A Woman of Fifty by W. Somerset Maugham | Full Audiobook | Classic Short Story | English Audio Book

[00:00:01]A woman of 50 by Somerset Mo.

[00:00:08]My friend Wyman Halt was a professor of English literature at a small university in the [music] Midwest. When he heard I was going to give a talk in a nearby city, a relatively close distance in the vastness of America, he asked if I could write and address it to his class. He offered me a few days to stay with him so he could show me around. I accepted, but explained that my schedule prevented me from staying more than two nights. He met me at the station, drove me to his home, and after a couple of drinks, we walked to campus. I was somewhat surprised by the crowd in the hall where I was to speak. I had expected no more than 20 people, and was prepared for an informal conversation, not a serious lecture. Seeing middle-aged and elderly people among them, whom I assumed were members of the university committee, intimidated me somewhat, I feared they would find what I had to say far too superficial. But there was no alternative.

[00:01:11]After Wyman introduced me with praise I could never have deserved, I began. I said what I had to say, answered questions as best I could, and then Wyman and I went into a small room backstage. A few people entered. They exchanged the usual polite words, as is customary in such situations, and I gave my usual courteous replies. My mouth and throat were parched, and I longed for something to drink. Then a woman entered and extended her hand. "It's so good to see you again," she said. "It's been years since our last meeting." As far as I could remember, it was the first time I had ever seen her. I forced a sincere smile onto my tired, stiff lips, warmly shook the hand she offered, and thought to myself, "Who is this devil?" "My professor friend must have understood from my expression that I was trained to remember her, for he interjected, and Mrs. Green is the wife of one of our university faculty members. She teaches Renaissance and Italian literature."

[00:02:18]"Really?" I said very interesting, but still not the slightest spark had ignited in my mind. Did Wyman say he's having dinner with us tomorrow evening?

[00:02:30]I'd be very pleased, I said. It wasn't a big party, just my husband, his brother, and my sister-in-law. Florence must have changed a lot since then. I muttered to myself. Florence? So that's where we met. She was a woman in her 50s, with her hair simply combed and styled in an understated Marcel wave. She was a little plump, neatly, tidily, but casually dressed. It wasn't hard to guess that her dress had been bought readymade at the local branch of a large department store. She had pale blue, rather large eyes and a lifeless complexion. She wore no blush, and her lipstick was quite subtle. She seemed like a kind woman. There was a maternal, calm, and peaceful quality to her demeanor that captivated me. We must have met during one of my frequent visits to Florence. Perhaps it was her only trip to Florence, and the encounter had left a much deeper impression on her than on me. I must confess that my acquaintance with the wives of university professors is quite limited, but she was exactly the kind of wife I would expect from a professor. Imagining her modest, productive but uneventful life, her small social gatherings, her squables, her gossip, and that bustling monotony, I could easily understand why the Florence trip remained in her mind as an exciting and unforgettable memory.

[00:03:57]On the way home, Wyman said, "You're like Jasper Green. He's very intelligent." Professor of what? Not a professor, a lecturer, a good academic.

[00:04:07]Jasper is her second husband. She was previously married to an Italian.

[00:04:12]Really? That didn't fit the picture in my head at all. What's his name? I have no idea. I suspect it wasn't a very successful marriage. Wyman chuckled.

[00:04:24]That's just a conclusion I've drawn from the fact that there's not a single thing in his house to indicate he lived in Italy. I'd at least expect to see a monastery table, a couple of old chests, or an embroidered lurggical cloak hanging on the wall. I laughed. I knew those somber pieces that people bought when they went to Italy, gilded wooden candalabbras, Venetian mirrors, and highbacked extremely uncomfortable chairs. They look appealing in the crowded hustle and bustle of antique shops, but they're usually a huge disappointment when you take them to another country. Even when they aren't imitations, they look awkward and crooked in their new surroundings.

[00:05:06]Wyman continued, "Laura has money. When they got married, she redecorated their Chicago home from the basement to the attic. It's a complete cautionary tale, a small masterpiece of ugliness and tastelessness.

