the quest of the golden girl-第28节

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；　as　though　I　were　Eve　tasting　the　apple　for　the　first　time；for　〃such　a　power　hath　white　simplicity。〃　　Sin　is　for　the　innocent；a　truth　which　sinners　will　be　the　first　to　regret。　　It　was　so；　I　said　to　myself；　Alfred　de　Musset　used　to　sit　and　sip　his　absinthe　before　a　fascinated　world。　　It　is　a　privilege　for　the　world　to　look　on　greatness　at　any　moment；　even　when　it　is　drinking。　So　I　sat；　and　privileged　the　world。

It　will　readily　be　surmised　from　this　exordium　thatincredible　as　it　may　seem　in　a　man　of　thirtythis　was　my　first　visit　to　Paris。　　You　may　remember　that　I　had　bought　Orlando's　tickets；　and　it　had　occurred　to　Sylvia　and　me　to　use　them。　　Sylvia　was　due　in　London　to　fulfil　a　dancing　engagement　within　a　fortnight　after　our　arrival；　so　after　a　tender　good…bye；　which　there　was　no　earthly　necessity　to　make　final；　I　had　remained　behind　for　the　purposes　of　study。　　Though；　logically；　my　pilgrimage　had　ended　with　the　unexpected　discovery　of　Sylvia　Joy；　yet　there　were　two　famous　feminine　types　of　which；　seeing　that　I　was　in　Paris；　I　thought　I　might　as　well　make　brief　studies；　before　I　returned　to　London　and　finally　resumed　the　bachelorhood　from　which　I　had　started。　　These　were　the　grisette　of　fiction　and　the　American　girl　of　fact。　　Pending　these　investigations；　I　meditated　on　the　great　city　in　the　midst　of　which　I　sat。

A　city！　　How　much　more　it　was　than　that！　Was　it　not　the　most　portentous　symbol　of　modern　history？　　Think　what　the　word　〃Paris〃　means　to　the　emancipated　intellect；　to　the　political　government；　to　the　humanised　morals；　of　the　world；　not　to　speak　of　the　romance　of　its　literature；　the　tradition　of　its　manners；　and　the　immortal　fame　of　its　women。　France　is　the　brain　of　the　world；　as　England　is　its　heart；　and　Russia　its　fist。　　Strange　is　the　power；　strange　are　the　freaks　and　revenges；　of　association；　particularly　perhaps　of　literary　association。　　Here　pompous　official　representatives　may　demur；　but　who　can　doubt　that　it　is　on　its　literature　that　a　country　must　rely　for　its　permanent　representation？　The　countries　that　are　forgotten；　or　are　of　no　importance　in　the　councils　of　the　world；　are　countries　without　literature。　　Greece　and　Rome　are　more　real　in　print　than　ever　they　were　in　marble。　　Though；　as　we　know；　prophets　are　not　without　honour　save　in　their　own　countries　and　among　their　own　kindred；　the　time　comes　when　their　countries　and　kindred　are　entirely　without　honour　save　by　reason　of　those　very　prophets　they　once　despised；　rejected；　stoned；　and　crucified。　Subtract　its　great　men　from　a　nation；　and　where　is　its　greatness？

Similarly；　everything；　however　trifling；　that　has　been　written　about；　so　long　as　it　has　been　written　about　sufficiently　well；　becomes　relatively　enduring　and　representative　of　the　country　in　which　it　is　found。　　To　an　American；　for　example；　the　significance　of　a　skylark　is　that　Shelley　sang　it　to　skies　where　even　it　could　never　have　mounted；　and　any　one　who　has　heard　the　nightingale　must；　if　he　be　open…minded；　confess　its　tremendous　debt　to　Keats：　a　tenth　part　genuine　song；　the　rest　moon；　stars；　silence；　and　John　Keats；such　is　the　nightingale。　　The　real　truth　about　a　country　will　never　be　known　till　every　representative　type　and　condition　in　it　have　found　their　inspired　literary　mouthpiece。　　Meanwhile　one　country　takes　its　opinion　of　another　from　the　apercus　of　a　few　brilliant　but　often　irresponsible　or　prejudiced　writers；and　really　it　is　rather　in　what　those　writers　leave　out　than　in　what　they　put　in　that　one　must　seek　the　more　reliable　data　of　national　character。　

