"Men,
other men, are like actors to me. When I am on the stage, when I am
playing Manon, do you think I see who is playing Des Grieux? Not at all.
He is there, he gives me my _replique_, he excites my nerves, I say a
thousand things under my breath, when I am in his arms I adore him, but
when the curtain goes down, I go off the stage and don't even say good
night to him."
"But he, he doesn't know that."
"Of course not; tenors never do. Well, that is just the way I have
lived, that is just what men have meant to me. They give the _replique_
to my moods, to my needs, and when I have no longer need of them, I go
off tranquilly. That is all there is to it. I take from them what I
want. Of course they will be around me, but they will be nothing to me.
They will be like managers, press-agents, actors. Don't you understand
that?"
"Yes, yes, I understand," he said without sincerity. Then he blurted
out, "I wish you had not said it, all the same."
"Why?"
"I cannot see it as you see it, and besides, you put a doubt in my mind
that I never wish to feel.
Pages:
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151