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of adjectives； and he halted。 I have put into my own words what I think
he wanted to say。
〃Looking back on the last five years； do you think it was worth it？〃 I
asked。
He looked at me； and I saw that he did not know what I meant。 I
explained。
〃You gave up a comfortable home and a life as happy as the average。
You were fairly prosperous。 You seem to have had a rotten time in Paris。
If you had your time over again would you do what you did？〃
〃Rather。〃
〃Do you know that you haven't asked anything about your wife and
children？ Do you never think of them？〃
〃No。〃
〃I wish you weren't so damned monosyllabic。 Have you never had a
moment's regret for all the unhappiness you caused them？〃
His lips broke into a smile； and he shook his head。
〃I should have thought sometimes you couldn't help thinking of the
past。 I don't mean the past of seven or eight years ago； but further back
still； when you first met your wife； and loved her； and married her。 Don't
you remember the joy with which you first took her in your arms？〃
〃I don't think of the past。 The only thing that matters is the
everlasting present。〃
I thought for a moment over this reply。 It was obscure； perhaps； but I
thought that I saw dimly his meaning。
〃Are you happy？〃 I asked。
〃Yes。〃
I was silent。 I looked at him reflectively。 He held my stare； and
presently a sardonic twinkle lit up his eyes。
〃I'm afraid you disapprove of me？〃
〃Nonsense；〃 I answered promptly； 〃I don't disapprove of the boa…
constrictor； on the contrary； I'm interested in his mental processes。〃
〃It's a purely professional interest you take in me？〃
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〃Purely。〃
〃It's only right that you shouldn't disapprove of me。 You have a
despicable character。〃
〃Perhaps that's why you feel at home with me；〃 I retorted。
He smiled dryly； but said nothing。 I wish I knew how to describe his
smile。 I do not know that it was attractive； but it lit up his face； changing
the expression； which was generally sombre； and gave it a look of not ill…
natured malice。 It was a slow smile； starting and sometimes ending in the
eyes； it was very sensual； neither cruel nor kindly； but suggested rather the
inhuman glee of the satyr。 It was his smile that made me ask him：
〃Haven't you been in love since you came to Paris？〃
〃I haven't got time for that sort of nonsense。 Life isn't long enough
for love and art。〃
〃Your appearance doesn't suggest the anchorite。〃
〃All that business fills me with disgust。〃
〃Human nature is a nuisance； isn't it？〃 I said。
〃Why are you sniggering at me？〃
〃Because I don't believe you。〃
〃Then you're a damned fool。〃
I paused； and I looked at him searchingly。
〃What's the good of trying to humbug me？〃 I said。
〃I don't know what you mean。〃
I smiled。
〃Let me tell you。 I imagine that for months the matter never comes
into your head； and you're able to persuade yourself that you've finished
with it for good and all。 You rejoice in your freedom； and you feel that at
last you can call your soul your own。 You seem to walk with your head
among the stars。 And then； all of a sudden you can't stand it any more； and
you notice that all the time your feet have been walking in the mud。 And
you want to roll yourself in it。 And you find some woman； coarse and
low and vulgar； some beastly creature in whom all the horror of sex is
blatant； and you fall upon her like a wild animal。 You drink till you're
blind with rage。〃
He stared at me without the slightest movement。 I held his eyes with
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mine。 I spoke very slowly。
〃I'll tell you what must seem strange； that when it's over you feel so
extraordinarily pure。 You feel like a disembodied spirit； immaterial； and
you seem to be able to touch beauty as though it were a palpable thing；
and you feel an intimate communion with the breeze； and with the trees
breaking into leaf； and with the iridescence of the river。 You feel like
God。 Can you explain that to me？〃
He kept his eyes fixed on mine till I had finished； and then he turned
away。 There was on his face a strange look； and I thought that so might a
man look when he had died under the torture。 He was silent。 I knew
that our conversation was ended。
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Chapter XXII
I settled down in Paris and began to write a play。 I led a very
regular life； working in the morning； and in the afternoon lounging about
the gardens of the Luxembourg or sauntering through the streets。 I spent
long hours in the Louvre； the most friendly of all galleries and the most
convenient for meditation； or idled on the quays； fingering second…hand
books that I never meant to buy。 I read a page here and there； and made
acquaintance with a great many authors whom I was content to know thus
desultorily。 In the evenings I went to see my friends。 I looked in often
on the Stroeves； and sometimes shared their modest fare。 Dirk Stroeve
flattered himself on his skill in cooking Italian dishes； and I confess that
his were very much better than his pictures。 It was a dinner
for a King when he brought in a huge dish of it； succulent with tomatoes；
and we ate it together with the good household bread and a bottle of red
wine。 I grew more intimate with Blanche Stroeve； and I think； because I
was English and she knew few English people； she was glad to see me。
She was pleasant and simple； but she remained always rather silent； and I
knew not why； gave me the impression that she was concealing something。
But I thought that was perhaps no more than a natural reserve accentuated
by the verbose frankness of her husband。 Dirk never concealed anything。
He discussed the most intimate matters with a complete lack of self…
consciousness。 Sometimes he embarrassed his wife； and the only time I
saw her put out of countenance was when he insisted on telling me that he
had taken a purge； and went into somewhat realistic details on the subject。
The perfect seriousness with which he narrated his misfortunes convulsed
me with laughter； and this added to Mrs。 Stroeve's irritation。
〃You seem to like making a fool of yourself；〃 she said。
His round eyes grew rounder still； and his brow puckered in dismay as
he saw that she was angry。
〃Sweetheart； have I vexed you？ I'll never take another。 It was only
because I was bilious。 I lead a sedentary life。 I don't take enough
exercise。 For three days I hadn't 。。。〃
〃For goodness sake； hold your tongue；〃 she interrupted； tears of
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annoyance in her eyes。
His face fell； and he pouted his lips like a scolded child。 He gave me a
look of appeal； so that I might put things right； but； unable to control
myself； I shook with helpless laughter。
We went one day to the picture…dealer in whose shop Stroeve thought
he could show me at least two or three of Strickland's pictures； but when
we arrived were told that Strickland himself had taken them away。 The
dealer did not know why。
〃But don't imagine to yourself that I make myself bad blood on that
account。 I took them to oblige Monsieur Stroeve； and I said I would sell
them if I could。 But really 〃 He shrugged his shoulders。 〃I'm
interested in the young men； but ； you yourself； Monsieur
Stroeve； you don't think there's any talent there。〃
〃I give you my word of honour； there's no one painting to…day in
whose talent I am more convinced。 Take my word for it； you are m