A　quaint　example　of　association　occurs　to　me　from　the　experience　of　a　friend　of　mine；　〃rich　enough　to　lend　to　the　poor。〃　　Having　met　an　American　friend　newly　landed　at　Liverpool；　and　a　hurried　quarter　of　an　hour　being　all　that　was　available　for　lunch；　〃Come　let　us　have　a　pork…pie　and　a　bottle　of　Bass〃　he　had　suggested。

〃Pork…pies！〃　said　the　American；　with　a　delighted　sense　of　discovering　the　country；〃why；　you　read　about　them　in　Dickens！〃　Who　shall　say　but　that　this　instinctive　association　was　an　involuntary　severe；　but　not　inapplicable；　criticism？　　A　nightingale　suggests　Keats；　a　pork…pie；　Dickens。

Similarly　with　absinthe；　grisettes；　the　Latin　Quarter；　and　so　on。

Why；　you　read　about　them　in　Murger；　in　Musset；　in　Balzac；　and　in　Flaubert；　and　the　fact　of　your　having　read　about　them　is；　I　may　add；　their　chief　importance。

So　rambled　my　after…dinner　reflections　as　I　sat　that　evening　smoking　and　sipping；　sipping　and　smoking；　at　the　Cafe　de　la　Paix。

Presently　in　my　dream　I　became　aware　of　English　voices　near　me；　one　of　which　seemed　familiar；　and　which　I　couldn't　help　overhearing。　　The　voice　of　the　husband　said；you　can　never　mistake　the　voice　of　the　husband；

　　　'T　was　the　voice　of　the　husband；　　　　　I　heard　him　complain；


the　voice　of　the　husband　said：　　〃Dora；　I　forbid　you！　　I　will　NOT　allow　my　wife　to　be　seen　again　in　the　Latin　Quarter。　　I　permitted　you　to　go　once；　as　a　concession；　to　the　Cafe　d'Harcourt；　but　once　is　enough。　You　will　please　respect　my　wishes！〃

〃But；〃　pleaded　the　dear　little　woman；　whom　I　had　an　immediate　impulse；　Perseus…　like；　to　snatch　from　the　jaws　of　her　monster；　and　turning　to　the　other　lady　of　the　party　of　four；〃but　Mrs。　　has　never　been；　and　she　cannot　well　go　without　a　chaperone。　Surely　it　cannot　matter　for　once。　　It　isn't　as　if　I　were　there　constantly。〃

〃No！〃　said　the　husband；　with　the　absurd　pomposity　of　his　tribe。

〃I'm　very　sorry。　Mrs。　　will；　of　course；　act　as　she　pleases；　but　I　cannot　allow　you　to　do　it；　Dora。〃

At　last　the　little　wife　showed　some　spirit。

〃Don't　talk　to　me　like　that；　Will；〃　she　said。　　〃I　shall　go　if　I　please。　　Surely　I　am　my　own　property。〃

〃Not　at　all！〃　at　once　flashed　out　the　husband；　wounded　in　that　most　vital　part　of　him；　his　sense　of　property。　　〃There　you　mistake。　　You　are　my　property；　MY　chattel；　you　promised　obedience　to　me；　I　bought　you；　and　you　do　my　bidding！〃

〃Great　heavens！〃　I　ejaculated；　and；　springing　up；　found　myself　face　to　face　with　a　well…known　painter　whom　you　would　have　thought　the　most　Bohemian　fellow　in　London。　And　Bohemian　he　is；　but　Bohemians　are　seldom　Bohemians　for　any　one　save　themselves。　　They　are　terrible　sticklers　for　convention　and　even　etiquette　in　other　people。

