Пользователь - WORLD'S END

M. Pinjon rode all the way from Nice in an autobus, his first free day. He brought his piccolo, and they sat out on the terrace, and he played shrill little tunes, "Magali," and the "Marche des Rois," and Lanny danced them, and the son of the warm South became inspired, and played faster and more gaily, and danced while he played. Beauty, who happened to be at home, peered through the blinds of a window now and then, and watched the dapper little man with the neat black mustache capering with such agility; she had to admit that it was a touching scene - out of the childhood of the world, as it were, before social classes came into being.

Afterward Rosine brought wine and cake. M. Pinjon was treated with every courtesy - except that he did not again see the face of the loveliest of grass widows. The Provencal chansons which tell of troubadours singing in castles and carrying away princesses somehow did not fit the circumstances of the year 1914 on the Cфte d'Azur.

VI

After that episode Beauty Budd decided that she could no longer leave her child in ignorance of the facts of life. She sought out her friend Sophie, who had a new suggestion. There was in Nice an Austrian-Jewish physician of the name of Bauer-Siemans, practitioner of a method known as psychoanalysis, just now sweeping Europe and America. Ladies in the highest social circles discovered that they had inferiority complexes - that was the German jawbreaker Minderwertigkeitscomplexe, called "the Minkos" for short. Ladies and gentlemen talked quite blandly about their Oedipus fixations and their anal-erotic impulses; it was horrible, but at the same time fascinating. The thing that carried ladies off their feet was the fact that for ten dollars an hour you could employ a cultured and intelligent gentleman to hear you talk about yourself. It cost many times that to give a dinner party - and then you discovered that the gentlemen wanted to talk about themselves !

"I don't know how much I believe of that stuff," said the Baroness de la Tourette; "but at least the man knows the facts and won't mind talking about them."

"But will he want to bother with a child, Sophie?"

"Hand him an envelope with a hundred-franc note in it, and let nature do the rest," said the practical-minded baroness.

So Mrs. Budd telephoned and asked for an hour or two of the valuable time of Dr. Bauer-Siemans, and took Lanny with her and left him in the outer office while she told about the baron, and then the gigolo.

The psychoanalyst was a learned-looking gentleman having a high forehead topped with black wavy hair, and gold pince-nez which he took off now and then and used in making gestures. He spoke English with a not too heavy accent. "But why don't you talk to the boy yourself, Mrs. Budd?" he demanded.

More blood mounted to Beauty's already well-suffused cheeks. "I just can't, Doctor. I've tried, but I can't speak the words."

"You are an American?" he inquired.

"I am the daughter of a Baptist minister in New England."

"Ah, I see. Puritanism!" Dr. Bauer-Siemans said it as if it were "poliomyelitis" or "Addison's disease."

"It seems to be ingrained," said Beauty, lowering her lovely blue eyes.

"The purpose of psychoanalysis is to bring such repressions to the surface of consciousness, Mrs. Budd. So we get rid of them and acquire normal attitudes."

"What I want is for you to talk to Lanny," said the mother, hastily. "I would like you to consider it a professional matter, please." She handed over a scented envelope, not sealed but with the flap tucked in.

The doctor smiled. "We don't usually receive payment in advance," he said, and laid the envelope on the desk. "Leave the little fellow with me for an hour or so, and I'll tell him what he needs to know." So Beauty got up and went out; meantime the doctor glanced into the envelope, and saw that Lanny was entitled to a full dose of the facts of life.

VII

The boy found himself seated in a chair facing the desk of this strange professional gentleman. When he heard what he was there for, the blood began to climb into his cheeks; for Lanny, too, was a little Puritan, far from the home of his forefathers.

However, it wasn't really so bad; for the Baroness de la Tourette had been right. Lanny had not failed to see the animals, and the peasant boys had talked in the crudest language. His mind was a queer jumble of truth and nonsense, most of the latter supplied by his own speculations. The peasant boys had told him that men and women behaved like that also, but Lanny hadn't been able to believe it; when the doctor asked why not, he said: "It didn't seem dignified." The other smiled and replied: "We do many things which do not seem dignified, but we have to take nature as we find it."

The doctor's explanations were not by means of the bees and the flowers, but with the help of a medical book full of pictures. After Lanny had got over the first shock he found this absorbingly interesting; here were the things he had been wondering about, and someone who would give him straight answers. It was impossible for Lanny to imagine such desires or behavior on his own part, but the doctor said that he would very soon be coming to that period of life. He would find the time of love one of happiness, but also of danger and strain; there arose problems of two different natures, man's and woman's, learning to adjust themselves each to the other, and they needed all the knowledge that was to be had.

All this was sensible, and something which every boy ought to have; Lanny said so, and pleased the learned-looking doctor, who gave him the full course for which the mother had paid, and even a little extra. He took up a subject which had a great effect upon the future of both mother and son. "I understand that your mother is divorced," he remarked. "There are many problems for children of such a family."

"I suppose so," said Lanny innocently - for he was not aware of any problems in his own family.

"Understand, I'm not going to pry into your affairs; but if you choose to tell me things that will help me to guide you, it will be under the seal of confidence."

"Yes, sir," said Lanny. "Thank you very much."

"When families break up, sooner or later one party or the other remarries, or perhaps both do; so the child becomes a stepchild, which means adjustments that are far from easy."

"My father has remarried and has a family in Connecticut; but I have never been there."

"Possibly your father foresees difficulties. How long have your mother and father been divorced?"

"It was before I can remember. Ten years, I guess."

"Well, let me tell you things out of my experience. Your mother is a beautiful woman, and doubtless many men have wished to marry her. Perhaps she has refused because she doesn't want to make you unhappy. Has she ever talked to you about such matters?"

"No, sir."

"You have seen men in the company of your mother, of course.''

"Yes, sir."

"You haven't liked it, perhaps?"

Lanny began to be disturbed. "I - I suppose I haven't liked it if they were with her too much," he admitted.

Dr. Bauer-Siemans smiled, and told him that a psychoanalyst talked to hundreds of men and women, and they all had patterns of behavior which one learned to recognize. "Often they are ashamed of these," he said, "and try to deny them, and we have to drag the truth out of them - for their own good, of course, since the first step toward rational behavior is to know our own selves. You understand what I am saying?"

"I think so, Doctor."

"Then face this question in your own heart." The doctor had his gold pince-nez in his hand, and used them as if to pin Lanny down. "Would you be jealous if your mother were to love some man?"

"Yes, sir - I'm afraid maybe I would."