II
I have been through torture this week--The new man wrenches my shouldereach day, it will become straight eventually, he says. They have triedto fit the false leg also, so those two things are going on, but thesocket is not yet well enough for anything to be done to my left eye--sothat has defeated them. It will be months before any real improvementtakes place.
There are hundreds of others who are more maimed than I--in greaterpain--more disgusting--does it give them any comfort to tell the truthto a journal?--or are they strong enough to keep it all locked up intheir hearts?--I used to care to read, all books bore me now--I cannottake interest in any single thing, and above all, I loathe myself--Mysoul is angry.
Nina came again, to luncheon this time. It was pouring with rain, anodious day. She told me of her love affairs--as a sister might--Nina asister!
She can't make up her mind whether to take Jim Bruce or RochesterMoreland, they are both Brigadiers now, Jim is a year younger than sheis.
"Rochester is really more my mate, Nicholas," she said, "but then thereare moments when I am with him when I am not sure if he would not boreme eventually, and he has too much character for me to suppress--Jimfascinates me, but I only hold him because he is not sure of me--If Imarry him he will be, and then I shall have to watch my looks, andremember to play the game all the time, and it won't be restful--aboveall, I want rest and security."
"You are not really in love with either, Nina?"
"Love?" and she smoothed out the fringe on her silk jersey with herwar-hardened hand--the hand I once loved to kiss--every blue vein onit!--"I often, wonder what really is love, Nicholas--I thought I lovedyou before the war--but, of course, I could not have--because I don'tfeel anything now--and if I had really loved you, I suppose it would nothave made any difference."
Then she realized what she had said and got up and came closer to me.
"That was cruel of me, I did not mean to be--I love you awfully as asister--always."
"Sister Nina!--well, let us get back to love--perhaps the war has killedit--or it has developed everything, perhaps it now permits a sensitive,delicious woman like you to love two men."
"You see, we have become so complicated"--she puffed smoke rings atme--"One man does not seem to fulfill the needs of every mood--Rochesterwould not understand some things that Jim would, and _vice versa_--I donot feel any glamour about either, but it is rest and certainty, as Itold you, Nicholas, I am so tired of working and going home to QueenStreet alone."
"Shall you toss up?"
"No--Rochester is coming up from the front to-morrow just for the night,I am going to dine with him at Larue's--alone, I shall sample him allthe time--I sampled Jim when he was last in London a fortnight ago--"
"You will tell me about it when you have decided, won't you, Nina. Yousee I have become a brother, and am interested in the psychologicalaspects of things."
"Of course I will"--then she went on meditatively, her rather plaintivevoice low.
"I think all our true feeling is used up, Nicholas--our souls--if wehave souls--are blunted by the war agony. Only our senses still feel.When Jim looks at me with his attractive blue eyes, and I see the D.S.O.and the M.C., and his white nice teeth--and how his hair is brushed, andhow well his uniform fits, I have a jolly all-overish sensation--and Idon't much listen to what he is saying--he says lots of love--and Ithink I would really like him all the time. Then, when he has gone Ithink of other things, and I feel he would not understand a word aboutthem, and because he isn't there I don't feel the delicious all-overishsensation, so I rather decide to marry Rochester--there would be suchrisk--because when you are married to a man, it is possible to get muchfonder of him. Jim is a year younger than I am--It would be a strain,perhaps in a year or two--especially if I got fond."
"You had better take the richer," I told her--"Money stands by one, itis an attraction which even the effects of war never varies or lessens,"and I could hear that there was bitterness in my voice.
"You are quite right," Nina said, taking no notice of it--"but I don'twant money--I have enough for every possible need, and my boy has hisown. I want something kind and affectionate to live with."
"You want a master--and a slave."
"Yes."
"Nina, when you loved me--what did you want?"
"Just you, Nicholas--just you."
"Well, I am here now, but an eye and a leg gone, and a crooked shoulder,changes me;--so it is true love--even the emotion of the soul, dependsupon material things--"
Nina thought for a while.
"Perhaps not the emotion of the soul--if we have souls?--but what weknow of love now certainly does. I suppose there are people who can lovewith the soul, I am not one of them."
"Well, you are honest, Nina."
She had her coffee and liqueur, she was graceful and composed andrefined, either Jim or Rochester will have a very nice wife.
Burton coughed when she had left.
"Out with it, Burton!"
"Mrs. Ardilawn is a kind lady, Sir Nicholas."
"Charming."
