CHAPTER XXXIV
He had been in New York about ten days when he awoke one morning nearnoon. An immense languor possessed him. He had been with Julia the nightbefore and never had she been more charming, more abandoned.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} He orderedhis breakfast to be sent up, and then stretched out in bed and lit anexpensive Russian cigarette. He had that love of sensuous indolence,which, together with its usual complement, the capacity for brief butviolent action, marked him as a primitive man--one whom the regular laborsand restraints of civilization would never fit.
His telephone bell rang, and when he took down the receiver he heardJulia's voice. It was not unusual for her to call him about this time, butwhat she told him now caused a blank and hapless look to come over hisface. She was not in her room, but in another hotel.
"My husband got in this morning," she explained in a voice that was thinwith misery and confusion. "I got his message last night, but I didn'ttell you because I knew it would spoil our last time together, and I wasafraid you would do something foolish.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} Please say you're not angry. Youknow there was nothing for it. We couldn't have done any of those wildthings you talked about. I'll always love you, honestly I will. Won't youeven say goodby?{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~}"
He at last did say goodby and hung up the receiver and went across theroom and sat in an armchair. It suddenly struck him that he was verytired. He had not realized it before {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} how tired he was. There was none ofthe mad rebellion in him now that had filled him when first she had runaway from him. Although he had never acknowledged it to himself he hadbeen more than half prepared for this. He had told himself that he wasgoing to do something bold and decisive, but he had procrastinated; he hadnever really formed a plan.
Weariness was his leading emotion. He was spent, physically andemotionally. He wanted her almost as much as ever. While she was no longerthe remote and dazzling star she had been, the bond of flesh that had beencreated between them seemed a stronger, a more constant thing thanblinding unsatisfied desire. But a great despair possessed him. There wasso obviously nothing he could do. Just as his other disappointment hadgiven him his first stinging impression of the irony of life, thatcunningly builds a hope and then smashes it; so now he felt for the firsttime something of the helplessness of man in the current or his destiny,driven by deep-laid desires he seldom understands, and ruled by chances hecan never calculate. From love a man learns life in quick and painfulflashes.
Through the open window came the din of the New York street--purr and throbof innumerable engines, rumble and clatter of iron wheels, tapping ofthousands of restless feet, making a blended current of sound upon whichfloated and tossed the shrillness of police whistles and newsboys' voicesand auto horns. It had been the background of his life during memorabledays. Once it had stirred his pulses, seeming a wild accompaniment to thesong of his passion. Now it wearied him inexpressibly; it seemed to behammering in his ears; he wanted to get away from it. He would go homethat day.