Man and Maid | Page 8

calls
the widow, the divorce and other rejoicers of men's war hearts) can take
me in her motor--No one else has a motor--There is no petrol for
ordinary people.
"It reminds one of Louis XV's supposed reply to his daughters"--I said
to Maurice yesterday. "When they asked him to make them a good road
to the Château of their dear Gouvernante, the Duchesse de la Bove--He
assured them he could not, his mistresses cost him too much! So they
paid for it themselves, hence the 'Chemin des Dames.'"
"What reminds you of what--?" Maurice asked, looking horribly
puzzled.
"The fluffies being able to get the petrol--."
"But I don't see, the connection?"
"It was involved--the mistresses got the money which should have
made the road in those days, and now--."
Maurice was annoyed with himself; he could not yet see, and no
wonder, for it was involved!--but I am angry that the widow and the
divorce both have motors and I none!
"Poor Odette--she hates taxis! Why should she not have a motor?--You
are grinchant, mon cher!--since she takes you out, too!"
"Believe me, Maurice, I am grateful, I shall repay all their
kindnesses--they have all indicated how I can best do so--but I like to
keep them waiting, it makes them more keen."
Maurice laughed again nervously.
"It is divine to be so rich, Nicholas"!

* * *
All sorts of people come to talk to me and have tea (I have a small
hoard of sugar sent from a friend in Spain). Amongst them an ancient
guardsman in some inspection berth here--He, like Burton, knows the
world.
He tests women by whether or no they take presents from him, he tells
me. They profess intense love which he returns, and then comes the
moment (he, like me, is disgustingly rich). He offers them a present,
some accept at once, those he no longer considers; others hesitate, and
say it is too much, they only want his affection--He presses them, they
yield--they too, are wiped off the list--and now he has no one to care
for, since he has not been able to find one who refuses his gifts. It
would be certainly my case also--were I to try.
"Women"--he said to me last night--"are the only pleasure in life--men
and hunting bring content and happiness, work brings satisfaction, but
women and their ways are the only pleasure."
"Even when you know it is all for some personal gain?"
"Even so, once you have realized that, it does not matter, you take the
joy from another point of view, you have to eliminate vanity out of the
affair, your personal vanity is hurt, my dear boy, when you feel it is
your possessions, not yourself, they crave, but if you analyse that, it
does not take away from the pleasure their beauty gives you--the
tangible things are there just as if they loved you--I am now altogether
indifferent as to their feelings for me, as long as their table manners are
good, and they make a semblance of adoring me. If one had to depend
upon their real disinterested love for their kindness to one, then it
would be a different matter, and very distressing, but since they can
always be caught by a bauble--you and I are fortunately placed,
Nicholas."
We laughed our vile laughs together.--It is true--I hate to hear my own
laugh. I agree with Chesterfield, who said that no gentleman should
make that noise!

* * *
As I said before, all sorts of people come to see me, but I seem to be
stripping them of externals all the time. What is the good in them?
What is the truth in them? Strip me--if I were not rich what would
anyone bother with me for? Is anyone worth while underneath?
One or other of the fluffies come almost daily to play bridge with me,
and any fellow who is on leave, and the neutrals who have no anxieties,
what a crew! It amuses me to "strip" them. The married one, Coralie,
has absolutely nothing to charm with if one removes the ambience of
success, the entourage of beautiful things, the manicurist and the
complexion specialist, the Reboux hats, and the Chanel clothes. She
would be a plain little creature, with not too fine ankles,--but that
self-confidence which material possessions bring, casts a spell over
people.--Coralie is attractive. Odette, the widow, is beautiful. She has
the brain of a turkey, but she, too, is exquisitely dressed and surrounded
with everything to enhance her loveliness, and the serenity of success
has given her magnetism. She announces platitudes as discoveries, she
sparkles, and is so ravishing that one finds her trash wit. She thinks she
is witty, and you begin to believe it!
Odette can be best stripped, people