Part 20 (1/2)
”All this,” he went on desperately, and waved his hand to indicate the sky, the sea, the mountains, ”this scene is like something remembered, clear and utterly calm; remembered across great gulfs of intervening time.”
But that was not really what he wanted to say.
”You see what I mean?” he asked dubiously. She made no reply. How could she see? ”This scene is so clear and pure and remote; you need the corresponding emotion. Those people were out of harmony. They weren't clear and pure enough.” He seemed to be getting more muddled than ever.
”It's an emotion of the young and of the old. You could feel it, I could feel it. Those people couldn't.” He was feeling his way through obscurities. Where would he finally arrive? ”Certain poems express it.
You know Francis Jammes? I have thought so much of his work lately. Art instead of life, as usual; but then I'm made that way. I can't help thinking of Jammes. Those delicate, exquisite things he wrote about Clara d'Ellebeuse.”
”Clara d'Ellebeuse?” She stopped and stared at him.
”You know the lines?” Mr. Topes smiled delightedly. ”This makes me think, you make me think of them. '_F'aime dans les temps Clara d'Ellebeuse_....' But, my dear Barbara, what is the matter?”
She had started crying, for no reason whatever.
V: NUNS AT LUNCHEON
”What have I been doing since you saw me last?” Miss Penny repeated my question in her loud, emphatic voice. ”Well, when did you see me last?”
”It must have been June,” I computed.
”Was that after I'd been proposed to by the Russian General?
”Yes; I remember hearing about the Russian General.”
Miss Penny threw back her head and laughed. Her long ear-rings swung and rattled corpses hanging in chains: an agreeably literary simile. And her laughter was like bra.s.s, but that had been said before.
”That was an uproarous incident. It's sad you should have heard of it. I love my Russian General story. '_Vos yeux me rendent fou_.'” She laughed again.
_Vos yeux_--she had eyes like a hare's, flush with her head and very bright with a superficial and expressionless brightness. What a formidable woman. I felt sorry for the Russian General.
”'_Sans coeur et sans entrallies_,'” she went on, quoting the poor devil's words. ”Such a delightful motto, don't you think? Like '_Sans peur et sans reproche_.' But let me think; what have I been doing since then?” Thoughtfully she bit into the crust of her bread with long, sharp, white teeth.
”Two mixed grills,” I said parenthetically to the waiter.
”But of course,” exclaimed Miss Penny suddenly. ”I haven't seen you since my German trip. All sorts of adventures. My appendicitis; my nun.”
”Your nun?”
”My marvellous nun. I must tell you all about her.”
”Do.” Miss Penny's anecdotes were always curious. I looked forward to an entertaining luncheon.
”You knew I'd been in Germany this autumn?”
”Well, I didn't, as a matter of fact. But still--”
”I was just wandering round.” Miss Penny described a circle in the air with her gaudily jewelled hand. She always twinkled with ma.s.sive and improbable jewellery.
”Wandering round, living on three pounds a week, partly amusing myself, partly collecting material for a few little articles. 'What it Feels Like to be a Conquered Nation'--sob-stuff for the Liberal press, you know--and 'How the Hun is Trying to Wriggle out of the Indemnity,' for the other fellows. One has to make the best of all possible worlds, don't you find? But we mustn't talk shop. Well, I was wandering round, and very pleasant I found it. Berlin, Dresden, Leipzig. Then down to Munich and all over the place. One fine day I got to Grauburg. You know Grauburg? It's one of those picture-book German towns with a castle on a hill, hanging beer-gardens, a Gothic church, an old university, a river, a pretty bridge, and forests all round. Charming. But I hadn't much opportunity to appreciate the beauties of the place. The day after I arrived there--bang!--I went down with appendicitis--screaming, I may add.”