Segalovitch?" "Oh, pshaw! I had
forgotten all about her. I mean Madame Kiesmer," I said,
self-consciously
Somehow, my love for the actress did not interfere with my
longing thoughts of Matilda. I asked myself no questions
And so we went on loving jointly, Jake and I, the companionship
of our passion apparently stimulating our romance as
companionship at a meal stimulates the appetite of the diners.
Each of us seemed to be infatuated with Madame Klesmer. Yet
the community of this feeling, far from arousing mutual jealousy
in us, seemed to strengthen the ties of our friendship
We would hum her songs in duet, recite her lines, compare notes
on our dreams of happiness with her. One day we composed a
love-letter to her, a long epistle full of Biblical and homespun
poetry, which we copied jointly, his lines alternating with mine,
and which we signed: "Your two lovelorn slaves whose hearts are
panting for a look of your star-like eyes. Jacob and David." We
mailed the letter without affixing any address
The next evening we were in the theater, and when she appeared
on the stage and shot a glance to the gallery Jake nudged me
violently
"But she does not know we are in the gallery," I argued.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264