The Rival Pins
“What little beasts women are!”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, they have played me a dirty trick.”
“You?”
“Yes, me.”
“Women have, or a woman has?”
“Two women.”
“Both at the same time?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
The two young men were sitting in front of one of the big cafés on the Boulevard drinking liqueurs mixed with water, the kind of drink that looks like a medley of watercolour paints.
They were about the same age—twenty-five to thirty—and had the smartish air of stockjobbers, of men who frequent the Stock Exchange and the drawing room, who go everywhere, who live everywhere and who make love wherever they go. The dark one said:
“I have told you about my intimacy, haven’t I, with the little bourgeoise I met on the beach at Dieppe?”
“Yes. You have.”
“My dear fellow, you know what it is. I had a mistress in Paris whom I love deeply, an old friend, a good friend, to be with her has become a habit that I don’t want to give up.”
“Is it the habit you don’t want to give up?”
“Yes, the habit, and, of course, I don’t want to give her up either. She is married to a nice chap. I like him too, he is a genial fellow, a real friend. In short, my life is centred in their home.”
“Well then?”
“Well! as they could not leave Paris I was a widower at Dieppe.”
“Why did you go to Dieppe?”
“For change of air. You can’t spend all your life on the boulevards.”
“Well?”
“Then I met the little woman I have already mentioned, on the beach.”
“The civil servant’s wife?”
“Yes, she was awfully bored. Her husband only came down on Sundays and he is horrible. I understand her perfectly. So we laughed and danced together.”
“And the rest?”
“Yes, later on. Well, we met and we liked each other. When I told her I liked her she made me say it again so as to be quite sure, and she put no obstacles in my way.
“Did you love her?”
“Yes, a little; she is very nice.”
“And the other one?”
“She was in Paris! Well, for six weeks all went very well and we came back here the best of friends. Do you know how to break with a woman when there is not a single thing against her so far as you are concerned?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“How do you manage it?”
“I give her up.”
“But how do you set about it?”
“I don’t go to see her.”
“But what if she comes to see you?”
“Oh, well … I am not at home.”
“And if she comes back?”
“I say I am ill.”
“And if she looks after you?”
“Then I play her a dirty trick.”
“And if she puts up with it?”
“I write anonymous letters to her husband telling him to look after her the days that I expect her.”
“That’s serious! As for me, I have no power of resistance. I cannot break with women, I collect them. Some I only see once a year, others every ten months, others on quarter-day, others when they want to dine out. Those who have their settled days are no bother, but I often have difficulty in placing new ones.”
“Well, then …”
“Then, old chap, the civil-service lady was all in a blaze, nothing to blame her about, as I have already said! As her husband spent the whole day at the office she had nothing better to do than to come unexpectedly to see me. Twice she just missed my lady of ‘habit.’ ”
“The devil.”
“Yes. So I gave each one her day, to avoid confusion. Mondays and Saturdays to my ‘habit,’ Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday to the new one.”
“Why this favouritism?”
“Well, old chap, she is the younger.”
“That only gave you two rest-days in the week.”
“That was enough.”
“My congratulations!”
“But, just fancy, the most ridiculous and aggravating thing in the world happened. For four months everything worked perfectly: I slept peacefully and was really happy, when suddenly, last Monday, the crash came.
“Smoking a good cigar, I was expecting my ‘habit’ at the usual time, a quarter past one, I was daydreaming, very pleased with myself, when I noticed that it was past the time. I was surprised, as she is always so punctual, but thought there had been some accidental delay. However, half an hour went by, then an hour, an hour and a half, and I was sure something had detained her, a headache perhaps, or an unexpected visitor. This waiting about is very trying … quite useless, very annoying and enervating. At last I resigned myself to the inevitable and, not knowing what to do, went to see her.
“I found her reading a novel.
“ ‘Well,’ I said.
“ ‘I could not come, old fellow, I was prevented,’ she said tranquilly.
“ ‘What prevented you?’
“ ‘Oh … other things.’
“ ‘But … what other things?’
“ ‘A tiresome visitor.’
“I thought she did not want to tell me the real reason and as she was quite calm about it I did not feel any uneasiness. I reckoned on making up for lost time, the next day, with the other one.
“Therefore on Tuesday I was very … very excited, feeling very much in love in expectation of the lady’s visit, and even surprised that she
