Their toupé is surprising! To hear this one talk one would think she
ruled all the politics of the allies, and directed each General.
* * * * *
Are men fools?--Yes, imbeciles--they cannot see the wiles of woman.
Perhaps I could not when I was a human male whom they could love!
Love?--did I say love?
Is there such a thing?--or is it only a sex excitement for the
moment!--That at all events is the sum of what these creatures know.
Do they ever think?--I mean beyond planning some fresh adventure for
themselves, or how to secure some fresh benefit.
I cannot now understand how a man ever marries one of them, gives his
name and his honour into such precarious keeping. Once I suppose I
should have been as easy a prey as the rest. But not now--I have too
much time to think, I fear. I seem to find some ulterior motive in
whatever people say or do.
To-day another American lunched with me, a bright girl, an heiress of the
breezy, jolly kind, a good sort before the war, whom I danced with
often. She told me quite naturally that she had a German prisoner's
thigh bone being polished into an umbrella handle--She had assisted at
the amputation--and the man had afterwards died--"A really cute
souvenir," she assured me it was going to be!
Are we all mad--?
No wonder the finest and best "go West."--Will they come again, souls of
a new race, when all these putrid beings have become extinguished by
time? I hope so to God....
These French women enjoy their crepe veils--and their high-heeled shoes,
and their short black skirts, even a cousin is near enough for the
trappings of woe.--Can any of us feel woe now?--I think not....
Maurice has his uses--Were I a man once more I should despise
Maurice--He is so good a creature, such a devoted hanger on of the very
rich--and faithful too. Does he not pander to my every fancy, and
procure me whatever I momentarily desire?
How much better if I had been killed outright! I loathe myself and all
the world.
* * * * *
Once--before the war--the doing up of this flat caused me raptures. To
get it quite English--in Paris! Every antiquaire in London had
exploited me to his heart's content. I paid for it through the nose, but
each bit is a gem. I am not quite sure now what I meant to do with it
when finished, occupy it when I did come to Paris--lend it to
friends?--I don't remember--Now it seems a sepulchre where I can retire
my maimed body to and wait for the end.