“I’ll think about it, I’ll see,” said Lily.
But she had to get used by degrees to the idea of going and seeing that Jimmy who was now ruining her. A strange curiosity, nevertheless, drove her toward that conqueror, once a bike-cleaning workman, who was now topping the bill at Berlin and making as much money by himself as a whole program put together. He would receive her kindly, she was sure of that. Oh and then she wanted to tell him that she had had nothing to do with that business of the patents ... that she did not approve of Trampy’s conduct ...! And then he could give her news of Pa and Ma, as he had come from London, where he must have seen them! And she was dying to know! The idea was increasing with her that life with Trampy had become impossible. And, in case she should leave him, she dreaded finding herself alone. Already there were all those offers being made to her, a married woman, driving her mad! She, Lily Clifton, was treated like a “Parisienne”: she hated that sort! To walk about the stage, two by two, might pass; but it was possible to go too far, like the conductor of the orchestra, who, the other day, tried to kiss her in her dressing-room, married woman though she was! Then what would it be when she traveled alone! On the continent, too! Oh, she would have liked to be a good little wife! But, as that could not be, better go back to her Pa and Ma and have a home, a real one, with a servant in it. She was yearning for a home. But how would she be received in that case? Would they put the blame on her? Had they forgiven her? Had she a Pa and Ma still? That was what she wanted to know.
Lily would have liked to look handsome and elegant on the day when she went to Jimmy, so as to show him that he was not the only one who made a lot of money; but she felt very small and terribly excited. The hotel itself, the great clock, the waiters, everything made an impression on her, so different from her boarding-house in the Akerstrasse. She felt like running away after knocking at his door; and Jimmy opened it with the preoccupied air of a man who is disturbed at an inconvenient moment. But suddenly he put out his hand in hearty greeting:
“Hullo, Lily! Come in.”
Lily entered a bright sitting-room, neatly furnished with a sofa and comfortable chairs; no bed; a room which served only for that. She at once felt more at her ease. Jimmy motioned her to a seat near a table covered with papers, full of marks and signs which she did not understand, and books, rulers and compasses. She tried to be simple and dignified; apologized for interrupting him:
“Brain-work, I see,” she said, pointing to the papers. “That’s hard, too, I suppose,” she added, to say something, for a start, like talking about the weather.
“A matter of habit, like the bike,” said Jimmy, in a tone of conviction. “Sit down, Lily, there in that big arm-chair; you’re not disturbing me.”
“’K you,” said Lily, sitting down, feeling reassured by his cordial welcome and thinking that, at least, he was polite.
“I am glad to see you again, Lily,” Jimmy went on, taking a chair himself. “Always glad to see you. And how are you? Keeping well?”
“’K you,” said Lily.