The Doll Read Online Free PDF Page A

face, trample on its sordid human body. Was Rebecca mad to keep such a toy, what was her motive, where had she found it? But she would not answer my questions.
    ‘Come away,’ she said, and dragged me from the room, back once more into the hard glaring light of the bare studio. ‘You must go now,’ she said breathlessly, ‘it’s late – I had forgotten.’ I tried to take hold of her, once more, I wanted to kiss her again and again, she surely did not mean me to go now.
    ‘Tomorrow,’ she said impatiently, ‘I promise you tomorrow, but not at the moment. I’m tired and bewildered – don’t you see? Let me alone just for tonight, it’s been too strong, I can’t realise anything.’
    She stamped her foot with impatience, she looked ill. I saw it was hopeless. I took my things and went – and walked, and walked – all night I think.
    I watched the dawn break on Hampstead Heath, grey and sunless; heavy rain fell from a leaden sky.
    My body was cold, but my brain was on fire. Once more I was certain that Rebecca had lied to me – from the moment she kissed me I knew that she had lied to me.
    She had known five, ten, what matter the number, twenty lovers – and I was not one of them.
    No, I was not one of them.
    I found myself near Camden Town, buses rumbled along the streets; it was still raining, people straggled past me, their figures bent under umbrellas.
    I found a taxi somewhere, and went home. I got into bed without undressing, and slept. I slept for hours. When I awoke it was dark once more; it must have been about six in the evening. I remember washing mechanically, and then once more walking in the direction of Bloomsbury.
    I reached the flat and rang at her bell.
    She let me in without a word, and then sat down in the studio before the oil stove. I told her I was going to be her lover. She said nothing. There were red rims under her eyes as if she had been crying, and thin lines round her mouth. I bent towards her to kiss her, but she pushed me away.
    She began to speak rapidly.
    ‘You must forget what happened last night. Today I realise I made a mistake. I’m not well, I haven’t slept. All this has worried me considerably. You must leave me alone.’
    I tried to seize her, and break down her iron restraint. It was like hammering at an iron wall. She lay cold and still in my arms. Her mouth was icy. I left her in despair. Then followed a week of doubt and torture. Sometimes she sat apart from me without a word, sometimes I could have sworn that she loved me. And she would not let me touch her, she was not in the mood she said. I must wait until she wanted me again. I must wait in suspense, in agony. She never mentioned Julio. We never went into that room again. I asked her what she had done with him. I wanted to know what was at the back of it all. She would answer evasively and change the subject. It was useless to press her. She was maddening. She was intolerable.
    And yet I could not keep away from her. I could not live without her.
    One evening she would be gentle and affectionate. She would sit at my feet and talk about her music, about her future plans. She was always changing. She was never the same.
    I felt hopeless. My position was ridiculous – but what was I to do? She had become a madness to me – an obsession.
    I’ve now come to the last evening, the very last. Then crash – blankness – the depths of hell – and desolation – utter desolation.
    Let me get it clear – when was it, what time was it? Seven, eight perhaps. I can’t remember. I was leaving the flat and she came to the door with me.
    She suddenly put her arms round me and kissed me.... There have been men in arid deserts where the sun has so disfigured them that they have become things of horror – parched and blackened, twisted and torn. Their eyes run blood, their tongues are bitten through – and then they come upon water.
    I know, because I was one of their number.
    Laugh at all these comparisons, call me a