this scorn, these insults? I doubt if there is a woman in the world who knows how better to cut the heart with a gesture, envenom the soul, and fill it with mad anger by a glance. I am persuaded that you cannot love, but only scorn, a man. If you condescend to your husband, it is because he is a poor, miserable thing who doesn't dare hold up his head in your presence.”
”Spare your insults! This is well! If you had always talked like this, I should have been saved much pain. Now let us come to the other matter.
It is absolutely necessary that from this night henceforth you must cease to mortify me, either with words, looks, or hints of any kind. It is absolutely necessary that, if you cannot treat me with respect as the wife of your friend, I should be to you as any indifferent person. And, further, I am resolved, thinking everything over, to give an account of what has pa.s.sed to my husband.”
”This is decreed?” he asked in a mocking tone.
”This is decreed!” she said angrily.
There was a pause.
”And are you not afraid,” he asked at last, speaking slowly, ”if following upon the thousand tortures and humiliations that you have made me suffer, and my despair of ever being successful with you, if no compa.s.sion follows, that my love might be turned into hate, and that I take means that the event which overthrows me should engulf you and yours in yet more frightful ruin?”
”No, I am not afraid,” she replied with fiery pride.
”You do well. I shall not take any revenge whatever.”
”You may do it if you choose,” she interrupted him impetuously. ”Emilio is a man who likes luxuries and comforts, I know, but he cares very much more for his wife and his honor. If the alternative were offered him, he would give his fortune gladly, if not also his life. So you may ruin him as soon as you please. If nothing is left us, we two can go to work. But when he finds himself in somebody's office as a humble clerk, n.o.body can come up to him and call him a complaisant husband; and when I go through the streets, the people in Valencia may lean out of their balcony windows and say: 'This poor woman that we see there with a basket on her arm used to have her carriage and go dressed in her silks;' but they shall not say, I swear it, 'She who goes yonder is a prost.i.tute.'”
Her voice sank as she uttered the word. I felt my throat constrict.
”Oh, oh! this is too much!” exclaimed Castell.
”Yes.” She repeated the word firmly. ”And it is all the same whether one sells oneself for fear or to get money.”
”Pardon me, Cristina, but it seems to me that you are giving the conversation rather a romantic turn. 'A basket on her arm.' This is folly! I call your good judgment in against such nonsense. Here is a man who loves you with all the strength of his soul, who to win your love would be capable of making any sacrifice, even of his life. You have already taken away all my hope, and, in abandoning the contest, at least don't make me out a seducer in a novel of the kind that stirs up the wrath of dressmakers.”
”Let us stop talking. I cannot stay here any longer,” she said. I could see that she stood up.
”Yes, let us put an end to it. I give up trying for you, but not loving you. I renounce the idea of vengeance, as I have told you. But understand, however, that this is only a truce. My hopes that you will love me some day will not be banished. Separated from you, I shall wait with patience for a time when our paths shall cross again and I shall offer you the poor heart that you have coldly trampled upon.”
”Very well. Good-by.”
Castell also stood up. More by Cristina's next words than by what I could really see, I understood that he was holding her.
”Let me go!”