[00:05:22]Every time I enter the living room, I marvel at the unering tastelessness in her precise selection of things you'd expect to find in a honeymoon suite at a second rate hotel in Atlantic City.

[00:05:36]To illustrate this sarcasm, I should mention that Wyman's living room consisted entirely of chrome and glass, coarse modern fabrics, a distinctly cubist rug on the floor, and Picasso prints and chilikf drawings on the walls. Still, he treated me to a very nice dinner. We spent the evening enjoying conversation about our shared interests, and ended it with a few bottles of beer. I lay down in bed in my room, furnished with a somewhat aggressive modernity. After reading for a while, I turned off the light and drifted off to sleep. I thought to myself, "Lora, Laura, what?" I said, I tried to recall the past. I hoped to find through association where and when I had met Mrs. Green, passing before my eyes all the people I knew in Florence. I wanted to remember something that would prove I hadn't forgotten her since I was going to have dinner with her the following evening. People take it as disrespect when you don't remember them. I think we all attribute a certain importance to ourselves and it's humiliating to realize we've left no trace on the people we've spent time with. I drifted off to sleep. But I think just before I reached that sacred piece of deep sleep, my subconscious, freed from the effort of remembering, sprang into action, and suddenly my eyes widened, for I remembered who Laura Green was. It wasn't surprising that I'd forgotten her. 25 years had passed since I'd last seen her, and even then we'd only met by chance during a month I spent in Florence. It was right after the First World War. She was engaged to a man who died in the war. She and her mother had somehow managed to get to France to visit his grave. They were from San Francisco. After completing this sorrowful task, they landed in Italy and spent the winter in Florence. At that time there was a fairly large British and American colony there. My friend Colonel Harding who held the rank of colonel due to his important role in the Red Cross and his wife had a beautiful villa on Via Bolognesei and they had invited me to stay with them. I spent most of my mornings visiting historical sites and around midday I'd meet my friends at the Dhi Cafe on Via Tornobi for drinks. Dhoni was a place where everyone gathered, where gossip circulated. Lunch was usually eaten in beautiful old villas with gardens a mile or two from the city center or in a restaurant. I had a Florence Club membership card. In the afternoons, Charlie Harding and I would go there and play bridge or a dangerous game of 32 card poker. In the evenings, there were dinner parties, perhaps a little more bridge and often dancing. Although you encountered the same people every time, the group was large and colorful enough that it wasn't boring. As it should be in Florence, everyone had some interest in the arts, so life, however idle it might seem, wasn't entirely empty. Laura and her widowed mother, Mrs. Clayton, stayed in one of the good boarding houses. They seemed quite well off. They had come to Florence with letters of recommendation, and had quickly made many friends. Laura's story had won people's sympathy, so everyone did their best for these two women. But they themselves were also extremely charming and quickly endeared themselves to everyone. They were hospitable. They often hosted lunches in restaurants where pasta was eaten, the inevitable escalopes were consumed, and kei wine was drunk. Mrs. Clayton seemed somewhat lost in this cosmopolitan environment where subjects unknown to her were discussed with cheerfulness or seriousness. But Laura adapted to this life as if it were her natural habitat.

[00:09:35]She hired an Italian woman to teach her the language and soon began reading inferno with her. She devoured books on Renaissance art and Florentine history, and sometimes I would come across her carefully examining works of art in the Euphidzi or in a church with a Bedica guide in hand. She was about 24 or 25 at the time, and I was well over 40, so although we met frequently, we never went beyond being close acquaintances.

[00:10:04]She wasn't particularly beautiful, but she had an unusual charming appeal. She had dark hair parted in the middle, combed over her ears, and styled in a low bun at the nape of her neck, bright blue eyes, and an oval face. Her skin was beautiful, and her cheeks naturally rosy. Her features, though not striking, were regular, and her teeth were small, straight, and pearly white. But her greatest advantage was the effortless grace in her movements. I wasn't surprised when they said she danced extraordinarily well. She was very graceful, a little more plump than the fashion of the time. I thought what made her attractive was that strange mixture of the Virgin Mary depictions in the alterpieces of late Italian painters and a seductive air about her face. This undoubtedly made her extremely appealing to the Italian men who gathered at Dhoni in the mornings or were occasionally invited to dinners at American or English villas. She knew how to deal with the young lovers who pursued her.

