| |
“Third storey—to the left,
Madame," said the cashier, handing me a pink ticket. "One
moment—I will ring for the elevator." Her black satin
skirt swished across the scarlet and
gold hail, and she stood among the artificial palms, her white neck
and powdered face topped
with masses of gleaming orange hair—like an over-ripe fungus
bursting from a thick, black
stem. She rang and rang. "A thousand pardons, Madame. It is
disgraceful. A new attendant.
He leaves this week.." With her fingers on the bell she peered
into the cage as though she
expected to see him, lying on the floor, like a dead bird. "It
is disgraceful!" There appeared
from nowhere a tiny figure disguised in a peaked cap and dirty white
cotton gloves. "Here
you are ! " she scolded. "Where have you been ? What have
you been doing?" For answer the
figure hid its face behind one of the white cotton gloves and sneezed
twice. "Ugh !
Disgusting! Take Madame to the third storey!"
The midget stepped aside, bowed, entered after me and clashed the
gates to. We ascended,
very slowly, to an accompaniment of sneezes and prolonged, half
whistling sniffs. I asked the
top of the patent leather cap : "Have you a cold?" "It
is the air, Madame," replied the
creature, speaking through its nose with a restrained air of great
relish, "one is never dry here.
Third floor—if you please," sneezing over my ten-centime
tip.
I walked along a tiled corridor decorated with advertisements for
lingerie and bust
improvers—was allotted a tiny cabin and a blue print chemise
and told to undress and find
the Warm Room as soon as possible. Through the matchboard walls
and from the corridor
sounded cries and laughter and snatches of conversation. "Are
you ready?" "Are you coming
out now?" " ait till you see me!" "Berthe—Berthe!"
"One moment! One moment!
Immediately!" I undressed quickly and carelessly, feeling like
one of a troupe of little
schoolgirls let loose in a swimming bath.
The Warm Room was not large. It had terra cotta painted walls with
a fringe of peacocks,
and a glass roof, through which one could see the sky, pale and
unreal as a photographer's
background screen. Some round tables strewn with shabby fashion
journals, a marble basin
in the centre of the room, filled with yellow lilies, and on the
long, towel enveloped chairs, a
number of ladies, apparently languid as the flowers. . . . I lay
back with a cloth over my head,
and the air, smelling of jungles and circuses and damp washing made
me begin to dream. . .
Yes, it might have been very fascinating to have married an explorer
. . . and lived in a
jungle, as long as he didn't shoot anything or take anything captive.
I detest performing
beasts. Oh . . . those circuses at home . . . the tent in the paddock
and the children swarming
over the fence to stare at the waggons and at the clown making up
with his glass stuck on the
waggon wheel—and the steam organ playing the Honeysuckle and
the Bee much too fast . . .
over and over. . . . I know what this air reminds me of—a
game of follow my leader among
the clothes hung out to dry. . . .
The door opened. Two tall blonde women in red and white check gowns
came in and took
the chairs opposite mine. One of them carried a box of mandarins
wrapped in silver paper
and the other a manicure set. They were very stout, with gay, bold
faces, and quantities of
exquisite whipped fair hair.
Before sitting down they glanced round the room, looked the other
women up and down,
turned to each other, grimaced, whispered something, and one of
them said, offering the box,
"Have a mandarin?" At that they started laughing—they
lay back and shook, and each time
they caught sight of each other broke out afresh. "Ah, that
was too good," cried one, wiping
her eyes very carefully, just at the corners. "You and I, coming
in here, quite serious, you
know, very correct—and looking round the room— and—and
as a result of our careful
inspection—I offer you a mandarin. No, it's too funny. I must
remember that. It's good
enough for a music hall. Have a mandarin?" "But I cannot
imagine," said the other, "why
women look so hideous in Turkish baths— like beef steaks in
chemises. Is it the women—or
is it the air? Look at that one, for instance—the skinny one,
reading a book and sweating at
the moustache—and those two over in the corner, discussing
whether or not they ought to tell
their non-existent babies how babies come—and . . . Heavens!
Look at this one coming in.
Take the box, dear. Have all the mandarins."
The newcomer was a short stout little woman with flat, white feet
and a black mackintosh
cap over her hair. She walked up and down the room, swinging her
arms, in affected
unconcern, glanced contemptuously at the laughing women and rang
the bell for the
attendant. It was answered immediately by "Berthe," half
naked and sprinkled with soapsuds.
"Well, what is it, Madame. I've no time . . ." "Please
bring me a hand towel," said the
Mackintosh Cap, in German. "Pardon ? I do not understand. Do
you speak French ? " "Non,"
said the mackintosh cap. "Ber—the!" shrieked one
of the blonde women, "have a mandarin.
Oh, mon Dieu, I shall die of laughing." The Mackintosh Cap
went through a pantomime of
finding herself wet and rubbing herself dry. "Verstehen Sie."
