Israel Zangwill

“ But Madame Valière was already affectionately untying Madame Dépine's bonnet-strings. "It is for my friend," she cried. "And let it be as chic and convenable as possible!"
He bowed. "An artist remains always an artist."
Madame Dépine removed her wig and exposed her poor old scalp, with its thin, forlorn wisps and patches of grey hair, grotesque, almost indecent, in its nudity. But the coiffeur measured it in sublime seriousness, putting his tape this way and that way, while Madame Valière's eyes danced in sympathetic excitement. ”

“ And so, when Madame Dépine received a sister-in-law from Tonnerre, or Madame Valière's nephew came up by the excursion train from that same quiet and incongruously christened townlet, the Parisian personage would receive the visitor in the darkest corner of the salon, with her back to the light, and a big bonnet on her head—an imposing figure repeated duskily in the gold mirrors. These visits, instead of a relief, became a terror. Even a provincial knows it is not convenable for an old woman to wear a brown wig. ”

“ IX The long quasi-Lenten weeks went by, and unflinchingly the two old ladies pursued their pious quest of the grey wig. Butter had vanished from their bread, and beans from their coffee. Their morning brew was confected of charred crusts, and as they sipped it solemnly they exchanged the reflection that it was quite equal to the coffee at the crémerie. Positively one was safer drinking one's own messes. Figs, no longer posing as a pastime of the palate, were accepted seriously as pièces de résistance. The Spring was still cold, yet fires could be left to die after breakfast. ”

“ Madame Valière took the word. "We are thinking of ordering a wig."
"Cash in advance, of course," said the coiffeur.
"Comment!" cried Madame Valière, indignantly. "You do not trust my friend! "
"Madame Valière has moved in the best society," added Madame Dépine.
"But you cannot expect me to do two hundred francs of work and then be left planted with the wigs!"
"But who said two hundred francs?" cried Madame Dépine. "It is only one wig that we demand—to-day at least." ”

“ Madame Valière ignored the suggestion. "But why should a grey wig cost more than any other?"
The coiffeur shrugged his shoulders. "Since there are less grey hairs in the world—"
"Comment!" repeated Madame Valière, in amazement.
"It stands to reason," said the coiffeur. "Since most persons do not live to be old—or only live to be bald." He grew animated, professorial almost, seeing the weight his words carried to unthinking bosoms. ”

“ The Princess, indeed! Ah, the adventuress! She felt choking; she shook her fist in the air. Not even the brooch to show when her family came up from Tonnerre, to say nothing of the wig. Was there a God in the world at all? Oh, holy Mother! No wonder the trickstress would not be escorted to the station—she never went to the station. No wonder she would not sell the royal secrets to the journalist—there were none to sell. Oh! it was all of a piece.
"If I were you I should go to the bureau of police!" said Madame la Propriétaire. ”

“ Madame Valière reminded him.
"He spoke of our old blocks," Madame Dépine intervened hastily. "At our age one changes no more."
Thus persuaded, the "Princess" in her turn denuded herself of her wealth of wig, and Madame Dépine watched with unsmiling satisfaction the stretchings of tape across the ungainly cranium.
"C'est bien," she said. "I return with your fifty francs on the instant."
And having seen her "Princess" safely ensconced in the attic, she rifled the stocking, and returned to the coiffeur. ”

“ He rubbed the American head viciously.
Madame Dépine coloured. "But—but we are two. Is there no reduction on taking a quantity?"
"And why then? A wig is a wig. Twice a hundred francs are two hundred francs."
"One hundred francs for a wig!" said Madame Valière, paling. "I did not pay that for the one I wear."
"I well believe it, madame. A grey wig is not a brown wig."
"But you just said a wig is a wig."
The coiffeur gave angry rubs at the head, in time with his explosive phrases. "You want real hair, I presume—and to your measure—and to look natural—and convenable!" ”