[00:11:08]She was extremely amiable, kind, and friendly, yet maintained her distance.

[00:11:13]She immediately understood that they were all after an American heir who could save their family fortunes, and with a playful heir that I greatly admired, she subtly made them feel that she was far from wealthy. They sighed softly, and turned their eyes to more formidable targets in Dhi, their hunting ground. They continued to dance and flirt with her but abandoned their dreams of marriage. However, there was one young man who persisted. I knew him somewhat as he was one of the regular poker players at the club. I played occasionally myself. Winning was impossible and bored foreigners sometimes said that the Italians were united against us, but perhaps they simply knew the game better than we did.

[00:12:01]Laura's admirer, Tito de Sanpietro, was a bald and even reckless player. He often lost sums he couldn't possibly repay. That's not his real name, but I'll call him that because his family name is famous in Florentine history. He was a handsome young man, neither tall nor short, with a good face, fake black hair combed back and gleaming with pomade, olive pond skin, and classic features. He was poor and had an obscure job that didn't interfere with his amusements, but he was always impeccably dressed. No one knew exactly where he lived. Perhaps he resided in a rented room or in a relative's attic. The only thing left of his ancestors great fortune was a 16th century villa about 30 mi from the city. I had never seen the villa, but I had heard of its captivating beauty with its vast neglected gardens of cyprress and oak trees, overgrown boxwood hedges, terraces, artificial caves, and crumbling statues. His widowed father, the count, lived there alone, making his living from wine from his own vineyards and olive oil from his olive trees. I had never met him, as he rarely came to Florence, but Charlie Harding knew him quite well.

[00:13:18]A perfect example of an old school Tuscan gentleman, he had said. He's a man who served in diplomatic posts in his youth, seen the world. He has such a refined demeanor and air about him that even when he says hello, you feel as if he's bestowing a favor upon you. He's a superb speaker. Of course, he doesn't have a penny to his name. He squandered the little inheritance he had on gambling and women, but he carries his poverty with great dignity. He acts as if money is something so insignificant that he wouldn't even bother with it.

[00:13:53]How old is he? I asked. I'd say 50, but he's still the most handsome man I've ever met. Really? You describe him, Bessie. When he first arrived here, he caught it. Bessie, I was never sure how far it went. Don't be silly, Charlie.

[00:14:08]Mrs. Harding laughed. She looked at her husband with the gaze of a long married woman who was perfectly content. He's very attractive to women and he knows it, she said. He gives you the feeling that you're the only woman in the world when he talks to you, and that of course flatters your ego. But it's just a game, and a woman would have to be crazy to take him seriously. He's really handsome, tall, thin, and upright. He has big, moist, dark eyes, just like his son. His hair is snow white, but still very thick. The contrast of that whiteness with his bronzed, youthful face is truly breathtaking.

[00:14:45]He has a battered, somewhat weathered look, but at the same time such a noble bearing that it's truly incredibly romantic.

[00:14:55]And those moist, dark eyes are always self-erving, Charlie Harding said in a dry voice. and he'll never let Tito marry a girl who has no more money than Laura.

[00:15:08]The girl has about $5,000 a year of her own income, Bessie said, and she'll have that much more when her mother dies. Her mother could live another 30 years, and $5,000 a year wouldn't be enough to support a husband, a father, and two or three children, let alone restore a dilapidated villa with almost no furniture in it.

[00:15:30]I think the boy is madly in love with the girl. How old is he? I asked. 26.

[00:15:38]A few days later, Charlie recounted that when he returned home for lunch, because we were having lunch alone that day, he had met Mrs. Clayton on Vonabuni, and she had told him that he and Laura would be leaving that afternoon with Tito to meet her father and see the villa. "What do you think that means?" Bessie asked.

