Read Online In Search of Love and Beauty by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala - Free Book Online Page A

a note. It was for Louise—tears of rage rose in her eyes, she tore the note across and across and threw the pieces on the deep-pile rose carpet. How handsome she looked as she did this, how brilliant her eyes were, and her bosom heaved like an opera singer’s: her gold-toothed, bald-headed inamorato across the restaurant thrilled at the sight of his own rejection.
    She jerked her head in his direction: “I hope you’re not mixing Leo up with one of those. And I hope you don’t think there’s anything vulgar going on.”
    â€œI told you: I’m not blaming you. I never thought it was vulgar when you made your pass at Leo—well, yes, of course you did, my goodness, what else was it?” Now it was Regi who was angry, whose eyes blazed; but unlike Louise’s eyes, full of fire, Regi’s were of ice, glinting green: “From the very first time you saw him at my place, from that first afternoon, I could see it: what was going to happen; what you were after.”
    â€œLies, lies,” said Louise, shutting her eyes.
    â€œBut I’m saying: it’s not your fault. How could you help it? You were ready for it. And I was happy for you; I was glad. I’m still glad,” she said, crushing her cigarette in the ashtray in a rather vicious way.
    Louise gathered up her handbag. She buttoned the coat of her two-piece. She rose with a resolute air.
    â€œBut what’s the matter?” Regi inquired, looking up at her. “Can’t we even talk frankly with each other—I thought that’s what friends are for? Oh, all right, go then, if you want to, but don’t forget it’s your turn for the check this week.”
    Louise opened her purse; she placed money on the tableregally. And regally—tall, full-figured, crowned with a wide-brimmed hat—she walked out of the restaurant. She did not hear Regi call after her, “You can take the change from me later!” Nor was she in the least aware of the tide of interest and admiration that followed in her wake. As soon as she disappeared through the revolving door, this tide turned and swept back toward the marble table where Regi now sat alone. Regi had picked up and counted the money and put it away in her alligator bag; she called for more coffee with cream; she recrossed her legs. Men straigthened their neckties. With a click of her gold lighter, Regi lighted another cigarette and rounded her mouth to blow the first smoke ring into the air.
    Forty years later, Louise and Regi still met at the Old Vienna, though not very regularly. Regi lived mostly in Florida now, and when she visited New York, she didn’t always bother to call Louise. But when she did, they usually arranged to meet at the Old Vienna, and as before they occupied one of the little tables for two ranged down the center. And as before, they drew many glances—only now not because they were handsome but because, perched among the crowded tables, tall and old and odd, they were impossible to overlook. And Regi, though still retaining the bored manner she had developed for social occasions, was at the same time avidly alert to everything going on around her.
    â€œWhy do you still come here?” she asked Louise, though she herself had never suggested another meeting place. Her eyes roved around, rested on Leo’s old table in the alcove: “Because of him, I suppose.”
    â€œHe’s hardly here now. He’s at the Academy.”
    â€œAcademy,” Regi said. “Ridiculous. Who’s ever heard of such pretentiousness. . . . And I hear the girls are getting younger and younger.”
    â€œYou’re looking well, Regi,” Louise said.
    â€œBecause I look after myself well.” Her eyes rested on Louise; she smoked disdainfully. Louise still wore one of those same dark suits Regi remembered from years ago, and the same big hat to go with it; only now her hair, too thin to keep pins in, straggled from