“ I suspected as much when I went in to inquire the other day; but I was afraid to tell you, lest it shouldn't even fit you."
"Fit me!" breathed Madame Valière.
"But whom else?" replied Madame Dépine, impatiently, as she whipped off the "Princess's" wig. "If only it fits you, one can pardon him. Let us see. Stand still, ma chère" and with shaking hands she seized the grey wig.
"But—but—" The "Princess" was gasping, coughing, her ridiculous scalp bare.
"But stand still, then! What is the matter? Are you a little infant? Ah! that is better. Look at yourself, then, in the mirror. ”

“ No gradual approach of the grey, for the black had been equally artificial. The wig is the region without twilight. Only in the swart moustache had the grey crept on, so that perhaps the growing incongruity had necessitated the sudden surrender to age. ”

“ But the polyglot population seething round its malodorous stairs and tortuous corridors remained ignorant that anything was passing in the life of these faded old creatures, and even on the day of drawing lots for the Wig the exuberant hotel retained its imperturbable activity.
Not that they really drew lots. That was a figure of speech, difficult to translate into facts. They preferred to spin a coin. Madame Dépine was to toss, the "Princess" to cry pile ou face. ”

“ They thought of moving to an even cheaper hotel; but then in the course of years Madame Valière had fallen three weeks behind with the rent, and Madame Dépine a fortnight, and these arrears would have to be paid up. The first council ended in despair. But in the silence of the night Madame Dépine had another inspiration. If one suppressed the lottery for a season!
On the average each speculated a full franc a week, with scarcely a gleam of encouragement. Two francs a week each—already the year becomes six months! For six months one can hold out. Hardships shared are halved, too. ”

“ Madame Dépine yielded to the latter consideration; but as Madame Valière, carrying the bulging carpet-bag, was crying "La porte, s'il vous plaît" to the concierge, she heard Madame Dépine come tearing and puffing after her like the steam-tram, and, looking back, saw her breathlessly brandishing her gold brooch.
"Tiens!" she panted, fastening the "Princess's" cloak with it. "That will give thee an air."
"But—it is too valuable. Thou must not." They had never "thou'd" each other before, and this enhanced the tremulousness of the moment. ”

“ No, no; it would not be convenable. There are even people living—"
"But nobody would know," urged Madame Dépine.
"One must carry the head high, even if it is not grey."
It was almost a quarrel. Far below the steam-tram was puffing past. At the window across the street a woman was beating her carpet with swift, spasmodic thwacks, as one who knew the legal time was nearly up. In the tragic silence which followed Madame Valière's rebuke, these sounds acquired a curious intensity.
"I prefer to sacrifice the lottery rather than honour," she added, in more conciliatory accents. ”

“ XI They had not waited till the hundred francs were actually in the stocking. The last few would accumulate while the wig was making. As they sat at their joyous breakfast the next morning, ere starting for the hairdresser's, the casement open to the October sunshine, Jacques brought up a letter for Madame Valière—an infrequent incident. Both old women paled with instinctive distrust of life. ”

“ The treasure-trove was added to the heap of which her stocking was guardian, and thus honestly divided. The trouble, however, was that, as she dared not inform the "Princess," she could not decently back out of the meatless fortnight. Providence, as it turned out, was making them gain a week. As to the figs, however, she confessed on the third day that she hungered sore for them, and Madame Valière readily agreed to make this concession to her weakness.
X This little episode coloured for Madame Dépine the whole dreary period that remained. Life was never again so depressingly definite ”

“ The Church calendar, so richly dyed with figures of saints and martyrs, filled life with colour enough, and fast-days were almost as welcome as feast-days, for if the latter warmed the general air, the former cloaked economy with dignity. ”

“ She had insisted, of course, that the savings for the second wig were not to commence till the return, so that Madame Valière might carry with her a present worthy of her position and her port. They had anxious consultations over this present. Madame Dépine was for a cheap but showy article from the Bon Marché; but Madame Valière reminded her that the price-lists of this enterprising firm knocked at the doors of Tonnerre. Something distinguished (in silver) was her own idea. Madame Dépine frequently wept during these discussions, reminded of her own wedding. ”