"I believe you'd be better with some lady to look after you, Sir--."
"To hell with you. Telephone for Mr. Maurice--I don't want any woman--wecan play piquet."
This is how my day ended--.
Maurice and piquet--then the widow and the divorcee for dinner--and nowalone again! The sickening rot of it all.
* * * * *
_Sunday_--Nina came for tea--she feels that I am a great comfort to herin this moment of her life, so full of indecision--It seems that Jim hasturned up too, at the Ritz, where Rochester still is, and that hisphysical charm has upset all her calculations again.
"I am really very worried Nicholas," she said, "and you, who are a dearfamily friend"--I am a family friend now!--"ought to be able to helpme."
"What the devil do you want me to do, Nina?--outset them both, and askyou to marry me?"
"My dearest Nicholas!" it seemed to her that I had suggested that sheshould marry father Xmas! "How funny you are!"
Once it was the height of her desire--Nina is eight years older than Iam--I can see now her burning eyes one night on the river in the June of1914, when she insinuated, not all playfully, that it would be good towed.
"I think you had better take Jim my dear, after all. You are evidentlybecoming in love with him and you have proved to me that the physicalcharm matters most,--or if you are afraid of that, you had better do asanother little friend of mine does when she is attracted--she takes afortnight at the sea!"
"The sea would be awful in this weather! I should send for both indesperation!" and she laughed and began to take an interest in thefurnishings of my flat. She looked over it, and Burton pointed out allits merits to her (My crutch hurts my shoulder so much to-day I did notwant to move out of my chair). I could hear Burton's remarks, but theyfell upon unheeding ears--Nina is not cut out for a nurse, my poorBurton, if you only knew--!
When she returned to my sitting room tea was in, and she poured it outfor me, and then she remarked.
"We have grown so awfully selfish, haven't we, Nicholas, but we aren'tsuch hypocrites as we were before the war. People still have lovers, butthey don't turn up their eyes so much at other people having them, asthey used. There is more tolerance--the only thing you cannot do is toact publicly so that your men friends cannot defend you--'You must notthrow your bonnet over the windmills'--otherwise you can do as youplease--."
"You had not thought of taking either Jim or Rochester for a lover tomake certain which you prefer?"
Nina looked unspeakably shocked--.
"What a dreadful idea Nicholas!--I am thinking of both _seriously_, notonly to pass the time of day remember."
"That is all lovers are for, then Nina?--I used to think--."
"Never mind what you thought, there is no reason to insult me."
"Nothing was farther from my desire."
Nina's face cleared, as it had darkened ominously.
"What will you do if, having married Rochester, you find yourselfbored--Will you send for Jim again?"
"Certainly not, that would be disaster. I shan't plunge until I feelpretty certain I am going to find the water just deep enough, and nottoo deep--and if I do make a mistake, well I shall have to stick to it."
"By Jove what a philosopher," and I laughed--She poured out a second cupof tea, and then she looked steadily at me, as though studying a newphase of me.
"You are not a bit worse off than Tom Green, Nicholas, and he has notgot your money, and Tom is as jolly as anything, and everybody loveshim, though he is a hopeless cripple, and can't even look decent, as youwill be able to in a year or two. There is no use in having thissentiment about war heroes that would make one put up with theirtempers, and their cynicism! Everybody is in the same boat, women andmen, we chance being maimed by bombs, and we are losing our looks withrough work--for goodness sake stop being so soured--."
I laughed outright--it was all so true.
* * * * *
_Friday_--Maurice brings people to play bridge every afternoon now. Ninahas gone back to England--having decided to take Jim!
It came about in this way--She flew in to tell me the last eveningbefore she left for Havre. She was breathless running up the stairs, assomething had gone wrong with the lift.
"Jim and I are engaged!"
"A thousand congratulations."
"Rochester had a dinner for me on Wednesday night. All the jolliestpeople in Paris--some of those dear French who have been so nice to usall along, and some of the War Council and the Ryvens, and so on--and,do you know, Nicholas--I _heard_ Rochester telling Madame de Clerte thesame story about his _bon mot_ when a shell broke at Avicourt--as I hadalready heard him tell Admiral Short, and Daisy Ryven!--that decidedme--. There was an element of self-glorification in that modeststory--and a man who would tell it _three times_, is not for me! In tenyears I should grow into being the listener victim--I could not face it!So I said good-bye to him in the corridor, before up to my room--and Itelephoned to Jim, who was in his room on the Cambon side, and he cameround in the morning!"
