Free Katerina's Secret by Mary Jane Staples

Dupont, was as vivacious as Rosamund was stately. Her conversation was about Paris and the theatre, and Edward’s genuine interest was a stimulation to her. She had mobile features, her good looks a smooth ripple of activity, her teeth a repetitive flash of white between carmined lips. Rosamund made no attempt to intercede. She seemed amused by the Parisian woman’s flowing monologues, all directed into Edward’s ear. Everyone liked Edward. Everyone used him as a confidant. He was a kind listener. And he would have been a handsome man had his face not been so ravaged by strain and pain.
    â€˜The theatre,’ said Mademoiselle Dupont, ‘is more true to life than life itself, if you agree that life itself is people. In the theatre, all emotions play their part. In life, many emotions are repressed, for people generally behave not as they feel, but as they wish other peopleto see them. Calmness is used to hide rage, sweetness to hide malice, respectability to hide desire. Don’t you agree, Monsieur Somers, that we all behave at times in a way that is a falsification of our true emotions? When one wants to scream with temper, one thinks of people regarding us in shock and horror, and so most of us, instead of screaming, go no further than looking offended.’
    â€˜It’s an exercise in self-control, isn’t it?’ suggested Edward.
    Mademoiselle Dupont’s shapely round mouth opened, and she laughed.
    â€˜Ah, you see, you are English, and use self-control to hide all your emotions.’
    â€˜One can’t go around baring one’s teeth and frightening little girls and small dogs,’ said Edward.
    â€˜Without civilized self-control,’ said Rosamund, ‘we should create a jungle.’
    â€˜But it’s strange, isn’t it,’ said Mademoiselle Dupont, ‘that people go to the theatre to absorb themselves in Molière’s gift for emotionalizing life? Isn’t it true that the English are passionately devoted to Shakespeare, whose plays are about treachery, murder, anger, revenge, love, hate and jealousy? Think of
Othello
and the sublimity of extreme, emotional jealousy.’
    â€˜I’ve never thought of extreme, emotional jealousy as being sublime,’ said Rosamund. ‘I’m sure jealousy should be repressed, not indulged. Didn’t Shakespeare teach us the lesson of Iago’s indulgence?’
    â€˜But how fascinating are people and their emotions,’ said Mademoiselle Dupont, ‘how fascinating that it is only the theatre which brings to life our darkest and most devious feelings.’ She elaborated on the theme. Rosamund, sensing eyes on her back, looked round. Celeste stood at the open French windows of the lounge, and there was a perceptible frown on her face as she watched the lady from Paris monopolizing Edward’s ear.
    The dear child is jealous, thought Rosamund. I must tactfully hint to Mademoiselle Dupont that Edward is regarded by Celeste as hers alone.
    â€˜If you two will excuse me,’ she said, ‘I shall go for a little walk, a short constitutional.’ She rose to her feet and put up her parasol.
    â€˜Yes, do go, Rosamund,’ said Edward. ‘You may, with luck, bump into Franz Brecht.’
    â€˜I’m flushed with hope at the prospect,’ said Rosamund. ‘So nice to have talked with you,Mademoiselle Dupont. If you’re here long enough, perhaps we may enjoy many conversations.’
    â€˜I’m not sure how long I shall stay,’ smiled Mademoiselle Dupont. ‘A week, perhaps, or two. It will depend on Paris. But it’s so enchanting here that I’m tempted to stay indefinitely.’
    â€˜How nice,’ said Rosamund and sailed away, a blue dress gracing her handsome figure. She smiled as Celeste approached.
    â€˜Take care, my dear,’ she murmured, ‘Mademoiselle Dupont is already beginning to smother him.’
    â€˜Oh, what is she up