The covenant - James A. Michener [415]
Both the steamship management and young Saltwood deemed it best to inform Mr. Rhodes of this strange development, and he guffawed at their apprehensions. 'I like grandes dames like that. I talk to them roughly, introducing more profanity with each turn of the conversation. After a while they leave me alone.'
Frank had a premonition that this cavalier treatment might not succeed with royalty as determined as the Princess Radziwill, and he boarded the Union Line ship with trepidation, which was justified a few hours later at the evening meal. He cautioned Mr. Rhodes: 'We'll go in late, after she's chosen her table,' and they did so, but as they entered the salon Frank caught a glimpse of a lady in black waiting in the shadows, and no sooner had Mr. Rhodes taken his table, one with spare chairs so that he might entertain business acquaintances during the long voyage, than Princess Radziwill swept into the room, crying in a soft, ladylike voice, 'Oh, dear! Where shall I sit?'
Ignoring the chief steward, who hurried up to assist her, she let her hand fall upon one of the chairs at Rhodes' table and asked gently, 'Does this happen to be vacant?'
Frank started to say brusquely, 'It's taken, ma'am,' but before he could complete the sentence Mr. Rhodes said gallantly, but with obvious reluctance, 'It seems to be free, madam,' at which she seated herself with great firmness, indicating that this would be her place for the duration of the voyage.
She was an enchanting woman, much younger in spirit than her years, informed on everything and willing to deliver final judgments on politicians, writers, musicians and the state of the world. When Mr. Rhodes attempted to stifle her with his routine profanity, she responded with animated discussions of her digestive system, her bowel movements and episodes in her sex life. Very quickly Mr. Rhodes retreated to more casual conversation.
From the first she demonstrated an intense dislike of Frank Salt-wood, assessing him accurately as a bar to whatever designs she might have on Mr. Rhodes. She scorned any statement he made, ridiculed his Oxford insularity and lampooned his general deportment. Specifically she wanted to know why he wasn't married, and when he tried to counter with questions about her own status, she deflated him with a forthright statement: 'I am the daughter of a great Polish nobleman, but my father and I have always considered ourselves Russians first, Poles second. I am married to a Radziwill, one of the proudest Polish names, but he has treated me abominably, and I am soon to be divorced from him. I am forty-one years old.'
She intimated that she was also a famous authoress: 'Five well-regarded books.'
When he made inquiries among the other passengers, he found that she was indeed a distinguished writer on political subjects and that she knew everyone in European society. Sensing that he doubted her statement about her writing, she appeared one noontime in the promenade cafe with two of her books, solid affairs dealing with European court life and its political intrigues. When she saw that Frank and, indirectly, Mr. Rhodes were sufficiently impressed, she said casually, 'You know, of course, that my aunt, Evelina Rzewuska, was the wife and financial salvation of Honore de Balzac'
'Who was he?' asked a young man from Kimberley who had recently been invited to join the Rhodes circle.
'Oh, my God!' she screamed so loudly that people at other tables turned to look. This pleased her, and she appealed to them: 'This young fool asks me who Honore de Balzac was. It's like asking an Englishman who William Shakespeare was.' And with this she launched upon a recitation, with wild gestures, of the entire sonnet:
'When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past . . .'
When