[00:15:59]I think Tito is taking Laura to her elderly father for a checkup. If he approves, he'll propose to her. But will he approve? Absolutely not. But Charlie was wrong. After the two women had been shown around the house, they were taken for a walk in the garden. Before she knew exactly how, Mrs. Clayton found herself walking alone with the old count on a path. She didn't speak Italian, but the count had served as an ataché in London, and his English was manageable.

[00:16:29]Your daughter is charming, Mrs. Clayton, he said. [clears throat] No wonder Tito is in love with her. Mrs. Clayton wasn't a fool, and she had guessed why the young man had invited them to see the ancestral villa. Young Italians are very sentimental. Laura is sensible enough not to take their interest too seriously. I was hoping your daughter wasn't entirely indifferent to my son. I have no reason to believe she likes him anymore than the other young men who dance with him, Mrs. Clayton replied coldly. I should mention from the outset that my daughter has a very modest income and will not receive more than this until I die. I will be honest with you. I own nothing in the world except this house and a few acres of land around it. My son could not afford to marry a penniless girl, but he is not a fortune hunter, and he truly loves your daughter. The count not only possessed noble manners, but also great charm, and Mrs. Clayton could not remain entirely indifferent to it.

[00:17:22]softening her tone somewhat, she said, "All that aside, in America we do not arrange our children's marriages ourselves. If Tito wants to marry her, let him propose to her, and if she is willing, she will probably accept. If I am not greatly mistaken, that is exactly what he is doing now. I wholeheartedly wish him success." They continued walking, and soon they saw two young people walking towards them, hand in hand. It was not hard to guess what was happening. Tito kissed Mrs. Clayton's hand and her father on both cheeks. Mrs. Clayton, father, Laura has agreed to be my wife. This engagement caused quite a stir in Florentine society, and many parties were held for the young couple.

[00:18:07]It was quite clear that Tito was head over heels in love, but Laura's feelings were not so obvious. The young man was handsome, admirable, lively, and cheerful. It was highly likely that she would love him, but Laura was not one to express her feelings. She remained, as usual, calm, affectionate, serious, but friendly and easy to talk to. I wondered how much the sight of his noble surname full of historical connotations, and the beautiful house, with its magnificent view and romantic garden, had influenced Laura's acceptance of Tito's proposal.

[00:18:43]In any case, there is no doubt that it was a love marriage for the boy's side, said Bessie Harding, speaking on the subject. As Mrs. Clayton told me, neither Tito nor his father showed the slightest curiosity to find out how much money Laura had. I'd bet a million dollars that they know everything the girl owns, down to the last penny, and have calculated exactly how much it's worth, Harding grumbled. You're a grumpy and unbearable man, darling, his wife replied. Harding grumbled again. Shortly afterward I left Florence. The wedding ceremony took place at the Harding's house. A large crowd attended. Meals were eaten. Champagne was drunk. Tito and his wife rented an apartment in Lano while the old count returned to his secluded villa in the hills. For 3 years I didn't go back to Florence, and when I did, I only stayed for a week. I stayed with the Hardings again. I asked about my old friends and then I remembered Laura and her mother. Mrs. Clayton has returned to San Francisco. Bessie said.

[00:19:48]Laura and Tito are living with the count in the villa. They're very happy. Are there any babies? No. Go on, said Harding. Bessie glanced at her husband.

[00:19:58]I can't even imagine why I lived with a man I hated so much for 30 years, she said. They gave up the apartment in Lano. Laura spent a lot of money fixing up the villa. It didn't even have a bathroom. She had central heating installed, and she had to buy a lot of furniture to make it liveable. Then Tito lost a small fortune playing poker, and poor Laura had to pay off the debts.

[00:20:21]Didn't he have a job? She wasn't very useful, and it was over anyway. What Bessie means is that he was fired, Harding interjected. Anyway, long story short, they thought it would be more economical to live in the villa, and Laura hoped it would keep Tito out of his mischief. She loves the garden and has turned it into a paradise. Tito adors it, and the old count has grown very fond of it. So, you see, everything went very well. You might be interested to know that Tito was in town last Thursday. Harding said he gambled like crazy, and I don't know how much he lost. Ah, Charlie, he promised Laura he would never gamble again. Where have you ever seen a gambler keep such a promise?

