Nacha was waiting in a small inner reception room. A woman, whom she did not know, was also sitting there; "Madame" had left them for a moment to receive a caller. Suddenly a familiar figure appeared in the doorway9. "Amelia!" Nacha, with an exclamation10 of surprise, ran to meet her friend, and kissed her.
"You here! Why, didn't you get married?" She lowered her voice at the question. Amelia might feel ashamed in the presence of the strange woman....
"Yes, I got married.... But ... here I am just the same!"
She talked in a very loud voice, laughed boldly, and emphasized whatever she had to say with graceful11 movements of her snake-like body and her long thin arms. She was dressed in a somewhat fantastic and exuberant12 fashion, not without elegance13. A strong scent14 of violets pervaded15 the atmosphere about her.
"I should worry!" she continued; "Listen, little one. I'll admit that when I got married I had some idea of living respectably. That's the truth. You can say what you like. But you don't know what I married. He used to work when he was a bachelor—in a dry goods store. But after we were married he left his job, and wanted to live on me—thought I could go right on doing what I did before. Well, this is what I said to him: I said, "All right. I'll go back to the old life; but feed you with the money I earn? Not much! So here I am. How do I look? Not getting old very fast, eh?"
"You look splendid, Amelia, and more attractive than ever. What a figure you have!"
"It isn't so bad, is it? But it's wasted on the old fogies who come here. It makes you tired. Say, do you remember the wild times we had, Nacha, when we were just kids, and I called myself an anarchist16, and said everybody ought to have one good fling at life?"
"And aren't you an anarchist now?"
"Me? You're crazy, little one. No more of those fool ideas for me. Listen, I'm convinced now that we girls of the profession are one of the strongest pillars of society...."
She flung this out in ringing tones; and then, at Nacha's horrified17 expression, burst out laughing, throwing herself over to one side of her chair with the sensuous18 grace and calm indifference19 of a cat.
Madame's arrival interrupted this conversation. When she saw Amelia she greeted her with flattering warmth, and immediately left the room with her. The stranger looked at Nacha and seemed about to speak. But Nacha was lost in wonderment over all the things that may drive a woman to her ruin. Amelia was frankness itself, and if she said she had married with the hope of leading a decent life, it must be true; so then it was her husband, on whom she had built all her hopes of decency20, who had thrust her back into vice21!
She was interrupted in her thoughts by the entrance of a very young girl, at whom Nacha gazed, charmed and astonished by the grace, and innocent expression, of this delightful22 little person. She could not take her eyes away from her; the girl, answering her shy smile, asked, simply,
"What's your name? You look so good!"
"I'm not good, but I should like to be!"
The child—she seemed no older—sat down beside Nacha, and began to talk with her. Although she was actually seventeen, her slight, almost frail23, figure made her seem barely fourteen or fifteen. Nacha was horrified by this little creature's presence in that place. Didn't her parents know where she was? And how could Mme. Annette let her come there? And the men, those respectable gentlemen who were such good friends of Madame's, how could they fail to utter a word of protest or of pity? No, she could not understand the world; for it despised her and all women like her, insulted her and pushed her towards crime and every form of misery24; yet she was capable of feeling pity for the girl at her side; and she knew many women of her sort who would not have allowed a horror such as this child's presence there, to be committed. She wanted to ask this young thing to tell her how she came to be in such a place, but she hesitated. The other woman's presence embarrassed her.
"Tell me," Nacha whispered, taking the girl's hand. "Why is it—how does it happen that—?"
The child raised her clear innocent eyes to Nacha's, in wonder.
"Why do you come to this house?" Nacha asked finally, blushing for her curiosity.
The girl raised troubled eyes to Nacha; then she replied quite simply, without the slightest suggestion of reproach toward anyone in her voice:
"My aunt sends me."
"And how long have you been coming here?"
"Two months."
"And before that—you had a sweetheart? Who deceived you?"
"No, I never had a sweetheart. My aunt made me come—"
"I can't believe it! So this is what life has become for you! Why, you ought to be out playing with other children.
"Yes."
Nacha could scarcely breathe for indignation. Then little by little, she brought out the child's story.
