Part 15 (1/2)
”It must be thorough.”
”Very well.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”I WANT TO SEE MONSIEUR TULITZ,” SHE SAID.]
”Please take off your hat and let down your hair.”
She did as she was bidden, and a great ma.s.s of dark hair tumbled nearly to her feet. The matron immediately and with practiced dexterity twisted it up again. Then her shoes, dress, and corsets were removed, until the matron was enabled to tell that nothing could by any possibility be concealed about her.
”It's all right,” said the matron. ”I'm sorry to trouble you so much, but I have to be very careful.”
”You needn't apologize. Now can I go?”
”Yes.”
She adjusted her hat and proceeded through the long corridors out into the prison yard, and thence into the old prison where Tulitz was confined. The guard who had sent her Tulitz's letter led her to his cell, and brought a stool for her to sit upon outside his grated iron door.
”My _ravissante_ Corinne!” cried Tulitz.
She put her fingers through the bars, and he bent to kiss them, coming, as he did so, in contact with two little files of the hardest steel.
”_Diable!_” he said.
”I had them in my hat. I made them serve as the stems of these lilies.”
”Ze woman she make ze wily t'ing. How young and _charmante_ she seem for one so like ze fox! Ah, Corinne, my sweetest lofe--”
”You don't mean that.”
”Not mean him! _Mon Dieu!_ How can you haf ze heart to say ze cruel word. Corinne, you are ze only frient I haf in ze whole bad worlt.”
”Yes, I know that. But not the only wife.”
”Why you torture me so, Corinne?”
”I wont. We'll let it go. You need me, I suppose?”
”You use all ze cold word, Corinne. I neet you! _Oui, oui_, I efer neet you. I neet you ven I stay from you ze longest. I neet you ven ze bad come into my heart and drive out ze good and tender, and leave only ze hard, and make me crazy and full of dream of fortune. Zen I am out of myself and den I neet you ze most, Corinne. Zat I haf been cruel and vicked, I know, but I am punish now. Now, I neet you in my despair, but if you come to speak bitter, I am sorry to haf send for you.”
”I'll not be bitter, Tulitz. I don't believe you love me, and I never will believe it again. So don't say tender things. They only make me sad. Tell me what--”
”You do pelief I lofe you.”
”No.”
”_Cherie._”
”Don't, Tulitz!”
”You know I haf a so hot blood. It tingle viz lofe for you and I am sane. Zen I dream. I see some strange sight--power, money, ze people at my feet--ze people I hate, bah! I see zem all bend. Zen I am insane and my very lofe make me vorse. Ah, Corinne, if you see my heart, you vould not speak so cold. If I could preak zis iron door zat bar me from you and draw you close to me, Corinne, vere you could feel ze quick beat zat say, 'lofe! lofe! lofe!'--if I could take your hand and kees--”
”Tulitz!”