[00:21:08]It'll be like last time. He'll break down in tears, tell her he loves her so much, that it's a debt of honor, and that if he doesn't find the money, he'll shoot himself in the head, and Laura will pay him again without question. a weak-willed poor boy, but that's his only flaw. Unlike most Italian husbands, he is extremely faithful and very kind to his wife. She looked at Harding with a mischievous sternness. "I haven't yet found a perfect husband. If you're going to find one, hurry up, sweetheart, or it will be too late," Harding replied, grinning. "I left the Hardings and returned to London. I corresponded with Charlie Harding infrequently, and about a year later I received a letter from him. As usual, he described what he had been doing in the intervening time, mentioning that he had gone to Monte Catini for the spars, that he and Bessie had visited friends in Rome. He spoke of people I knew in Florence, so and so had bought a Bellini painting, and so and so had gone to America to divorce her husband. Then he continued, "You must have heard of the San Pietro. We were all shaken. We couldn't talk about anything else. Poor Laura is devastated and pregnant. The police are constantly questioning her, which certainly doesn't make things any easier. Of course, we took her with us." Tito is appearing before the judge in a month. I had no idea what all this meant. I immediately wrote to Harding and asked what was happening. He replied with a long letter. What he told me was terrible. I will convey these naked and brutal facts to you as briefly as I can. I learned these things partly from Hardin's letter and partly from what he and Bessie told me when I met them again 2 years later.

[00:22:58]The count and Laura had immediately taken a liking to each other. Tito, being as devoted to his father as he was to his wife, was pleased to see such a loving friendship develop between them so quickly. He was also pleased that the count had begun to come to Florence more often than before. They had an empty room in the apartment, and the count sometimes stayed with them for two or three nights. Together with Laura, they would go on bargain hunts in antique shops, buying old pieces to put in the villa. The count was a man of taste and knowledge. That once melancholic house, with its spacious rooms and marble floors, gradually lost its gloom, and became a warm home. Laura had a passion for gardening. Together with the count, she restored the garden to its former magnificent beauty. They would spend hours directing the workers who would bring the goods together and making plans. Laura didn't mind at all when they had to vacate the Florence apartment because of Tito's financial difficulties. She was already tired of Florentine society and wasn't unhappy about finally living in her ancestors magnificent house. Tito, on the other hand, loved city life, and this situation horrified him, but he couldn't complain since it was his own folly that necessitated cutting costs. Their car was still there, and while his father and Laura were busy, he amused himself with long drives. They tolerated it even though they knew he occasionally escaped to Florence to try his luck at the club.

[00:24:32]A year passed like this. Then, without knowing exactly why, a vague suspicion crept into his mind. There was nothing concrete. He simply felt an unsettling sensation that Laura no longer valued him as much as before. Sometimes he felt his father growing impatient with him.

[00:24:51]They seemed to have much to talk about, but he felt as if he were a child, expected to sit quietly without interrupting the adults conversations, being pushed out of the discussion. She was drawn to it. She had the feeling that his presence often disturbed them, and that they were more comfortable when he wasn't around. She knew of her father and his reputation, but the doubt that arose within her was so terrible that she refused to even think about it. Yet sometimes she would catch a glance between them that would leave her bewildered, a tender possessiveness in her father's eyes, and in Laura's a sensual satisfaction that if seen in others, would surely lead her to believe they were lovers. But he couldn't believe, he refused to believe that these two people he loved so much could have engaged in such a horrific, almost incestuous relationship. He knew the count couldn't resist flirting with women. It was perfectly natural that Laura had been captivated by his extraordinary charm, but the thought of these two being complicit was shameful.

[00:25:55]He was certain Laura didn't even realize that what she felt was more than the natural affection a young, happy woman might have for her father-in-law. Still, he thought it would be better not to be face to face with her father everyday, and suggested they return to Florence one day. Laura and the count were surprised by such a suggestion, and didn't even want to hear it. Laura said that after spending so much money on the villa, she couldn't leave to live in a dilapidated apartment in the city. The argument escalated and Tito became quite agitated. He interpreted one of Laura's remarks as her wanting to stay in the villa to protect herself from going astray. He was furious at this insinuation about her losses at the poker table. "You throw your money in my face at every opportunity," he said angrily. If I wanted to marry for money, I had enough sense to marry someone far more wealthy than you. Laura's face turned pale, and she glared at the count. You have no right to speak to Laura like that, the count said. You're an ill-mannered bore. I will speak to my wife exactly as I please. You're wrong.