About eight years before, the girl's aunt had visited her parents, who were Spanish and lived in great poverty in La Coru?a. This aunt was rich, and owned a store in Buenos Aires. Her little niece attracted her; and as the child's parents had ten other children, they gave her up to what seemed to them a prosperous future. Her aunt took her back with her, always treated her kindly25; but the store no longer prospered26, and finally, she was forced to close it. She told her little niece one day that they were so poor she would have to earn some money.
"We hadn't anything to eat," the child went on. "I didn't see what my aunt could do. And I didn't know what the place was she was sending me to. So I came, as she told me. But when I went home I cried, and said to my aunt I couldn't come to this house any more.... My aunt begged me to be brave, and told me that she was responsible for everything. But—it seemed so bad to me! I felt everything was all wrong. But my aunt says that when people do what they are forced to do, they are not really bad.... Can that be true? Tell me what you think?"
Nacha overwhelmed with horror, did not know what to reply.
"And is it wrong?"
Mme. Annette came in at this point and took the girl away with her. Nacha got up from her chair and rushed after them; but from the threshold of the room into which Madame had swept, she caught sight of a man and stopped short. Then she came back to the strange woman, towards whom, until this moment, she had felt a slight hostility27.
"What a shame that is!" she broke out. "I have never in my life heard anything like that child's story. Exploited by her own aunt!"
"Don't be so angry," said the woman gently, as Nacha, beside herself with indignation, sat down.
"It's no good complaining. I have seen so many awful things that nothing shocks me, absolutely nothing!"
Her words were correct but had a foreign accent. She was neither pretty nor well dressed; but she had marvellous blue eyes, and looked intelligent. Nacha, who until then had scarcely noticed her, now felt strongly attracted to her; and as they waited there they talked with increasing confidence to one another. Nacha learned that she was of a respected and well-known family of a town in northern France, and that she had come to South America under contract to give some concerts. But the theatres in which her manager required her to sing were of such a kind—the Royal, for instance—that she refused. She had, however, no resources, so finally she made terms with the company, and was taken to a "pension d'artistes," at which she was expected to live. She soon found out what sort of a "pensión" it was, and rebelled against the conditions of life there. After leaving the place abruptly28, she tried to earn a living by working in an art shop. The usual temptations followed. Then came a love affair with one of its patrons: it ended badly....
"When I think of my parents," she continued, "I am very unhappy. I would give my life to see them—but it costs so much to go to Europe!"
"Nacha, will you come, please. I want to introduce you to an old friend of the house—a good friend. Let me see—are you well dressed? Your stockings might be better. Next time do be careful about your foot-wear."
Nacha was about to address her, but Madame began again:
"Be a good girl, child. You're pretty enough—and you have pretty manners, too, I know you have, when you want to!"
Leaving Nacha under the august protection of a venerable "father of his country," Madame took up a position on the balcony of one of the rooms facing the street, and began peering with great interest through the branches of the trees in the park; for it was time for her little daughter to come home from the convent where she was being instructed in all the virtues31 and accomplishments32 befitting a young lady of the wealthy classes. And Madame dreamed a little of this tender off-spring who, in a few years, if all her schemes went well, would be happily married, and highly respected; and she would owe this happiness to her mother's skill in managing a business that had no equal in Buenos Aires;—on the champagne33 alone she made a hundred pesos a day! Yes, "Madame" flattered herself that she knew the value of institutions; with her talent for managing, her tact34, and her French ways, she had succeeded in accumulating a large fortune—thanks to the support and approval of Politics, Finance and Aristocracy!
A commotion35 behind her interrupted her reveries. She turned and saw the worthy36 senator, now sputtering37 with rage. His story was soon told. With a flounce "Madame" hurried out to find Nacha who had fled to the little reception room, empty now, where she was standing38 in front of a mirror, arranging the disorder39 of her hair.
"Nacha, what does this mean? Do you want to ruin the reputation of my house?"
"No, Madame. But I've had enough of it."
"You're a fool! You're old enough to have got rid of your silly notions."
Nacha's cheeks turned a flaming red and her eyes shone with anger as she screamed at Madame:
"Don't you dare say a word to me or I'll get the police! What do you mean by taking a child of seventeen into this house? You miserable40 old woman!"