"Was Rochester upset?"
"Rather! but a man of his age--he is forty-two, who can tell aself-story three times is going to get cured soon, so I did not worry."
"And what did Jim say?"
"He was enchanted, he said he knew it would end like that--give a man offorty-two rope enough and he'll be certain to hang himself, he said,and, Oh! Nicholas--Jim is a darling, he is getting quite masterful--Iadore him!"
"Senses winning, Nina! Women only like physical masters."
She grew radiant. Never has she seemed so desirable. "I don't care a figNicholas! If it is senses, well, then, I know it is the best thing inthe World, and a woman of my age can't have everything. I adore Jim! Weare going to be married the first moment he can get leave again--and Ishall 'wangle' him into being a 'red tab'--he has fought enough."
"And if meanwhile he should get maimed like me--what then, Nina?"
She actually paled.
"Don't be so horrid Nicholas--Jim--Oh! I can't bear it!" and being astrict Protestant, she crossed herself--to avert bad luck!
"We won't think of anything but joy and happiness, Nina, but it isquite plain to me you had better have a fortnight at the sea!"
She had forgotten the allusion, and turned puzzled brown eyes upon me.
"You know--to balance yourself when you feel you are falling in love"--Ireminded her.
"Oh! It is all stuff and nonsense! I know now I adore Jim--good-byeNicholas"--and she hugged me--as a sister--a mother--and a familyfriend--and was off down the stairs again.
Burton had brought me in a mild gin and seltzer, and it was on the tray,near, so I drank it, and said to myself, "Here is to the Senses--jollygood things"--and then I telephoned to Suzette to come and dine.
* * * * *
There is a mole on the left cheek of Suzette, high up near her eye,there are three black hairs in it--I had never seen them until thismorning--_c'est fini_--_je ne puis plus_!
* * * * *
Of course we have all got moles with three black hairs in them--and theawful moment is when suddenly they are seen--That is the tragedy oflife--disillusion.
I cannot help being horribly introspective, Maurice would agree towhatever I said, so there is no use in talking to him--I rush to thisjournal, it cannot look at me with fond watery eyes of reproach anddisapproval--as Burton would if I let myself go to him.
_May 16th_--The times have been too anxious to write, it is over twomonths since I opened this book. But it cannot be, it cannot be that weshall be beaten--Oh! God--why am I not a man again to fight! The raidsare continuous--All the fluffies and nearly everyone left Paris in theticklish March and April times, but now their fears are lulled a littleand many have returned, and they rush to cinemas and theatres, to killtime, and jump into the rare taxis to go and see the places where theraid bombs burst, or Bertha shells, and watch the houses burning and thecrushed bodies of the victims being dragged out. They sicken me, thisrotten crew--But this is not all France--great, dear, brave France--Itis only one section of useless society. To-day the Duchesse deCourville-Hautevine came to call upon me--mounted all the stairs withouteven a wheeze--(the lift gave out again this morning!)--What apersonality!--How I respect her! She has worked magnificently since thewar began, her hospital is a wonder, her only son was killed fightinggloriously at Verdun.
"You look as melancholy as a sick cat," she told me.
She likes to speak her English--"Of what good _Jeune homme_! We are notdone yet--I have cut some of my relatives who ran away fromParis--Imbeciles! Bertha is our diversion now, and the raids atnight--jolly loud things!"--and she chuckled, detaching her scissorswhich had got caught in the purple woolen jersey she wore over her RedCross uniform. She is quite indifferent to coquetry, this grande dame ofthe _ancien regime_!
"My _blesses_ rejoice in them--_Que voulez vous?_--War is war--and thereis no use in looking blue--Cheer up, young man!"
Then we talked of other things. She is witty and downright, and herevery thought and action is kindly. I love la Duchesse--My mother washer dearest friend.
When she had stayed twenty minutes--she came over close to my chair.
"I knew you would be bitter at not being in the fight, my son," shesaid, patting me with her once beautiful hand, now red and hardened withwork, "So I snatched the moments to come to see you. On your one legyou'll defend if the moment should come,--but it won't! And you--youwounded ones, spared--can keep the courage up. _Tiens!_ you can at leastpray, you have the time--I have not--_Mais le Bon Dieu_ understands--."
And with that she left me, stopping to arrange her tightly curled fringe(she sticks to all old styles) at the lac mirror by the door. I feltbetter after she had gone--yes, it is that--God--why can't I fight!