"Mais non, Madame," said
Berthe, watching with round eyes that snapped with laughter, and
she left the Mackintosh
Cap, winked at the blonde women, came over, felt them as though
they had been a pair of
prize poultry, said "You are doing very well," and disappeared
again. The Mackintosh Cap
sat down on the edge of a chair, snatched a fashion journal, smacked
over the crackling pages
and pretended to read and the blonde women leaned back eating the
mandarins and throwing
the peelings into the lily basin. A scent of fruit, fresh and penetrating,
hung on the air. I
looked round at the other women. Yes, they were hideous, lying back,
red and moist, with
dull eyes and lank hair, the only little energy they had vented
in shocked prudery at the
behaviour of the two blondes. Suddenly I discovered Mackintosh Cap
staring at me over the
top of her fashion journal, so intently that I took flight and went
into the hot room. But in
vain ! Mackintosh Cap followed after and planted herself in front
of me.
"I know," she said, confident and confiding, "that
you can speak German. I saw it in your face
just now. Wasn't that a scandal about the attendant refusing me
a towel ? I shall speak to the
management about that and I shall get my husband to write them a
letter this evening. Things
always come better from a man, don't they ? No," she said,
rubbing her yellowish arms, "I've
never been in such a scandalous place—and four francs fifty
to pay ! Naturally, I shall not
give a tip. You wouldn't, would you ? Not after that scandal about
a hand towel. . . . I've a
great mind to complain about those women as well. Those two that
keep on laughing and
eating. Do you know who they are?" She shook her head. "They're
not respectable
women—you can tell at a glance. At least I can, any married
woman can. They're nothing but
a couple of street women. I've never been so insulted in my life.
Laughing at me, mind you !
The great big fat pigs like that ! And I haven't sweated at all
properly, just because of them. I
got so angry that the sweat turned in instead of out; it does in
excitement, you know,
sometimes, and now instead of losing my cold, I wouldn't be surprised
if I brought on a
fever."
I walked round the hot room in misery pursued by the Mackintosh
Cap until the two blonde
women came in, and seeing her, burst into another fit of laughter.
To my rage and disgust
Mackintosh Cap sidled up to me, smiled meaningly, and drew down
her mouth. "I don't
care," she said, in her hideous German voice. "I shouldn't
lower myself by paying any
attention to a couple of street women. If my husband knew he'd never
get over it. Dreadfully
particular he is. We've been married six years. We come from Salzburg.
It's a nice town. Four
children I have living, and it was really to get over the shock
of the fifth that we came here.
The fifth," she whispered, padding after me, " was born,
a fine healthy child, and it never
breathed ! Well, after nine months, a woman can't help being disappointed,
can she?”
I moved towards the vapour room. "Are you going in there,"
she said. "I wouldn't if I were
you. Those two have gone in. They may think you want to strike up
an acquaintance with
them. You never know, women like that." At that moment they
came out, wrapping
themselves in the rough gowns, and passing Mackintosh Cap like disdainful
queens. "Are you
going to take your chemise off in the vapour room?" asked she.
"Don't mind me, you know.
Woman is woman, and besides, if you'd rather, I won't look at you.
I know—I used to be like
that. I wouldn't mind betting," she went on savagely, "those
filthy women had a good look at
each other. Pooh ! women like that. You can't shock them. And don't
they look dreadful. Bold
and all that false hair. That manicure box one of them had was fitted
up with gold. Well, I
don't suppose it was real, but I think it was disgusting to bring
it. One might at least cut one's
nails in private, don't you think ? I cannot see," she said,
"what men see in such women. No, a
husband and children and a home to look after, that's what a woman
needs. That's what my
husband says. Fancy one of these hussies peeling potatoes or choosing
the meat! Are you
going already?"
I flew to find Berthe and all the time I was soaped and smacked
and sprayed and thrown in a
cold water tank I could not get out of my mind the ugly, wretched
figure of the little German
with a good husband and four children railing against the two fresh
beauties who had never
peeled potatoes nor chosen the right meat. In the anteroom I saw
them once again. They were
dressed in blue. One was pinning on a bunch of violets, the other
buttoning a pair of ivory
suede gloves. In their charming feathered hats and furs they stood
talking. "Yes, there they
are," said a voice at my elbow. And Mackintosh Cap, transformed,
in a blue and white check
blouse and crochet collar, with the little waist and large hips
of the German woman and a
terrible bird nest, which Salzburg doubtless called Reise Hut on
her head. "How do you
suppose they can afford clothes like that ? The horrible, low creatures.
No, they're enough to
make a young girl think twice." And as the two walked out of
the anteroom, Mackintosh Cap
stared after them, her sallow face all mouth and eyes, like the
face of a hungry child before a
forbidden table. |
