Zuleika Dobson (Romance Classic). Max Beerbohm
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“They were white when you came to me,” he sighed. “They were white because you loved me. From them it was that I knew you loved me even as I loved you. But their old colours have come back to them. That is how I know that your love for me is dead.”
Zuleika stood gazing pensively, twitching the two pearls between her fingers. Tears gathered in her eyes. She met the reflection of her lover’s eyes, and her tears brimmed over. She buried her face in her hands, and sobbed like a child.
Like a child’s, her sobbing ceased quite suddenly. She groped for her handkerchief, angrily dried her eyes, and straightened and smoothed herself.
“Now I’m going,” she said.
“You came here of your own accord, because you loved me,” said the Duke. “And you shall not go till you have told me why you have left off loving me.”
“How did you know I loved you?” she asked after a pause. “How did you know I hadn’t simply put on another pair of ear-rings?”
The Duke, with a melancholy laugh, drew the two studs from his waistcoat-pocket. “These are the studs I wore last night,” he said.
Zuleika gazed at them. “I see,” she said; then, looking up, “When did they become like that?”
“It was when you left the dining-room that I saw the change in them.”
“How strange! It was when I went into the drawing-room that I noticed mine. I was looking in the glass, and”—She started. “Then you were in love with me last night?”
“I began to be in love with you from the moment I saw you.”
“Then how could you have behaved as you did?”
“Because I was a pedant. I tried to ignore you, as pedants always do try to ignore any fact they cannot fit into their pet system. The basis of my pet system was celibacy. I don’t mean the mere state of being a bachelor. I mean celibacy of the soul—egoism, in fact. You have converted me from that. I am now a confirmed tuist.”
“How dared you insult me?” she cried, with a stamp of her foot. “How dared you make a fool of me before those people? Oh, it is too infamous!”
“I have already asked you to forgive me for that. You said there was nothing to forgive.”
“I didn’t dream that you were in love with me.”
“What difference can that make?”
“All the difference! All the difference in life!”
“Sit down! You bewilder me,” said the Duke. “Explain yourself!” he commanded.
“Isn’t that rather much for a man to ask of a woman?”
“I don’t know. I have no experience of women. In the abstract, it seems to me that every man has a right to some explanation from the woman who has ruined his life.”
“You are frightfully sorry for yourself,” said Zuleika, with a bitter laugh. “Of course it doesn’t occur to you that I am at all to be pitied. No! you are blind with selfishness. You love me—I don’t love you: that is all you can realise. Probably you think you are the first man who has ever fallen on such a plight.”
Said the Duke, bowing over a deprecatory hand, “If there were to pass my window one tithe of them whose hearts have been lost to Miss Dobson, I should win no solace from that interminable parade.”
Zuleika blushed. “Yet,” she said more gently, “be sure they would all be not a little envious of YOU! Not one of them ever touched the surface of my heart. You stirred my heart to its very depths. Yes, you made me love you madly. The pearls told you no lie. You were my idol—the one thing in the wide world to me. You were so different from any man I had ever seen except in dreams. You did not make a fool of yourself. I admired you. I respected you. I was all afire with adoration of you. And now,” she passed her hand across her eyes, “now it is all over. The idol has come sliding down its pedestal to fawn and grovel with all the other infatuates in the dust about my feet.”
The Duke looked thoughtfully at her. “I thought,” he said, “that you revelled in your power over men’s hearts. I had always heard that you lived for admiration.”
“Oh,” said Zuleika, “of course I like being admired. Oh yes, I like all that very much indeed. In a way, I suppose, I’m even pleased that YOU admire me. But oh, what a little miserable pleasure that is in comparison with the rapture I have forfeited! I had never known the rapture of being in love. I had longed for it, but I had never guessed how wonderfully wonderful it was. It came to me. I shuddered and wavered like a fountain in the wind. I was more helpless and flew lightlier than a shred of thistledown among the stars. All night long, I could not sleep for love of you; nor had I any desire of sleep, save that it might take me to you in a dream. I remember nothing that happened to me this morning before I found myself at your door.”
“Why did you ring the bell? Why didn’t you walk away?”
“Why? I had come to see you, to be near you, to be WITH you.”
“To force yourself on me.”
“Yes.”
“You know the meaning of the term ‘effective occupation’? Having marched in, how could you have held your position, unless”—
“Oh, a man doesn’t necessarily drive a woman away because he isn’t in love with her.”
“Yet that was what you thought I had done to you last night.”
“Yes, but I didn’t suppose you would take the trouble to do it again. And if you had, I should have only loved you the more. I thought you would most likely be rather amused, rather touched, by my importunity. I thought you would take a listless advantage, make a plaything of me—the diversion of a few idle hours in summer, and then, when you had tired of me, would cast me aside, forget me, break my heart. I desired nothing better than that. That is what I must have been vaguely hoping for. But I had no definite scheme. I wanted to be with you and I came to you. It seems years ago, now! How my heart beat as I waited on the doorstep! ‘Is his Grace at home?’ ‘I don’t know. I’ll inquire. What name shall I say?’ I saw in the girl’s eyes that she, too, loved you. Have YOU seen that?”
“I have never looked at her,” said the Duke.
“No wonder, then, that she loves you,” sighed Zuleika. “She read my secret at a glance. Women who love the same man have a kind of bitter freemasonry. We resented each other. She envied me my beauty, my dress. I envied the little fool her privilege of being always near to you. Loving you, I could conceive no life sweeter than hers—to be always near you; to black your boots, carry up your coals, scrub your doorstep; always to be working for you, hard and humbly and without thanks. If you had refused to see me, I would have bribed that girl with all my jewels to cede me her position.”
The Duke made a step towards her. “You would do it still,” he said in a low voice.
Zuleika raised her eyebrows. “I would not offer her one garnet,” she said, “now.”