The Portrait of Mrs Charbuque Read Online Free PDF Page B

off the foyer, the one of the sea captain smok-ing the pipe, where did you acquire it?"
    "Watkin purchased it somewhere. I also have one of your grandfather Piambotto's landscapes upstairs. Something with cattle in a meadow drenched in morning light."
    "You know a few things about me," I said, not sure I liked the idea of it.
    "I'm a thorough woman, Mr. Piambo. I know every-thing about you."
    It was only that evening, while I sat in the balcony of Palmer's Theatre watching Samantha perform in a newly written version of the old tale of
    A Ghost's Amnesia, that the absurdity of what I had earlier agreed to do struck me with all its import. I smiled, realizing that a healthy sense of humor would advance me further with this commission than any other quality. "And what was that business about Watkin punishing me?" I wondered. Mrs. Charbuque was willing to have me dealt grave damage rather than have me see her? I wanted to contemplate this aspect of things a bit more, but my thoughts were shattered when, up on the stage, a masked Samantha suddenly screamed at the touch of an invisible entity that had long forgotten the beauty of life.
    Later on that evening, I lay in bed next to my love. A scented candle she had given me as a gift that night burned in its holder on the dresser. We had gone to Delmonico's for drinks after the performance.
    The wine we had consumed and a lazy round of lovemaking finally helped me shake off the pervasive sense of uneasiness that my meeting with Mrs. Charbuque had engendered. I found security in the fact that Samantha was as direct a woman as my patron was mysterious. It was not that Samantha didn't possess her share of female mystique, but she was also unwaveringly Page 13

    practi-cal and forthright—very much her own person. These traits no doubt had allowed our relationship to continue over many years without her demanding that we marry. If truth be told, she was as devoted to her stagecraft as I was to painting, and this was perhaps the thing I loved most about her.
    "How did you like the show this evening?" she asked.
    "Marvelous," I said. "You were wonderful."
    "The aging actress isn't a part that took much prepara-tion," she said. "But I thought the ghost was terrible. Who ever heard of a fat ghost?"
    "He was more like a butcher who had fallen into a sack of flour. No Edwin Booth, to be sure.
    He recited his lines like a dunce learning to read."
    She laughed. "That is the theater owner's nephew," she said. "Derim Lourde is his name. The writer wanted to strangle him when the show was over."
    "Well," I said, "his character was supposed to have for-gotten about life."
    "The only problem," said Samantha, "is that he never quite convinces one that he has ever lived at all."
    "I don't think the audience cared," I told her. "They applauded thunderously, especially for you."
    "Piambo, you are my favorite critic," she said, and leaned over to kiss me. "And now, what of your day?"
    I was hesitant at first to divulge the details of my meeting with Mrs. Charbuque, but eventually I decided I would have to tell someone. This was not the type of thing I was capable of keeping a secret until its closure. I gave her the entire story, from my meeting with Watkin to that afternoon's interview.
    She laughed when I was finished, and said, "There is more insanity in this city than in the entire rest of the world. How are you supposed to accomplish that?"
    "I don't know," I said, "but I thought you might give me some questions to ask that would lay bare her likeness to me through her words."
    Samantha was quiet for a time and then said, "Why are you bothering with this parlor game?"
    "It is a challenge," I said, "and besides, with what I earn from it, I will be able to escape the economics of por-traiture and paint something unique."
    "So, you are in blind pursuit of wealth in order to avoid pursuing wealth?" she asked.
    "Something like that," I said.
    "I understand," she said. "I've been getting too many parts