Paul Morand - The Man in a Hurry

Pierre had taken it upon himself to write to Angélique and to go and see her, at a time when Fromentine was not there.

“You don’t owe us anything,” Angélique said simply, as she shook her lovely raffia-coloured hair.

“… It’s just that in my mind that promise happened to be the natural sequel to my undertaking to Hedwige. Perhaps you didn’t know that I asked her to marry me?”

“I do know.”

“Perhaps you didn’t know that she refused?”

“No, she didn’t refuse. She told you to wait, which is not the same thing.”

“I longed for her too much for it not to be the same thing.”

“Why did you employ Fromentine as a secretary?”

“To tell you the truth, dear Angélique, it has been a very foolish venture, more and more absurd, and all I want is to be free of it.”

Pierre stood up, set off with his neck outstretched, like a wild duck on a direct flight, stopped because of lack of space, and returned to Angélique.

“Will you talk to me about Hedwige instead?”

“You’ll have to keep still if you want me to explain Hedwige to you,” Angélique began. “She’s someone who is totally honest and very loyal. You showed great human understanding in choosing her: I admire you for that and I like you even more because of it. The family want Hedwige to be happy, but I want you to be happy together and at the same time. For a start, Hedwige is far more intelligent than all of us put together (it’s true that when we’re all together, we’re silly and frivolous). Of course, she’s not very cultured (my methodical and scientific Vincent often says that in the Boisrosés’ home books are only used to prop up table legs), but you yourself have enough culture and erudition to manage without a learned wife. Then Hedwige is exceptionally honest: as a child, she was the one out of all of us who lied the least readily. All right, you know all this only too well and you would prefer to see me revealing Hedwige’s faults? Very well. You are not unaware that there are two kinds of human beings: the givers and the takers. Hedwige clearly belongs to the former. But like all givers, her nerves are frail; her sensitivity is exceptional. She is impressionable; she can be easily discouraged; the slightest thing exhausts her and when she’s worn out, you may find her unsure of herself; no, it’s not that… how can I put it… you may find her… a little changeable; anyway, you won’t find her like that! I’m warning you so that you don’t get upset; avoid using force with her; listen: Hedwige always gives in. Hedwige is someone who’s both calm and good. Take care of her, give her the time to breathe and she will repay everything in long years of happiness because she loves you and she wants to be your wife.”

“Has she told you so?”

“Amongst ourselves, we don’t tell each other things. There’s no point. Everything has been said long before we talk about it.”

“When may I see her?” asked Pierre.

“Come to the house tomorrow.”

Thus did Pierre set off again to Saint-Germain. He, who has never taken a backward step, is once again climbing the steep road that leads him to the Boisrosés’ home. He, for whom instantaneity is dogma and for whom haste is second nature, is patiently retracing the path already trod.

In love as in everything else, he behaved ardently. But saying “in love” is to exclude love. One might as well describe love affairs as delights. Pierre wolfed down ladies in the twinkling of an eye. He enlivened them, he swept them off their feet, he pushed them into corners, he found something to dislike about them and, all of a sudden, he broke up with them. Their unimportance, the pride they experienced in seeing themselves transformed into a burning bush, their inviting sighs, the passiveness with which they resisted did the rest. Particularly since no one could be kinder than he was. This starving wolf who rushed out with gaping and fiery jaws had never frightened a single lamb; the lambs actually ran towards him, not being in the habit of remaining terror-stricken for long. Pierre upset the objects of his attention graciously and irked them just as much as was necessary with his restless behaviour; he hugged and kissed openly, his mouth was fresh, his skin was warm. He strung words together well, he threw himself at women, devoured them without digesting them, and vanished before they had the time to say “phew”, not that a woman would ever utter such a sound. He telescoped situations, returning to the classical unities of time, place and action. He readily confused the declaration of love with ravishment in the taxi, the taxi with the enclosed theatre box, the staircase with the sofa, the squeezed hand with the arm around the waist, the handkerchief with the brassiere, the first date with the last, and the tact and consideration of the early stages with the ecstasies of the ending. All this with so little space between the point of departure and the destination that women believed they were being offered an initial token of gratitude when he was already giving them a farewell present.

He would make plans to die rather than be trapped into wedding preparations every time. The looser the women were, the more fickle they found him. The entire vocabulary that was once used for artillerymen and lovers could equally apply to him: Pierre prepared for action, he unmasked, he struck, he dismantled. It was charming because it was what the young did and, apart from a few tears, it actually suited everyone. He could count on his fingers, the sprightly lad, the girls whom he had made cry, or who had slapped him, or with whom he had genuinely fallen out. He was born like that, belonging to an age when love brought no shame on anyone, when one deprived oneself of nothing, when duties and obligations were by common consent reduced to the minimum. “There’s no reason,” Pierre used to say, “why a pleasure ride by rail should not also be an express train.” His train was always full and he had never had to complain about a derailment.

But Pierre had just reached his thirty-fifth birthday. Not having discovered love, he began to treat it with respect. “The day I find a woman whom I don’t throw myself at,” he told himself, “I shall have arrived at my destination.” He sensed that when that day came, it would not be he who would have to give up his bad habits, it would be they that would give him up.

Hedwige was waiting for him in the drawing room. The tea stood steaming on the tray; an indoor dress, red like that of the old silks of the Orient, flowed down her firm body in lovely folds, like a waterfall over a rock. This scenario immediately made him want to be outside.

“Let’s go out,” he said, “take a coat. I won’t be able to speak unless I have fresh air.”

They went for a walk on the nearby terrace, in the winter twilight, with the early evening lights of Paris below them and the tall forest trees that stopped in a straight line at the edge of the lawn.

Hedwige agreed to accompany him without making any fuss. She found it natural that a hand other than hers should record her fate. She relied on God to take good care of her. Following Pierre in this park did not bother her. She is serene, sensible and brave. The geese are keeping watch.

Pierre was also very self-possessed, very calm. With gravitation causing them to lean towards one another, their fingers became entwined and they were able to reach a deeper understanding of a situation that distinguished them from other people and yet made them similar to everyone else.

This coral-red and sulphur-yellow dusk, this garden filled with naked statues beneath the snow-filled sky, these dark oak trees swaying in the breeze — all these romantic incantations, far from exciting Pierre, cautioned him to exercise modesty and restraint. He felt an expectation growing inside him and he was trying hard to fill it because it was leading him beyond, not just his desires, but what he felt himself capable of. Just as a Christian hopes for a holy death, he was hoping for a real life. His respect for what was happening to him and for the person who was causing it to happen — since Hedwige is innocent and spotless in every respect — preclude him from making any aggressive move.