neck, arms, and shoulders revealed when one wore evening dress. But this was for later on, they told me, when I would be going to balls. It was like having a savings account in the bank, and he could not have guessed it in any case, since I was clad in a long-sleeved dress of brown-and-blue tartan plaid with a close-fitting white collar.
"You’ve got it all wrong," I said.
"No," he said. "But of course you yourself don’t know how ravishing you are."
I shook my head, and glancing over his shoulder, I could see a few girls of my group running up the other stairs. "I must go now," I said.
"Go," he said, but he did not move for a while and kept looking at me, with his long, full lips slightly parted, as though he still intended to speak. Then he straightened himself with an abrupt movement, took the hat and sabre from me, and stepped aside. I had forgotten that I had been holding them.
I saw him at the next rehearsal and talked to him, and at every rehearsal after. I never looked for him, and I never met him walking toward me, but he always caught up with me, coming from behind and then turning and barring my way. My feeling that he was not accustomed to drawing rooms became a conviction. He was too silent, too grave, and too straightforward. In drawing rooms, one had to converse unceasingly, speaking in bantering, joking fashion, and one had to laugh often, even when nothing witty was being said. One behaved obliquely, as though standing a few paces apart from oneself, observing oneself speak and the impression one made on others.
He told me at every one of our meetings that I was enchanting, but he did not seem much interested in my circumstances, and he did not ask about Emma, either. This annoyed me, because Emma was pretty remarkable, and on our third meeting I gave him the information on my own. I said, "I must go now. Emma will be waiting for me downstairs in the foyer, and she’ll be huffy if I let her go hanging about. It’s not really her job—she’s not my governess, she’s our parlor maid, but you’d never think so if you saw her on her day off, in a tailor-made and a black fox fur. I haven’t got a governess anymore. I haven’t had one for the last six years, though most of the girls in my class still have one. We can’t afford it now. My mother hasn’t got a lady’s maid anymore, either. We’ve only got a cook and a scullery maid and an in-between maid and Emma, and to make up for the lady’s maid the hairdresser comes every day at noon, and the seamstress every fortnight for a few days, but it isn’t the same thing, of course. Before this, we had much more money, and the last governess I had was English, and she’d been with the Prince Windischgraetz before she came to us—the one who was the nephew of the Emperor Franz Josef. And do you know what was the Prince Windischgraetz’s favorite dish?" I paused, and said triumphantly, "boiled beef with bread dumplings and tomato sauce. Shattering, isn’t it?" I watched him closely, waiting for his astonishment.
He did not show it. He said, "It’s you who are shattering. Shatteringly enchanting." He stepped aside, and I walked away without saying good-bye.
THE REHEARSALS for the crowd scenes went on for three weeks, with one of the young assistant directors standing in for whatever single role was required. I watched him celebrating a Mass, and I was much impressed with his acting. While he uttered the litany of the
mater dolorosa,
he seemed to be struggling, wheedling, and bargaining with the Holy Virgin. My mother, too, was full of admiration. "What a superb talent!" she said that night while we were at dinner. "And what a pity he isn’t an actor. Nobody could possibly do any better. When the famous Reimers arrives, from the Burgtheater, from Vienna, to take over, he’ll be a letdown, you’ll see." The famous Emerich Reimers, a cadaverous and magnetic figure who had won an immense following for his performances in the plays of Goethe,
"You’ve got it all wrong," I said.
"No," he said. "But of course you yourself don’t know how ravishing you are."
I shook my head, and glancing over his shoulder, I could see a few girls of my group running up the other stairs. "I must go now," I said.
"Go," he said, but he did not move for a while and kept looking at me, with his long, full lips slightly parted, as though he still intended to speak. Then he straightened himself with an abrupt movement, took the hat and sabre from me, and stepped aside. I had forgotten that I had been holding them.
I saw him at the next rehearsal and talked to him, and at every rehearsal after. I never looked for him, and I never met him walking toward me, but he always caught up with me, coming from behind and then turning and barring my way. My feeling that he was not accustomed to drawing rooms became a conviction. He was too silent, too grave, and too straightforward. In drawing rooms, one had to converse unceasingly, speaking in bantering, joking fashion, and one had to laugh often, even when nothing witty was being said. One behaved obliquely, as though standing a few paces apart from oneself, observing oneself speak and the impression one made on others.
He told me at every one of our meetings that I was enchanting, but he did not seem much interested in my circumstances, and he did not ask about Emma, either. This annoyed me, because Emma was pretty remarkable, and on our third meeting I gave him the information on my own. I said, "I must go now. Emma will be waiting for me downstairs in the foyer, and she’ll be huffy if I let her go hanging about. It’s not really her job—she’s not my governess, she’s our parlor maid, but you’d never think so if you saw her on her day off, in a tailor-made and a black fox fur. I haven’t got a governess anymore. I haven’t had one for the last six years, though most of the girls in my class still have one. We can’t afford it now. My mother hasn’t got a lady’s maid anymore, either. We’ve only got a cook and a scullery maid and an in-between maid and Emma, and to make up for the lady’s maid the hairdresser comes every day at noon, and the seamstress every fortnight for a few days, but it isn’t the same thing, of course. Before this, we had much more money, and the last governess I had was English, and she’d been with the Prince Windischgraetz before she came to us—the one who was the nephew of the Emperor Franz Josef. And do you know what was the Prince Windischgraetz’s favorite dish?" I paused, and said triumphantly, "boiled beef with bread dumplings and tomato sauce. Shattering, isn’t it?" I watched him closely, waiting for his astonishment.
He did not show it. He said, "It’s you who are shattering. Shatteringly enchanting." He stepped aside, and I walked away without saying good-bye.
THE REHEARSALS for the crowd scenes went on for three weeks, with one of the young assistant directors standing in for whatever single role was required. I watched him celebrating a Mass, and I was much impressed with his acting. While he uttered the litany of the
mater dolorosa,
he seemed to be struggling, wheedling, and bargaining with the Holy Virgin. My mother, too, was full of admiration. "What a superb talent!" she said that night while we were at dinner. "And what a pity he isn’t an actor. Nobody could possibly do any better. When the famous Reimers arrives, from the Burgtheater, from Vienna, to take over, he’ll be a letdown, you’ll see." The famous Emerich Reimers, a cadaverous and magnetic figure who had won an immense following for his performances in the plays of Goethe,
Similar Books
