Читать книгу The Principles and Practices of Seduction - Emily Hahn - Страница 3

Table of Contents

TYPE:

Well-to-do man with slightly artistic tendencies; the sort that believes first in money, then in full enjoyment of it. His philosophy is practical but not too limited to material considerations; in other words, he talks well on almost any subject.

SUBJECT:

Slightly younger, but of the same breed. The families of the two protagonists have probably been friendly for two generations.

APPARATUS:

A restaurant: one of the more leisurely ones where the dishes do not rattle but an orchestra makes conversation just as difficult.

REMARKS:

The keynote of the approach is a tacit appreciation of intelligence on the part of the subject. This sympathetic attitude is very important. Think it all over carefully, put a flower in your buttonhole and go ahead.

I THINK YOU HAVE A GREAT CAPACITY FOR LIVING

You have reached the coffee and are putting up a brave fight against the orchestra before going out into the privacy of the street.

She: And we didn’t get home, after all, until two o’clock. I was so angry: it spoiled the evening.

You: Angry! I don’t think that you could ever be angry.

She: Oh, yes, you don’t know me at all. I have a dreadful temper.

You: Well, it doesn’t somehow fit in with my idea of you, you see. No, I must disagree with you. You haven’t a temper. It’s impossible for you to have a really earthly emotion.

She (somewhat irritated): Why, how can you say such a thing?

You: You’re a strangely aloof child, you know.

She (after a pleased little silence): That’s not nice of you.

You: Why not? It’s so nice of you, you know.

She: Oh, do you really think so? I’m sure I don’t try to be. No. … (with a charming smile)—you’re quite wrong. It’s the rest of them that are different. I’m really very normal.

You: Normal? Oh, my dear! And yet, after all, it’s not very funny. Perhaps it’s a tragedy.

She: What is?

You: Your attitude toward life.

She: Why, I have no attitude!

You: There you are; that’s just it. Someone of us mortals tries to tell you how we—how flesh-and-blood beings react to you, and you simply open those clear eyes of yours, and—well, how can I go on talking in the face of such bland ignorance?

She: Ignorance! Why I don’t. …

You: Oh, surely you know how ignorant you are? You must remain ignorant with deliberation. It’s part of your charm, of course, but … oh, how charming you could be, in another way!

She: Really. … (suddenly her voice warms and she leans a little over the table, talking eagerly) No, you’re perfectly right. I mean from your viewpoint, of course. One thing that you forget, though, is that I don’t feel the way that you and the rest of them do. I can’t really understand it myself, and yet … oh, all that sort of thing; emotion and all that; seems so … so messy.

You: Messy? My dear child, what sort of people can you have known?

She: Perfectly normal people, I assure you. No, it’s my own fault. It’s me, and I can’t help it. Emotion to me has always seemed—no thank you, just demi-tasse—seemed common. Not aristocratic. That’s rather a snide thing to say, isn’t it? I don’t mean to sound that way.

You: I know you don’t. (The music plays without competition for a moment). But how sad!

She: Sad? Oh no. I get along quite well. I’m really very happy, except once in a while. I’m as happy, that is, as you can possibly be for all your—your normality.

You: But what a strange way for an intelligent person like yourself to think! Have you no curiosity?

She: Oh, certainly. To an extent. But when curiosity conflicts with one’s disgusts. …

You: Disgusts? Now you are certainly wrong. It gives you away.

She: Yes, that was a silly thing to say.

You: Don’t you think that you allow your mind to rule you too much? It’s really dangerous. I mean it. Surely your intelligence tells you that a well-rounded personality. …

She: But I told you; I don’t want to experiment!

You: I can’t believe that you are in a position to judge. You don’t really know what you want; you don’t know what to want. I don’t believe you for a minute when you say you are happy. Lovely, yes; but lovely in a melancholy way. How can you know about yourself, you wise child? Tell me, are you always so serene?

She: You’re getting much too serious. Let’s dance.

You: I don’t want to dance with you just now. I think you’re trying to run away from me as you have always run away from questions. Do you know, you’re a most deceptive person. When I met you, I said to myself, “She is sensitive,” but I never thought of you as being beautiful. I’m being frank, do you mind? But I see now that you are. I see that you are rarely beautiful, but that you do not wish to be. Isn’t that true?

She: Why no, of course not. I don’t understand it all.

You: It’s just this, and I don’t care whether or not I offend you. In fact, I hope I do. Someone ought to offend you now and then. You’re committing a crime, not only against us but against yourself. If I had my way—and I’m not being selfish, either—

She (blazing): As though any of you weren’t selfish!

You: What?

She: I’m so tired of it all. Don’t you think I hear something like this every day of my life? All of you working for yourselves, arguing for yourselves, talking eternally about the same thing. I can’t stand any more of it. I’m sick of it.

You (gravely): I beg your pardon, but you’re not being quite polite, are you? You’re a bit unjust.

She: Perhaps I’m rather excited. Sorry.

You: Perhaps not. This is the result of a long silence, isn’t it? You have never spoken like this before?

She: Yes, that’s it.

You (leaning forward): My dear, if I’ve said anything. …

She (faintly): No, it’s nothing. Tell me, how can you—all of you—be so cold blooded and unfastidious at the same time?

You: Oh, but you are wrong. I’m sure that as a rule we are more fastidious than you could possibly know. I’m sorry that I’ve disturbed you—Check, please! I’m going to take you home.

She: No, I was foolish. You’re right. I’m sure you’re right. But I couldn’t help it. Have I hurt you?

You: Let’s forget it all. Let’s go somewhere and talk about other things. (You rise and start to the door.) I didn’t want to spoil the evening, much as you seemed to think so. Should we go to my place and look at the print I just bought? It’s so early to take you home.

She: Yes, that would be nice.

You: There, you see; I’ve done you an injustice. You’re quite human underneath it all. Probably someone has hurt you, and you won’t tell me about it. I think, my dear, that you have a very great capacity for living. Let’s take one with the top down. TAXI!!