Contents (91)
- THE PRETTY LADY
- * * *
- ARNOLD BENNETT
- *
- Contents
- *
- The Pretty Lady
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- Chapter 1 - The Promenade
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- Chapter 2 - The Power
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- Chapter 3 - The Flat
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- Chapter 4 - Confidence
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- Chapter 5 - Ostend
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- Chapter 6 - The Albany
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- Chapter 7 - For the Empire
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- Chapter 8 - Boots
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- Chapter 9 - The Club
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- Chapter 10 - The Mission
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- Chapter 11 - The Telegram
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- Chapter 12 - Rendezvous
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- Chapter 13 - In Committee
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- Chapter 14 - Queen
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- Chapter 15 - Evening Out
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- Chapter 16 - The Virgin
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- Chapter 17 - Sunday Afternoon
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- Chapter 18 - The Mystic
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- Chapter 19 - The Visit
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- Chapter 20 - Mascot
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- Chapter 21 - The Leave-Train
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- Chapter 22 - Getting on with the War
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- Chapter 23 - The Call
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- Chapter 24 - The Soldier
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- Chapter 25 - The Ring
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- Chapter 26 - The Return
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- Chapter 27 - The Clyde
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- Chapter 28 - Salome
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- Chapter 29 - The Streets
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- Chapter 30 - The Child's Arm
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- Chapter 31 - "Romance"
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- Chapter 32 - Mrs. Braiding
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- Chapter 33 - The Roof
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- Chapter 34 - In the Boudoir
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- Chapter 35 - Queen Dead
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- Chapter 36 - Collapse
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- Chapter 37 - The Invisible Powers
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- Chapter 38 - The Victory
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- Chapter 39 - Idyll
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- Chapter 40 - The Window
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- Chapter 41 - The Envoy
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- * * *
A strange, muffled noise came to them across the darkness of the sitting-room, and G.J. raised his head slightly to listen.
"Repose! Repose thyself in the arms of thy little mother," she breathed softly. "It is nothing. It is but the wind blowing the blind against the curtains."
And later, when she had distilled the magic of the hour and was tranquillised, she said:
"And where is it, this flat?"
Chapter 39 - Idyll
*
Christine said to Marie, otherwise La Mère Gaston, the new servant in the new flat, who was holding in her hand a telegram addressed to "Hoape, Albany":
"Give it to me. I will put it in front of the clock on the mantelpiece."
And she lodged it among the gilt cupids that supported the clock on the fringed mantelpiece in the drawing-room. She did so with a little gesture of childlike glee expressing her satisfaction in the flat as a whole.
The flat was dark; she did not object, loving artificial light. The rooms were all very small; she loved cosiness. There was a garage close by, which might have disturbed her nights; but it did not. The bathroom was open to the bedroom; no arrangement could be better. G.J. in enumerating the disadvantages of the flat had said also that it was too much and too heavily furnished. Not at all. She adored the cumbrous and rich furniture; she did not want in her flat the empty spaces of a ball-room; she wanted to feel that she was within an interior—inside something. She gloried in the flat. She preferred it even to her memory of G.J.'s flat in the Albany. Its golden ornateness flattered her. The glittering cornices, and the big carved frames of the pictures of impossible flowers and of ladies and gentlemen in historic coiffures and costumes, appeared marvellous to her. She had never seen, and certainly had never hoped to inhabit, anything like it. But then Gilbert was always better than his word.
He had been quite frank, telling her that he knew of the existence of the flat simply because it had been occupied for a brief time by the Mrs. Carlos Smith of whom she had heard and read, and who had had to leave it on account of health. (She did not remind him that once at the beginning of the war when she had noticed the name and portrait of Mrs. Carlos Smith in the paper, he, sitting by her side, had concealed from her that he knew Mrs. Carlos Smith. Judiciously, she had never made the slightest reference to that episode.) Though she detested the unknown Mrs. Carlos Smith, she admired and envied her for a great illustrious personage, and was secretly very proud of succeeding Mrs. Carlos Smith in the tenancy. And when Gilbert told her that he had had his eye on the flat for her before Mrs. Carlos Smith took it, and had hesitated on account of its drawbacks, she was even more proud. And reassured also. For this detail was a proof that Gilbert had really had the intention to put her "among her own furniture" long before the night of the supreme appeal to him.... Only he was always so cautious.