Seed on the Wind

“Oh, it isn’t that. You’ve been careful not to make it difficult. It’s Miss Chavez.”

He pulled himself up with a jerk, sitting straight, pushing cigarette smoke out of his nose and mouth with the words:

“That little devil! Oh ho! I’ll strangle her with the mantilla the greatest bullfighter in Mexico gave her the day she broke his heart, the little liar. She came to see you, eh? What did she say?”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“How is it her then?”

I must be careful, thought Lora, or this won’t come out right at all.

“It’s nothing very definite,” she said, “only I’ve heard things. I hear a lot of talk you know. Apparently Miss Chavez thinks she has discovered that your interest in me is not purely esthetic. She talks too much, I don’t like it.”

“By god, I shall surely strangle her. Who does she talk to?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Everybody.” Lora waved her hand vaguely. “I could stand the talk I suppose, but it seems she’s threatening all sorts of things. Anyway, as you said once, who wants their name signed to a picture they didn’t paint?”

“Blah,” said Albert scornfully. “You don’t know Anita. She’s as harmless as a garter snake. Of course she always talks, but confound it all, when did she start on you? You are my vestal virgin, my Brünnhilde surrounded by a protecting flame, my Eloise inviolate through an unfortunate physiological accident transformed by a perversion into diseased poetry; and she’s got to let you alone or I’ll strangle her.”

“Oh,” said Lora, looking at him straight, “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with you.”

He stared at her and then laughed, bellowing, plumping back on the floor and up again. He didn’t stop laughing.

“Well, I didn’t,” she declared stoutly. “Be quiet, you’ll wake the baby.” She got up and went to the screen and disappeared behind it. Her voice could be heard, low and soothing. Soon she came out again. “You did wake him,” she said. “You’d better go if you’re going to roar like a bull.”

“I’ll be good,” Albert promised. “But my god that was funny. You’re as literal as an academician. The only thing wrong with me, Lora mia, is that there’s nothing wrong with me. In a world of sick men the healthy are perverse. But Anita. Don’t worry about Anita; I’ll fix her. Don’t for god’s sake cast me off; you, the sacred grove where I rest my feet. The true madonna, the hope of the world. I’m going to learn to paint, and do you and Roy, naked in the sun, and call it triumphantly Virgin and Bastard. I hope they’ll let me take it to prison with me, and you must come now and then and let me talk to you.”

“You’re an awful fool,” said Lora. “So is Miss Chavez maybe; all the more reason why you’ll have to find another sacred grove to rest your feet in. I don’t intend to be made uncomfortable for a sin I’ve not committed.”

“And one you’re not interested in.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right. Carefully you didn’t say it. You did also, however, mention a picture you hadn’t painted. And that I’ve been careful not to make it difficult. Are you doing this deliberately?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Ha, you’re not so dumb.” He sat, still on the floor, with his knees crossed and his arms folded, directly in front of her chair, looking up at her; and she felt a quickening in her heart, a faint pleasant alarm through her body and limbs, as she saw his eyes fastened on her with no admiration, no fondness even.

“You’re not so dumb,” he repeated. “But for the sake of clearness let’s put it this way. What would be your reaction if I were to announce that I intend to sleep here tonight, in that rather narrow bed, with you?”

“Announce? To Mrs. Pegg? To Miss Chavez? To the newspapers?”

“Don’t quibble. What about it? You don’t need to look triumphant, I know my voice is trembling. What about it?”

“I’m not triumphant.”

“What about it?”

“Well... it would have one advantage, it would save Miss Chavez from being a liar, wouldn’t it?”

“Many advantages. It would extinguish the flame that surrounds you.”

Lora smiled at him. She had an impulse to touch him too, but kept her hands in her lap. His arms were still folded.

“You’re pretty funny,” she said. “You propose — this, like — this — without ever having wanted to kiss me—”

“I haven’t wanted to kiss you.” His voice trembled in earnest now; he got to his knees, close to her, and put his hands on the arms of her chair; she no longer enjoyed his eyes, but was held by them. “For god’s sake, Lora mia, pay no attention to what I say. From this moment. Until peace comes again. But understand distinctly that I know it is you who did it, though god knows I don’t know why. Ah, I have never touched you before — there... there — good god to be drowned with you — I never expected this...”

IX