House of All Nations by Christina Stead Page B

Voigrand, and the Ritz-Carlton, with them. I have got myself properly dressed at Molyneux and had my hair attended to. I have looked after myself. I am a virgin. I have passed my examinations. I can keep house. I can give a big dinner to businessmen.’ Then if you say, ‘I have a nice young fellow with a good position, willing to marry me,’ why, I’ll let you marry him. I don’t want to force you, I want you to marry for love, if you can. And if you’ve told me the truth, if all that is true, I’ll—I’ll, well I’ll let you marry anyone—a taxi driver even. I’ll buy him a fleet of taxis and put you in business, if he’s such a handsome fellow.’ He laughed roguishly, leaned over the arm of her chair. ‘Why, why—even a grocer. I’d buy him a stand and say, ‘Here, be happy … ’ You can marry the—head of the Communist Party, even.’
    Henrietta said, ‘All this is to stop me seeing Adam Constant. You don’t get me with that drivel.’
    Achitophelous turned to Jules. ‘Mr. Bertillon! Mr. Bertillon! What am I to do? Rhys wanted very much for his son to marry her. He was willing to give him a million francs himself right away.’ He shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. ‘Only one daughter and that one an outlaw, almost a criminal.’
    Jules straightened himself and said gently, in a judicial tone, ‘Mr. Achitophelous, I can, I think, settle everything to everyone’s satisfaction. No, I can’t forbid Adam Constant to see your daughter. He is a teller in my bank and I cannot tell him anything about his private affairs. I didn’t know he was a communist, but even if he is—’
    â€˜You can dismiss him,’ pleaded Mr. Achitophelous. ‘Don’t you see? She’s ignorant.’ He dismissed his daughter with a supercilious shrug. ‘If he hadn’t a job, she wouldn’t love him. If she had nowhere to go with him.’
    Henrietta cried in indignation, ‘I go nowhere with him.’
    â€˜No,’ said Jules. ‘You see, he’s a very good teller. And I don’t mind communists. I think they’re nuts, that’s all. But decent nuts. Because they’re not serious. I pay them good wages. And the women clients like him.’ An expression of anxious astonishment crossed Henrietta’s face. ‘That is something in a society dump like mine,’ smiled Jules. ‘The girls are the very dickens to manage, in money affairs, and a nice-mannered youth with genteel sex appeal like Adam Constant is an asset.’ Henrietta smiled faintly. Jules threw her a cool glance and went on coaxingly, to both of them, ‘I’ll arrange it. Leave it to me. You will both be happy.’
    Achitophelous looked pleased but still dubious. ‘If you do, Mr. Bertillon, I will—er—I—er, you will have my eternal gratitude.’
    â€˜You take things too seriously, Achitophelous,’ ended Jules. He got up. ‘If you’ll just wait there, a moment, I’ll go and get one of my directors, Michel Alphendéry. He’s a very fine fellow, knows more than a university professor and is very humane. He sees everybody’s point of view. He’s much better at human things than I am. And—’ he smiled broadly at Henrietta, ‘he’s a communist, too.’
    â€˜Yes!’ cried Henrietta with childish glee. She lay back in her chair. At the door, hidden from Henrietta, Jules turned and winked at Achitophelous. Achitophelous composed his features and took a turn up and down the room. Jules was away some time.
    â€˜Nothing,’ said a soft voice from the depths of the armchair, ‘nothing will prevent me going to the Salle de la Mutualité, with Adam Constant.’
    After a moment, Henrietta laughed, ‘My eyes are wide open.’
    She opened her splendid dark eyes wide and looked at him. He gave her a thunderous