[00:27:01]As long as you are in my house, you will show her the respect she deserves, and which is your duty. I'll let you know when I need a lesson in manners, father.

[00:27:10]The count looked extremely stern and dignified. Tito, furious but somewhat intimidated, jumped to his feet and slammed the door shut as he left the room. He took the carriage and drove to Florence. That day he won a considerable amount of money gambling. Those who win at gambling lose at love and got quite drunk to celebrate. He didn't return to the villa until the next morning. Laura was as friendly and calm as ever, but her father was quite cold. Not a word was said about what had happened, but after that day things spiraled out of control. Tito became sullen and irritable. The count was critical, and a fierce tension blew between them. Laura didn't intervene, but Tito got the impression that after a heated argument, Laura had spoken to her father, and the count had since then treated her with patience and tolerance, as if she were a mischievous child. He became convinced they were plotting against him, and his suspicions intensified. His suspicions were further fueled when Laura encouraged him to go to Florence to meet her friend, saying that staying in the countryside was boring for her. He thought this was simply to get rid of him. He began to spy on them, hoping to catch them in an inappropriate situation, he would suddenly burst into rooms or secretly follow them to the secluded corners of the garden. They, however, chatted carelessly about ordinary things. Laura greeted him with a pleasant smile. He found no evidence to confirm his agonizing suspicions. He started drinking. He became a nervous and irritable man. He had no proof that anything had happened between them, but deep down he was convinced they had deceived him in a vile way. He thought about it so much he thought he would go mad. That dark, agonizing fire inside him gnawed at his being. On one of his visits to Florence, he bought a pistol.

[00:29:03]He had decided that if he could prove the truth he was so sure of, he would kill them both. I don't know exactly what caused the final tragedy. The only thing that came out in court was that Tito, having lost his patience, went to his father's room one night to confront him. His father had mocked him and laughed. They had a violent fight, and Tito had pulled out his pistol and shot the count dead. Then he collapsed and sobbed over his father's body. Laura and the servants rushed in at the sound of successive gunshots. Tito immediately lunged forward and grabbed the pistol.

[00:29:42]He later said he wanted to shoot himself, but either he hesitated or they acted faster and took the gun from him.

[00:29:49]The police were called. He spent most of his time in prison weeping. He was force-fed because he ate nothing. He told the investigating judge that he had killed his father because he was his wife's lover. Laura, however, was questioned repeatedly and swore that there was nothing more than a natural affection between her and the count.

[00:30:10]This murder horrified the people of Florence. The Italians believed the woman was guilty, but her English and American friends thought she could not have committed such a crime. They said Tito was neurotic and pathologically jealous, confusing the woman's relaxed American mannerisms with a criminal passion. In fact, Tito's claim was ridiculous. Carlo de Sanietro was almost 30 years older than her. He was an old man with white hair. With her husband, young, handsome, and in love with her, who would have thought that something could happen between her and her father-in-law? Laura received the investigating judge and the lawyers hired to defend Tito at Harding's side.

[00:30:50]The lawyers had decided to use the defense of mental incapacity. While the defense's experts examined her and determined that she was mentally unstable, the prosecution's experts stated that she was mentally sound. The fact that she had bought a gun 3 months before the horrific murder proved that the murder was premeditated, others deaf. There was no death penalty in Italy, but the punishment for premeditated murder was life imprisonment in solitary confinement. As the trial approached, the lawyers came to Laura and said that the only way to save Tito from this punishment was to confess in court that she was the count's lover. Laura turned pale.

[00:31:30]Harding vehemently objected. She told him she had no right to perjure and tarnish her reputation to save the good for nothing drunken gambler she had married. Laura was silent for a while.

