what are you doing here? You’re soaked.”
My mind works quickly. Down a side street I see a surgeon’s pole, jutting from a shop. It is striped red, white and blue—red for bleeding, blue for a shave and white for fractures and teeth pulling.
“I have to have a tooth pulled,” I say. “I have a terrible toothache.”
“But why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you go to the surgeon in the Prinsengracht?”
“Mrs. Mijtins recommended this one.”
“I will accompany you.” Cornelis turns to the men. “Be so kind and wait for me back in the office.”
“No, go back to your work.”
“But—”
“Please, sir. I will be all right. And look—the rain has stopped.”
“But you cannot return unaccompanied; you’ll be feeling unwell—”
“Maria is coming to collect me. Please go.”
Cornelis pauses, stroking his beard. The two men wait restlessly. I know I have won.
He kisses me on the cheek and then he leaves. I walk down the side street toward the surgeon’s shop. Behind me I hear footsteps.
It is Jan. He cups my elbow and steers me into a tavern. We sit down at a table. The place is half empty; I recognize nobody here. Besides, I am not a frequenter of alehouses and this one is some distance from my home.
“What are we going to do?” I ask him. “If I go to your studio I’ll be seen. Sooner or later I’ll be seen.”
“You look so beautiful.” Gazing at me, Jan rubs my face with his handkerchief. “Come home to my bed.”
“I cannot! I’ll be seen.”
“Come when it’s dark.”
“I will still be seen.”
“My darling, I cannot live without you.”
A girl brings us glasses of beer. On the wall hangs a birdcage. Inside it a parrot moves along its perch, claw by claw. It moves as close to us as it can get; then it cocks its head and watches us with one eye.
“And now I’m believed to have a tooth missing,” I say.
“I would pull all my teeth out for you.”
“No! I’ve got one old man already, isn’t that enough?”
Suddenly we burst into laughter. We lean against each other, shaking. How can I mock my husband? I will be consumed by the fires of hell.
“How can you bear him to kiss you?”
“Don’t—”
“Those scrawny arms around you, I cannot bear it—”
“Stop it!”
It is true, of course. Cornelis’s sour breath . . . his gray, loose skin . . . the other part I cannot bear to think about— but I keep quiet. Isn’t this treachery enough?
Under the table Jan takes my hand. “Come to me tonight.”
I gaze at him—his wild wet hair, his blue eyes. And I am lost.
“WHY ARE YOU NOT READY?” asks Cornelis. “It is six o’clock.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“But you enjoy playing cards with the Konicks. Last time you won, remember? And they have just taken delivery of a spinet. You told them last week how much you wanted to try it.”
“My tooth still hurts.”
“Oh, my poor dear—let me look—”
I move back. “No—”
“It must be painful—”
“The oil of camphor eases the pain, but I want to have an early night.”
“Then I will stay with you.”
“No!”
“It is no pleasure without you by my side.”
“I would rather be alone,” I reply. “I am no company tonight. Truly, dearest—I will go to bed early. Please go— they are your oldest friends—please, I beg you.”
Cornelis fetches his cloak and goes to the door. Suddenly I run after him and fling my arms around his neck. Surprised, he turns; our noses bump. This awkwardness throws us off balance.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter into his beard.
“Sorry? To show me such affection?” He holds me tightly.
Just for a moment I wish none of this had happened. If only we could turn back the clock and be as we were—contented, safe within these rooms. I cannot recognize this new woman whose heart beats within me—an impostor, who should be thrown out of this house in disgrace.
“I am unworthy of you,” I whisper.
“How can you say that?” He smooths my
My mind works quickly. Down a side street I see a surgeon’s pole, jutting from a shop. It is striped red, white and blue—red for bleeding, blue for a shave and white for fractures and teeth pulling.
“I have to have a tooth pulled,” I say. “I have a terrible toothache.”
“But why didn’t you tell me? Why don’t you go to the surgeon in the Prinsengracht?”
“Mrs. Mijtins recommended this one.”
“I will accompany you.” Cornelis turns to the men. “Be so kind and wait for me back in the office.”
“No, go back to your work.”
“But—”
“Please, sir. I will be all right. And look—the rain has stopped.”
“But you cannot return unaccompanied; you’ll be feeling unwell—”
“Maria is coming to collect me. Please go.”
Cornelis pauses, stroking his beard. The two men wait restlessly. I know I have won.
He kisses me on the cheek and then he leaves. I walk down the side street toward the surgeon’s shop. Behind me I hear footsteps.
It is Jan. He cups my elbow and steers me into a tavern. We sit down at a table. The place is half empty; I recognize nobody here. Besides, I am not a frequenter of alehouses and this one is some distance from my home.
“What are we going to do?” I ask him. “If I go to your studio I’ll be seen. Sooner or later I’ll be seen.”
“You look so beautiful.” Gazing at me, Jan rubs my face with his handkerchief. “Come home to my bed.”
“I cannot! I’ll be seen.”
“Come when it’s dark.”
“I will still be seen.”
“My darling, I cannot live without you.”
A girl brings us glasses of beer. On the wall hangs a birdcage. Inside it a parrot moves along its perch, claw by claw. It moves as close to us as it can get; then it cocks its head and watches us with one eye.
“And now I’m believed to have a tooth missing,” I say.
“I would pull all my teeth out for you.”
“No! I’ve got one old man already, isn’t that enough?”
Suddenly we burst into laughter. We lean against each other, shaking. How can I mock my husband? I will be consumed by the fires of hell.
“How can you bear him to kiss you?”
“Don’t—”
“Those scrawny arms around you, I cannot bear it—”
“Stop it!”
It is true, of course. Cornelis’s sour breath . . . his gray, loose skin . . . the other part I cannot bear to think about— but I keep quiet. Isn’t this treachery enough?
Under the table Jan takes my hand. “Come to me tonight.”
I gaze at him—his wild wet hair, his blue eyes. And I am lost.
“WHY ARE YOU NOT READY?” asks Cornelis. “It is six o’clock.”
“I don’t want to go.”
“But you enjoy playing cards with the Konicks. Last time you won, remember? And they have just taken delivery of a spinet. You told them last week how much you wanted to try it.”
“My tooth still hurts.”
“Oh, my poor dear—let me look—”
I move back. “No—”
“It must be painful—”
“The oil of camphor eases the pain, but I want to have an early night.”
“Then I will stay with you.”
“No!”
“It is no pleasure without you by my side.”
“I would rather be alone,” I reply. “I am no company tonight. Truly, dearest—I will go to bed early. Please go— they are your oldest friends—please, I beg you.”
Cornelis fetches his cloak and goes to the door. Suddenly I run after him and fling my arms around his neck. Surprised, he turns; our noses bump. This awkwardness throws us off balance.
“I’m so sorry,” I mutter into his beard.
“Sorry? To show me such affection?” He holds me tightly.
Just for a moment I wish none of this had happened. If only we could turn back the clock and be as we were—contented, safe within these rooms. I cannot recognize this new woman whose heart beats within me—an impostor, who should be thrown out of this house in disgrace.
“I am unworthy of you,” I whisper.
“How can you say that?” He smooths my
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