Yes, she had never been able to fathom his whimsical changes, and he certainly was greatly excited about this affair. It could not be that he was incubating a new novel, for that only made him irritable. Now his eyes expressed a rare pleasure. What, O, what could this secret business be?
(So much for what I imagined to be the “Psychology of Anastasia” at this moment. To return to myself.)
I was certainly getting a great deal of fun out of my lessons. The change from book-making to machinery was a salutary one, and every day saw me more enthusiastic. There in the quiet roads of the Bois-de-Boulogne I practised turning and backing, accompanied by an instructor who controlled an extra set of brakes in case of accident. I was beginning to be very proud of myself as I bowled around the Bois, and was even becoming conceited when one morning my professor said to me:
“To-morrow, Monsieur, you must come in the afternoon instead of the morning. Then we will drive along the Champs Elysées and the boulevards, for it is necessary you have some experience in handling the automobile in the midst of traffic. On the morning after, the Inspector will come to examine you for your certificate.”
I was tremendously excited. Instead of rising early the following day I visibly astonished Anastasia by sleeping till ten o’clock. But after lunch I announced that I was going out and would not be back to supper.
I saw her face fall. Doubtless she thought: “His mysterious business has only been transferred from forenoon to afternoon. I thought this morning when he did not get up it was finished. It seems only the hour is changed. But I will say nothing.”
So she watched me from the window as I went away, and I believe the position must have been getting on my nerves for that afternoon, amid the bewildering traffic of Les Etoiles, I lost my head. Trying to avoid a hand-barrow, I crashed into a cab, and of course the emergency brakes refused to work. Considerable damage was done. There were two policemen taking down names, a huge crowd, much excited gesticulation. In the end I promised to call at the office of the cab proprietor and pay for the damage. Sadly I drove back to the garage. Never, I thought, should I pass my examination on the morrow. But my instructor cheered me up, and I began to look forward to it hopefully.
I arrived home trembling with excitement. I could hardly eat my supper, and rose soon after it was over.
“I’ve got an engagement this evening,” I said nervously; “I may be late; don’t wait up for me.”
I was conscious how furtive and suspicious my manner was. I turned away to avoid her straight, penetrating gaze.