The Nice Old Man and the Pretty Girl Read Free

understood, had he thought of it, why the girl’s mother had mentioned the bath. The pose of the philanthropist vanished. He looked into her eyes laughing, as if meaning to laugh at his own moral struggles, seized her by the hand and drew her to him.
    Then the old man would have liked to put on again at once his air of philanthropist. What was the use now of keeping up the odious appearance of seducer? He had the good taste to talk no more about jobs. Instead, he quickly gave her money. Then, after a slight hesitation, he gave her another separate sum, which he meant for that dear lady, her mother. To appear philanthropical, you must give also to the undeserving. Besides, old men always dole out their money in installments, whereas young men empty their pockets with a single gesture, only to repent later.
    Thus the girl had the hard task of having to accept the money twice over and to pretend twice over that she did not want it. The first time is easy and it happens to them all. But the second time? She could not think of a different expression, as the occasion demanded, and repeated mechanically the words and the gestures she had used the first time. The third time too, she would have said: “Money? I don’t want any,” and would have taken it, saying: “I love you.” After the second time she was a little troubled, and the old man attributed her trouble to her disinterestedness.But it may well be that she wondered whether the amount given her had been small and divided into two parts to make it seem larger.
    This simple adventure became more complex in the excited brain of the nice old man. It is fate. Somehow or other, even when an old man pays, knowing that favours will no longer be given him, he always ends by falsifying his love adventures and soon earns the laugh of Beaumarchais and the music of Rossini. My nice old man—so intelligent—did not laugh at the words, simple as they were, of the young girl. The adventure must turn out to be “real” and he willingly lent his hand to the deceit. The girl was so charming that no word of hers could ring false. Now such falsifying had some importance, but only in the mind of the old man. Outwardly its only effect was to make the duration of that first interview, and also of those that followed, a little longer. If the old man had been able to do as he liked, he would have sent the girl away soon, because the immorality of old men is of short duration. But with a woman who loves, you cannot adopt such cavalier methods. He was not vain. He thought: “The girl loves the luxury of my office, of my house, of my person. Perhaps also she likes the gentleness of my voice and the refinement of my manners. She loves this room of mine where there is so much good food. She loves so many things of mine that she may love even me a little.” The proffer of love is a very high compliment and pleases even whenwe don’t know what to do with it. At worst it is at least the equivalent of the knightly titles of persons who deal in oxen, and we know how jealous they are of them. She told him, but without any intention of being tragic, that he was her first lover. And he believed it. In fact the nice old man had to put restraint on himself to prevent himself from offering her money for the third time. So willingly did he yield to the pleasure she gave him that he felt hurt when she told him that she did not like young men, and preferred old ones. This hearing himself called old was a rude awakening and it was painful to have to bow acknowledgments for the flattering declaration. However, the interview, even when least amorous, was anything but a torture to the nice old man. All the energies of the girl were concentrated upon devouring the good supper offered her, so that he could rest at his ease.
    But he was glad to see her go and to be left alone. He was used to the talk of serious persons and it was impossible for him to endure long the foolish talk of the pretty girl. I shall be told