Part 32 (1/2)
”He is such a child, Angele.”
”Shall we have supper now?”
”Angele--”
”I will bring a light in here, Maman, and then when Jean is back we will go in to supper.”
”He--is--such--a--child,--Angele.”
”And never on time, Maman!”
The woman caught the girl's fingers between her own.
”Answer me, Angele. Answer me!”
The girl looked down in surprise.
”But what, Maman?”
The woman's breath came quickly.
”He is a child. Say that he is a baby. He is all that I have. You and he are all--everything! Say, Angele, that he is a child! Only yesterday, you remember--the long curls? The velvet suit? Surely it was yesterday.
Say, Angele, that he--is--still--a--little--one.”
The girl threw back her head and laughed. The shadows lay like long, dark fingers on the white of her throat.
”Of course. He is young--too young even now when they take the young.
You have no need to worry, Maman. Maman--what is it?”
She had seen the sudden, far-away look in the woman's eyes.
She had seen her head stretch forward, the chin pointing, the mouth a little open.
”Maman--”
The woman's hand reached out in a gesture commanding silence.
”The voices,” the woman whispered. ”They have been after me the whole day. The voices. They--keep--coming--and--coming--to--me--I have not been able to think--for the voices--”
”Maman--”
”You say 'yes.' You are coming--nearer--nearer. No--I cannot see. But hear--Mais, it is good now! You speak distinctly. Of course I thank you for speaking so beautifully. You--say--you--want--want--”
”Pet.i.te Maman, you will make yourself ill with those old horoscopes and these voices. Pet.i.te Maman, have you not done enough for one day?”
The woman paid no attention to her. She did not seem to hear the girl.
Her face was pale; there were faint, bluish smudges about her mouth and nostrils.
”You want--I cannot--cannot understand what you want. I'm trying to understand. I'm trying hard! If you will tell it to me again.