IX
My family was exultant.
Behold me returned to "proper" life, from which I had so long been absent, by the massive trap-door of marriage.... I took on a value in their reassured eyes, I became a somebody, and in the ardor of the first moment they had the impression that they completely forgave me.
They were exultant. They sent a charming gown to my lodgings and apprised me that a big dinner was being arranged to give my future husband the chance to become acquainted. In spite of my repugnance I was caught in the cog-wheels. The joy of seeing my mother again made me pass over everything indulgently.
It was she who ruined the whole business. Could I not see her disdainful attitude towards a man's poverty, her terrorized submission to the world's judgment? "You know, you are supposed to be coming back from England, we have even given details, don't contradict us...." And the quasi-respect with which she encompassed me because of the authority with which marriage crowns a daughter!
There certainly was enough to frighten one. Their rejoicing smelled of revenge. What stifling quality, I wonder, can marriage have? What oppression, what defeats, what chains await me? Am I going to prison?
But when I turn towards him and bathe my sight in the serene waters of his eyes, I recover my assurance and soar with him again. For them, it is clear, marriage is an irrevocable finality, a tight ring, the oppression of that wild, free instinct which you breathe out with your breath. To us marriage is only a word.
Throughout the dinner time stood still, each second stagnated and told a lie. And something indefinably foul and poisonous rose from their attitude. Sometimes I felt as if I had never quitted this hypocritical spot and this gilded furniture. I held aloof from him in apparent indifference, but really to save our innocent love from their profane eyes.
They left us alone for a moment, and that moment is the one thing in the whole evening of which I retain a clear picture although scarcely a week has passed since then. In saying we were alone I am not quite accurate. A law forbade that young people should be left alone together for a single instant. My sister and her big boy of a fiancé were near us; we were not quite sure which couple had been put in custody of the other.
With arms fondly entwined about each other's waists they began to kiss and hug. She held up her lips and uncoiled the serpent of her body tantalizingly. When they were a little tired and their mouths blown, I heard a panting sentence which ended with: "You will love me always?" "Of course, always," he murmured in her ear.
I blushed. Not from offended modesty, but he and I—we had never dreamed of such vows. They seemed silly to me. How can one swear to love forever and say to a man: "Unto all eternity I shall be the most beautiful, the only one in your heart"? Always, forever, words which life at every turn refutes, how is it that a live heart would not give them the lie?
I must have looked a little haggard. My sister turning round saw that we sat apart with a gloomy, distant manner. The same thought was in his mind.
"Aren't they cold for lovers?..." By way of reply to her own question, she kissed her fiancé.