"So you're going for the police are you? Well, it happens that the police take their orders from me! So don't waste your time telling them tales about this house. I never ruined any woman! You and your like ruin yourselves, because you want to, because you take to vice like ducks to water, because you are...."
But it was little use for "Madame" to wear herself out screaming and running after Nacha; for Nacha, with her hands over her ears, refused to hear, which enraged41 "Madame" all the more. The girl was running through the rooms, slamming doors, and shrieking42 out words certain to be offensive to "Madame's" professional dignity. In this fashion, Nacha in the lead, and "Madame" after her, they reached the stairway, down which Nacha passed light as a breeze. As she opened the sumptuous43 glass entrance door, and saw "Madame" at the top of the stairs, she stuck out her tongue at her qualifying the dignified44 lady's trade with certain terms which even her long experience had not prepared her to hear with equanimity45.
"You old criminal!"
The door slammed, and Nacha jumped into a cab and drove home. Scarcely had she reached her room when she took off her hat and threw herself down on her bed, weeping convulsively. Her whole body was shaking with a nervous chill. She tried to muffle47 the sounds of her weeping, but could not. A girl who occupied the room next to hers, came in, greatly alarmed. Should she send for the doctor?—
"Just leave me alone, I want to be alone...."
"Are you angry with me?" asked the girl gently. She was a plump little person with black eyes and dark, soft skin, and was called Julieta.
Nacha, suddenly yielding to the girl's gentleness, sat up and kissed her; but she could not check her sobs48 and asked again to be left alone.
"And what about the doctor?" asked Julieta. "You had better have him. You are not well."
"All right. Get him!..."
Nacha turned toward the wall, still weeping.
In the evening the doctor arrived. Nacha who had not eaten anything was still lying on her bed, and still in her street clothes. The doctor declared the attack to be entirely49 a matter of nerves and prescribed rest and quiet.
The succession of shocks she had just lived through; Mademoiselle's treachery; the loss of a cherished illusion; the suppression in her of any hope of leading a new life; worst of all, the effect of her decision to return to her former mode of living, had all been so many blows at her strength, physical and moral.
In her sufferings and vacillations, nothing had caused her so much torment50 as the thought of Monsalvat. Even worse than the certainty that her life was now definitely ruined, was the despair which took possession of her whenever she thought of this man.—She no longer doubted she loved him! His image, always present to her eyes, had assumed gigantic proportions in those moments when she was committing acts that were fatal to all her hopes. As she entered that house of evil it seemed to her that Monsalvat's spirit was waiting there on the stairs, trying to prevent her from passing. She had closed her eyes, and lowered her head, and she had walked straight through the shadowy figure that was trying to save her.... But, all the time she was there, he haunted her. The slightest noise made her think he was coming into the room. A voice in the corridor made her start for fear it was his voice. Once she had even thought she saw him pass by the open door....
Where was he now? she wondered. Why did he not look for her? Couldn't he guess how much she needed his protection? Without it she could not help but fall from depth to depth of degradation51. Why had not Monsalvat appeared in that house of vice as she so desperately52 hoped, to rescue her? Why didn't he come now to free her from all this suffering?
Then she remembered that Monsalvat had told her, on the one occasion when they had talked together, that she ought to suffer—only so could she deserve pardon and pity. Those were his words.... She brooded over them. Nothing else gave any meaning to her miserable existence. She would welcome suffering then, and resign herself to grief! A little quieted, she went to sleep.
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1
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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quorum
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| n.法定人数 | |
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embroideries
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| 刺绣( embroidery的名词复数 )； 刺绣品； 刺绣法 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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aroma
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| n.香气，芬芳，芳香 | |
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7
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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8
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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9
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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10
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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11
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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12
exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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13
elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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anarchist
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| n.无政府主义者 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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sensuous
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| adj.激发美感的；感官的，感觉上的 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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22
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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prospered
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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38
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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40
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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41
enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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42
shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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43
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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44
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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45
equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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46
viper
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| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
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47
muffle
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| v.围裹；抑制；发低沉的声音 | |
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48
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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49
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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50
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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51
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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52
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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