I had to win.
True to the conventions of the fairy tale I was instantly changed. The long tedious journey through adolescence was terminated as abruptly as if my fairy godmother had waved a magic wand, and at that moment childhood lay forever behind me and only manhood was real.
“Robert! My dear, isn’t this thrilling! What a birthday treat …” She swept on, radiantly oblivious of my transformation, and disappeared into the ballroom. Presently I found I had to sit down. Then I found I could not sit down but had to stand up. I was beside myself. All the famous love poetry which I had previously dismissed as “soppy” and “wet” now streamed through my brain until even the rhythm of the iambic pentameters seemed impregnated with a mystical significance. Like the author of the Book of Revelation I was conscious of a new heaven and a new earth. I stumbled forward, broke into a run and hared after her into the ballroom.
“Ginette, Ginette—”
She heard me. I saw her turn her head idly and give me a languid wave with her fan. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten!” she called. “I’ve saved the first waltz after supper for you!” And she began to dance away from me in Sir William Appleby’s arms.
Some sort of interval passed which I can only presume I spent dancing with the girls I was supposed to dance with and behaving as I was supposed to behave. I must have shown some semblance of normality for no one inquired anxiously after my health. Did I eat any supper? Possibly. I have a dim memory of sipping a glass of champagne but giving up halfway through because I was afraid I might go mad with euphoria.
“Oh good, this is your waltz, isn’t it, Robert? Thank goodness, now I can relax! I never before realized how exhausting it must have been for Cinderella having to be radiant to everyone in sight … Lord, I’m in such a state, Robert, does it show? I feel so excited I don’t see how I can possibly survive—in fact maybe I’m already dead and this is what it’s like in heaven. … Oh, listen—Johann Strauss—yes, that proves it, I am in heaven! Come on, Robert, what’s the matter with you? Let’s dance!”
And that was the moment when we danced together beneath the chandeliers at Oxmoon as the orchestra played “The Blue Danube.”
“Oh, this is such paradise!” exclaimed Ginette, echoing my thoughts word for word but glancing restlessly past me to the doors of the ballroom as if she could hardly wait to escape. “I’ll remember this moment forever and ever!”
“I’ll remember it till the day I die. Listen, Ginette, wait for me, you’ve got to wait—”
“What? I can’t hear you!” The orchestra was blazing into a new coda and as we whirled by the dais I saw her again look past my shoulder at the open doors in the distance.
“I said you’ve got to wait for me because—”
She left me. The orchestra was still playing “The Blue Danube” but as she ran the full length of the ballroom all the couples stopped dancing to stare at her. She ran swiftly and gracefully, her feet seeming barely to touch the ground, and suddenly there was a flash of diamonds as she pulled off her ring, tossed it aside and carelessly consigned her engagement to oblivion.
He was waiting for her in the doorway. As I have already mentioned, I had no trouble recognizing Conor Kinsella. He was smiling that charming Irish smile of his and as she flung herself into his arms he kissed her with appalling intimacy on the mouth.
The music stopped. No one moved. A great silence fell upon the ballroom and then in my mind’s eye I saw the mirrored walls darken, the chandeliers grow dim and my fairy tale turn to ashes to foul the perfumed festering air.
2
I
S O MUCH FOR ROMANCE. Later I considered it fortunate that this early experience had granted me immunity, and I was never troubled by such irrational behavior again.
After the ball life went on. I admit I did wonder at the time how it could but it did,
True to the conventions of the fairy tale I was instantly changed. The long tedious journey through adolescence was terminated as abruptly as if my fairy godmother had waved a magic wand, and at that moment childhood lay forever behind me and only manhood was real.
“Robert! My dear, isn’t this thrilling! What a birthday treat …” She swept on, radiantly oblivious of my transformation, and disappeared into the ballroom. Presently I found I had to sit down. Then I found I could not sit down but had to stand up. I was beside myself. All the famous love poetry which I had previously dismissed as “soppy” and “wet” now streamed through my brain until even the rhythm of the iambic pentameters seemed impregnated with a mystical significance. Like the author of the Book of Revelation I was conscious of a new heaven and a new earth. I stumbled forward, broke into a run and hared after her into the ballroom.
“Ginette, Ginette—”
She heard me. I saw her turn her head idly and give me a languid wave with her fan. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten!” she called. “I’ve saved the first waltz after supper for you!” And she began to dance away from me in Sir William Appleby’s arms.
Some sort of interval passed which I can only presume I spent dancing with the girls I was supposed to dance with and behaving as I was supposed to behave. I must have shown some semblance of normality for no one inquired anxiously after my health. Did I eat any supper? Possibly. I have a dim memory of sipping a glass of champagne but giving up halfway through because I was afraid I might go mad with euphoria.
“Oh good, this is your waltz, isn’t it, Robert? Thank goodness, now I can relax! I never before realized how exhausting it must have been for Cinderella having to be radiant to everyone in sight … Lord, I’m in such a state, Robert, does it show? I feel so excited I don’t see how I can possibly survive—in fact maybe I’m already dead and this is what it’s like in heaven. … Oh, listen—Johann Strauss—yes, that proves it, I am in heaven! Come on, Robert, what’s the matter with you? Let’s dance!”
And that was the moment when we danced together beneath the chandeliers at Oxmoon as the orchestra played “The Blue Danube.”
“Oh, this is such paradise!” exclaimed Ginette, echoing my thoughts word for word but glancing restlessly past me to the doors of the ballroom as if she could hardly wait to escape. “I’ll remember this moment forever and ever!”
“I’ll remember it till the day I die. Listen, Ginette, wait for me, you’ve got to wait—”
“What? I can’t hear you!” The orchestra was blazing into a new coda and as we whirled by the dais I saw her again look past my shoulder at the open doors in the distance.
“I said you’ve got to wait for me because—”
She left me. The orchestra was still playing “The Blue Danube” but as she ran the full length of the ballroom all the couples stopped dancing to stare at her. She ran swiftly and gracefully, her feet seeming barely to touch the ground, and suddenly there was a flash of diamonds as she pulled off her ring, tossed it aside and carelessly consigned her engagement to oblivion.
He was waiting for her in the doorway. As I have already mentioned, I had no trouble recognizing Conor Kinsella. He was smiling that charming Irish smile of his and as she flung herself into his arms he kissed her with appalling intimacy on the mouth.
The music stopped. No one moved. A great silence fell upon the ballroom and then in my mind’s eye I saw the mirrored walls darken, the chandeliers grow dim and my fairy tale turn to ashes to foul the perfumed festering air.
2
I
S O MUCH FOR ROMANCE. Later I considered it fortunate that this early experience had granted me immunity, and I was never troubled by such irrational behavior again.
After the ball life went on. I admit I did wonder at the time how it could but it did,
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