We　recognised　each　other　with　a　laugh；　and　presently　were　at　it；　hammer　and　tongs。　I　may　say　that　we　were　all　fairly　intimate　friends；　and　thus　had　the　advantage　of　entire　liberty　of　speech。　　I　looked　daggers　at　the　husband；　he　looked　daggers　at　me；　and　occasionally　looking　at　his　wife；　gave　her　a　glance　which　was　like　the　opening　of　Bluebeard's　closet。　　You　could　see　the　poor　murdered　bodies　dangling　within　the　shadowy　cupboard　of　his　eye。　　Of　course　we　got　no　further。　　Additional　opposition　but　further　enraged　him。　　He　recapitulated　what　he　would　no　doubt　call　his　arguments；they　sounded　more　like　threats；and　as　he　spoke　I　saw　dragons　fighting　for　their　dams　in　the　primeval　ooze；　and　heard　savage　trumpetings　of　masculine　monsters　without　a　name。

I　told　him　so。

〃You　are；〃　I　said；〃and　you　will　forgive　my　directness　of　expression；you　are　the　Primeval　Male！　　You　are　the　direct　descendant　of　those　Romans　who　carried　off　the　Sabine　women。　　Nay！　you　have　a　much　longer　genealogy。　　You　come　of　those　hairy　anthropoid　males　who　hunted　their　mates　through　the　tangle　of　primeval　forests；　and　who　finally　obtained　their　consentshall　we　say？by　clubbing　them　on　the　head　with　a　stone　axe。　　You　talk　a　great　deal　of　nonsense　about　the　New　Woman；　but　you；　Sir；　are　THE　OLD　MALE；　and；〃　I　continued；　〃I　have　only　to　obtain　your　wife's　consent　to　take　her　under　my　protection　this　instant。〃

Curiously　enough；　〃The　Old　Male；〃　as　he　is　now　affectionately　called；　became　from　this　moment　quite　a　bosom　friend。　　Nothing　would　satisfy　us　but　that　we　should　all　lodge　at　the　same　pension　together；　and　there　many　a　day　we　fought　our　battles　over　again。　But　that　poor　little　wife　never；　to　my　knowledge；　went　to　the　Cafe　d'Harcourt　again。



CHAPTER　XIII


THE　INNOCENCE　OF　PARIS

This　meeting　with　William　and　Dora　was　fortunate　from　the　point　of　view　of　my　studies；　for　that　very　night；　as　I　dined　with　them　en　pension；　I　found　that　providence；　with　his　usual　foresight；　had　placed　me　next　to　a　very　charming　American　girl　of　the　type　that　I　was　particularly　wishful　to　study。　　She　seemed　equally　wishful　to　be　studied；　and　we　got　on　amazingly　from　the　first　moment　of　our　acquaintance。　　By　the　middle　of　dinner　we　were　pressing　each　other's　feet　under　the　table；　and　when　coffee　and　cigarettes　had　come；　we　were　affianced　lovers。　　〃Why　should　I　blush　to　own　I　love？〃　was　evidently　my　quaint　little　companion's　motto；　and　indeed　she　didn't　blush　to　own　it　to　the　whole　table；　and　publicly　to　announce　that　I　was　the　dearest　boy；　and　absolutely　the　most　lovable　man　she　had　　met。　　There　was　nothing　she　wouldn't　do　for　me。　　Would　she　brave　the　terrors　of　the　Latin　Quarter　with　me；　I　asked；　and　introduce　me　to　the　terrible　Cafe　d'Harcourt；　about　which　William　and　Dora　had　suffered　such　searchings　of　heart？　　〃Why；　certainly；　there　was　nothing　in　that；〃　she　said。　　So　we　went。

Nothing　is　more　absurd　and　unjust　than　those　crude　labels　of　national　character　which　label　one　country　virtuous　and　another　vicious；　one　mu