Free The Enchantment of Lily Dahl by Siri Hustvedt

stupid?”
    “I found out, my dear.”
    Lily opened her mouth at Mabel. “Were you in love a lot?”
    “I was always in love.”
    Lily laughed. She looked at the manuscript. “Is it in the book?”
    “Yes.”
    “Will you let me read it sometime?”
    “If you’re very good,” Mabel said.
    “Last night,” Lily said. “Did he see you looking at him?”
    “Which one?”
    “Either one,” Lily said.
    Mabel smiled. “Why?”
    “I don’t know, just because.”
    Mabel laughed. “Because why?” she said. Mabel laughed more, and when she laughed, she wrinkled her nose and her eyes looked very small.
    Lily laughed, too.
    “Why are we laughing?” Mabel choked out the words.
    “Because why,” Lily said and laughed harder.
    Mabel laughed until she coughed and gasped.
    Lily stood up and pounded Mabel on the back. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine. It depresses me to think this old carcass can’t even stand up to a good joke. It’s pathetic.”
    “It wasn’t good. It wasn’t even funny,” Lily said.
    “Oh, it was funny. We just don’t know why it was funny.” Mabel moved her eyebrows up and down.
    “Don’t start that again,” Lily said.
    The two remained silent for about a minute. It would have seemed overlong had they not laughed so hard together, but Lily liked that pause. The room was warm, and the heat seemed to make Mabel’s perfume stronger. Its sweet smell mingled with the dust, and the sun shone through the open curtains onto the coffee table. She concluded that Edward Shapiro had gone to the window to look for her, and this made her glad.
    Lily heard a sound, looked over and saw that Mabel had slumped down in her chair. Lily leaned toward her. The woman’s eyelids fluttered. She gasped and looked wildly around her. Her hands trembled. “Help me!”
    “My God, Mabel!” Lily grabbed the woman’s shoulders. “What’s the matter?”
    “Lysander, help me!” Mabel cried. “Do thy best.”
    Lily let go of the woman’s shoulders. “Jesus, Mabel. You scared me to death!”
    Mabel straightened up in the chair and adjusted her blouse, which had slid up around her waist. She pressed one lock of hair behind her ear, and then with an expression both prim and satisfied, she said, “Good, now you scare me to death.”
    *   *   *
    Lily looked up at the roof of the Arts Guild and added a steeple where there wasn’t one. The real steeple had been missing for as long as she could remember. Maybe it had been blown off in a tornado, or maybe someone had decided that acting and actors did not belong in a building that looked like a house of God even if it wasn’t, and had hacked off the spire along with its cross. Running up the steps, Lily heard talking, hammering and laughter coming through the open doors. Then someone shouted, “Quiet,” and the noise stopped. In the vestibule Lily looked toward the stage and saw Martin Petersen sitting under a spotlight that turned his blond hair white and erased the color of his eyes. He looks happy, she thought, happy to be the center of attention even for a moment. Then Martin noticed her and his expression changed. He stared hard at her for several seconds and then nodded, as if she should know what he meant by this, as if they had some secret understanding, but Lily ignored him and looked away. “Thanks, Martin,” someone yelled from behind her. The spot switched off, and the room returned to ordinary, dull brightness.
    The place was hot, and even with all the windows open, the heat weighed on the cast. Amy Voegele lost a tooth and was so excited, rehearsal was delayed for several minutes while everybody ran around looking for a container the girl would accept. In the first scene, Lily noticed that Mr. Dugan had poison ivy all over his legs and had smeared the welts with calamine lotion, stiffening the long hairs on his calves into a pink forest. When Jim spoke Lysander’s lines and held Lily’s hand, she saw large sweat spots under the arms of his