Louis Couperus

“ For this she had neglected the whole of the other life of a wife, of a mother, even of a woman of the world and even of a smart woman, not caring for it, despising auxiliaries, feeling sure of her fascinations and very little of a mother by nature. Oh, she was old now and alone! And she lay lonely in her chilly bed; and that evening she had not even the consolation that Lot would come from the room next to hers to give her a good-night kiss in bed as he knew how, pettingly, a long, fond kiss on her forehead. ”

“ What was the good of wanting to live, when nevertheless your life was mapped out for you by things stronger than yourself that slumbered in your blood?
Ottilie gave herself up to her French novel, for Steyn de Weert had entered the room, with Jack leaping in front of him. And any one who had seen Mamma a moment ago and saw her now would have noticed this phenomenon, that Mamma became much older as soon as her husband entered. The plump cheeks contracted nervously and the lines round the nose and mouth grew deeper. The little straight nose stuck out more sharply, the forehead frowned angrily. ”

“ The fingers, which were tearing the pages of a novel anyhow with a hairpin, trembled; and the page was torn awry. The back became rounder, like that of a cat assuming the defensive. She said nothing, but poured out the tea.
"Coosh!" she said to the dog.
And, glad that the dog came to her, she patted him on the head with a half-caress; and the fox-terrier, giving a last sharp bark, spun round upon himself and, very suddenly, nestled down on Ottilie's skirt, with a deep sigh. Steyn de Weert, sitting opposite her, drank his tea. ”

“ Then—in the days when she was the beautiful Lietje—everything about her had been pleasant, nice, caressing, playful, jesting, almost adoring and entreating, because she was so pretty and gay and attractive and had an irresistible laugh and a temper full of the most delightful little whims. True, through all this there was always the sting of jealousy; but in those days so much of it had come her way: all the caressing homage which the world, the world of men, expends on a pretty woman! ”

“ Lot had been lately to Brussels with Elly, to see his father; Trevelley was spending a life of pleasure in London: when all was said, she had liked him the best. Her three English children lived in England, felt more English than Dutch; Ottilie was leading her curious, unconventional life at Nice: the whole family cried scandal about it; and Lot she was now about to lose. He had always stayed with her so nicely, though he went abroad pretty frequently; and he had hardly any friends at the Hague and never went to the Witte. Now he was going to be married; he was no longer young, for a young man ”

“ The room was empty around her and unhomely: the bedroom of a woman who does not care for all the trifles of comfort and the vanities of the toilet and whose great joy always was to long for the love and caresses of those whom she found attractive, because of the once—often secret—wave of passion that flowed between them and her. ”

“ Lot made a gesture of weariness:
"Come, Mamma," he said, "be calm now and don't think about that scene. I'm going on to Elly presently; meantime I want to sit cosily with you for a bit. Steyn's your husband, after all. You mustn't always be bickering with him and saying and thinking such things. You were just like a little fury again. It brings wrinkles, you know, losing your temper like that."
"I am an old woman."
"But you've still got a very soft little skin."
Ottilie smiled; and Lot stood up:
"There," he said, "give me a kiss.... Won't you? Must I give you one? You angry little Mummy! ... ”

“ He would never^make a hell of his life, as long as he still felt well and strong. With a good dose of indifference you can shake off everything. It was this indifference of his which irritated his wife, till she felt as nervous as a cat when he did no more than enter the room. He had not spoken a word, sat drinking his tea, reading the newspaper which he had brought with him. In the small living-room, where the gas hummed and the wind rattled the panes, the fox-terrier sometimes snorted in dreams that made him groan and moan on the trailing edge of his mistress' dress. ”

“ Is it because I am going to be married?"
"Perhaps."
"But you're fond of Elly ..."
"Yes, she's very nice."
"The best thing we can do is to go on living together; Elly's fond of you too. I've talked to Steyn about it."
Lot called his step-father, his second step-father, Steyn, without anything else, after having called his first, when he was still a boy, "Mr." Trevelley. Ottilie had been married three times.
"The house is too small," said Mamma, "especially if you go having a family soon." ”

“ Then why was he doing it, he asked himself, as he had asked himself day after day, during that week which had followed on his proposal.
"Mamma, can you tell me? Why did I propose to Elly?"
Ottilie looked up. She was accustomed to queer and humorous questions from Lot and she used, to answer him in the same tone, as far as she was able; but this question made her feel a prick of jealousy, a prick that hurt very much, physically, like a thorn in the flesh.
"Why you proposed to Elly? I don't know. We always do things without knowing why." ”

“ And these two people, whose lives had been welded together by civil contract, because of the man's feelings of conventional honesty and his sense of not being able to act otherwise as a man of honour, these two had once, years ago, twenty years ago, longed passionately, the man for the woman and the woman for the man. ”

“ Lot got up; he was going to Elly that evening. He kissed his mother, with his constant little laugh of silent amusement, his little laugh at Mamma.
"You never used to go out every evening," said Mamma, reproachfully ”