He loved me, yes, I know, but I know also that he’s incapable of loving for very long.
I couldn’t have held him indefinitely even if nothing had happened.
I knew that always.
And when the time comes for me to go, what hope have I that anything will be left of the love he once bore me?”
“But how, if you think that, can you still do what you’re doing?”
“It’s stupid, isn’t it?
He’s cruel and selfish, unscrupulous and wicked.
I don’t care.
I don’t respect him, I don’t trust him, but I love him; I love him with my body, with my thoughts, with my feelings, with everything that’s me.”
She changed her tone to one of light raillery.
“And now that I’ve told you that, you must see that I’m a very disreputable woman who is quite unworthy of your interest or sympathy.”
Charley considered for a moment.
“Well, I don’t mind telling you that I’m rather out of my depth.
But for all the hell he’s enduring I’m not sure if I wouldn’t rather be in his shoes than yours.”
“Why?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, because I can’t imagine anything more heart-rending than to love with all your soul someone that you know is worthless.”
Lydia gave him a thoughtful, rather surprised look, but did not answer.
x
CHARLEY’S TRAIN left at midday.
Somewhat to his surprise Lydia told him that she would like to come and see him off.
They breakfasted late and packed their bags.
Before going downstairs to pay his bill Charley counted his money.
He had plenty left.
“Will you do me a favour?” he asked.
“What is it?”
“Will you let me give you something to keep in case of emergency?”
“I don’t want your money,” she smiled.
“If you like you can give me a thousand francs for Evgenia.
It’ll be a godsend to her.”
“All right.”
They drove first to the Rue du Chateau d’Eau, where she lived, and there she left her bag with the concierge.
Then they drove to the Gare du Nord.
Lydia walked along the platform with him and he bought a number of English papers.
He found his seat in the Pullman.
Lydia, coming in with him, looked about her.
“D’you know, this is the first time I’ve ever been inside a first-class carriage in my life,” she said.
It gave Charley quite a turn.
He had a sudden realization of a life completely devoid not only of the luxuries of the rich, but even of the comforts of the well-to-do.
It caused him a sharp pang of discomfort to think of the sordid existence that had always been, and always would be, hers.
“Oh well, in England I generally go third,” he said apologetically, “but my father says that on the Continent one ought to travel like a gentleman.”
“It makes a good impression on the natives.”
Charley laughed and flushed.
“You have a peculiar gift for making me feel a fool.”
They walked up and down the platform, trying as people do on such occasions to think of something to say, but able to think of nothing that seemed worth saying.
Charley wondered if it passed through her mind that in all probability they would never see one another again in all their lives.
It was odd to think that for five days they had been almost inseparable and in an hour it would be as though they had never met.
But the train was about to start.
He put out his hand to say good-bye to her.
She crossed her arms over her breast in a way she had which had always seemed to him strangely moving; she had had her arms so crossed when she wept in her sleep; and raised her face to his.
To his amazement he saw that she was crying.