Eline Vere Read Free Page A

a sigh began to undress, letting the lace gown slide down her hips like a black cloud. The door opened and Eline came in, looking rather pale in a white flannel peignoir, with her hair loose and flowing.
    â€˜Why Elly, not in bed yet?’
    â€˜No, I . . . I’ve been reading. Did you enjoy your evening?’
    â€˜Yes indeed, it was very nice. I only wish Henk weren’t so insufferably dull. He never said a word, just stood there fidgeting with his watch chain and looking awkward, except when they played whist during the intervals.’
    Somewhat tetchily, Betsy wedged the toe of one foot against the heel of the other and kicked off a dainty shoe of gilded leather and beadwork
    Eline stretched herself languidly.
    â€˜Did you tell Madame Verstraeten I was indisposed?’
    â€˜Yes I did. But you know me, Sis, after a late night like this I can’t wait to get to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?’
    Eline was used to her sister being mildly out of sorts after an evening out, regardless of whether she had enjoyed herself, desiring only to shed her clothes as soon as possible.
    Nevertheless, she was tempted to make some sharp reply, but in the next instant felt too lethargic and feeble to do so. She touched her lips to Betsy’s cheek and, without thinking, leant her head against her sister’s shoulder in a sudden craving for tenderness.
    â€˜You’re not really ill, are you?’
    â€˜No. Just feeling a bit lazy, that’s all. Goodnight then.’
    â€˜Sleep well.’
    Eline, languorous and graceful in her white peignoir, retired. Betsy picked up her lace gown from the floor and continued undressing.
    . . .
    In the corridor Eline felt a vague sense of banishment, which caused her momentary displeasure. She had been quite alone all evening, having giving in to a whim of indolence and ennui not to go out, and any length of solitude tended to bring on melancholy, making her long for some company and light-hearted banter. She paused in the dark, undecided, then groped her way down the stairs and entered the dining room.
    Henk had flung his tailcoat on the sofa, and now stood in his waistcoat and shirtsleeves preparing his nightly hot toddy. Swirls of steam rose from the glass as he replaced the kettle on the hot plate.
    â€˜Hello, my dear!’ he said heartily, an affable smile spreading beneath the bushy blond moustache as he regarded her with hissleepy, blue-grey eyes. ‘Weren’t you very bored this evening, all by yourself?’
    â€˜A little, yes. Not as bored as you, maybe,’ she responded with a coy smile.
    â€˜Me? Quite the contrary; the tableaux were really rather good.’
    He stood straddle-legged, sipping his hot drink with audible relish.
    â€˜Has the youngster been good?’
    â€˜Yes, sound asleep all evening. Are you staying up?’
    â€˜I just want to have a look at the papers. But why aren’t you in bed yet?’
    â€˜Oh, no reason . . .’
    Turning to the pier glass, she stretched her arms again lingeringly, then twisted her loose hair into a sleek, dark chignon. She felt a need to confide in him, to have a heart-to-heart talk, but in her vacant, dreamy state she was at a loss for any particular topic to engage his sympathy. She wished she could break down and weep, overcome by some not-too-lacerating grief, for the sole purpose of hearing his gentle, bass voice consoling her. But she could think of nothing to say, and continued to stretch herself with languishing gestures.
    â€˜Is anything wrong? Tell me, my dear, is anything the matter?’
    Widening her eyes, she shook her head from side to side. No, nothing was wrong.
    â€˜You can tell me, you know!’
    â€˜Well, I’m just a bit upset, that’s all.’
    â€˜What about?’
    She gave a little moan, pouting her lips.
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve been feeling rather nervous all day.’
    He laughed his gentle,