[00:31:41]Very well, she finally said, if that's the only way to save him, I'll do it.

[00:31:46]Harding tried to dissuade her, but his wife was resolute. I can't rest easy, knowing Tito will spend the rest of his life alone in a cell. And so it was. The trial began. Laura was called to the witness stand, and under oath declared that she had been her father-in-law's mistress for over a year. Tito was deemed mentally unstable and sent to a mental hospital. Laura wanted to leave Florence immediately, but because the pre-trial proceedings in Italy seemed endless, she was nearing her due date.

[00:32:18]The Hardings insisted she stay until the birth. She had a baby boy, but the baby lived only 24 hours. Her plan was to return to San Francisco and live with her mother until she found a job. Tito's extravagance, the money spent on the villa, and then the court costs had severely impoverished her. Hardin was the one who told me most of this. But one day, while we were at the club, and I was having tea with Bessie, and we were talking about these tragic events again, he said to me, "You know, Charlie didn't tell you the whole story because he doesn't know it himself." I never told him, "Men are strange in some ways.

[00:32:59]They're much more easily shaken than women. I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. We talked right before Laura left. She was very exhausted and I thought she was grieving the loss of her baby. I wanted to say something to support her. Don't worry so much about the baby's death. I said in the current situation maybe it was for the best that it died. Why? She said, think about it.

[00:33:24]What would have become of that poor little thing whose father was a murderer? She looked at me with that peculiar, calm look of hers. And then guess what she said? I have no idea, I said. She said, "Where did you get the idea that his father is a murderer?" I felt myself blushing like a turkey. I couldn't believe my ears. Laura, what do you mean? I said, "You were in court," she said. "You heard me say that Carlo is my boyfriend." Bessie Harding stared at me just as she must have stared at Laura. "And what did you say?" I asked.

[00:33:57]"What was there to say?" I said, "Nothing. I was more stunned than horrified." "Laura looked at me, and believe it or not, I'm sure there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. I felt like a complete idiot." "Poor Bessie," I smiled. "Poor Bessie," I murmured to myself now, thinking about this strange story. She and Charlie were already dead, and with their deaths, I had lost good friends. Then I fell asleep and the next day Wyman Halt took me for a long drive. We were having dinner with the Greens at 7 and we arrived at their house right on time. After remembering who Laura was, I was filled with an overwhelming curiosity to see her again.

[00:34:39]Wyman hadn't exaggerated anything. The living room we entered was utterly ordinary. It was comfortable enough, but not the slightest trace of personality.

[00:34:50]It looked as if it had been furnished wholesale from a catalog. It had the cold atmosphere of a formal government office. I was first introduced to our landlord, Jasper Green, then to his brother, Emory, and his sister-in-law, Fanny. Jasper Green was a large stocky man with a round moonlike face and thick jet black disheveled hair. He wore thick celluloid framed glasses. I was astonished by his youth. He couldn't have been much older than 30, meaning he was almost 20 years younger than Mora.

[00:35:22]His brother, Emory, a composer and teacher at a music school in New York, must have been around 27 or 28. His wife was a charming actress, currently unemployed.

[00:35:34]Jasper Green, though perhaps a little too much for MOF, prepared some quite successful cocktails, and we sat down to eat. The conversation was cheerful, even boisterous. Jasper and his brother were very loud. Jasper, Emory, and Emory's wife were extremely talkative. They teased each other, cracked jokes, and laughed. They discussed art, literature, music, and theater. Whenever we had the chance, which wasn't very often, Wyman and I joined in. Laura, however, made no effort. She sat calmly at the head of the table, listening to their frivolous ramblings with a mischievous, tolerant smile on her lips. These weren't silly ramblings, mind you. They were intelligent and modern, but still empty talk. There was a maternal side to her demeanor, and strangely it reminded me of a badger dog lying quietly in the sun, lazily, but attentively watching its pups play around it. I wondered if it crossed his mind how insignificant these pronouncements about art were, compared to the bloody and passionate events of his own past. But did he really remember? It had all happened so long ago, and perhaps it was now just a bad dream. Perhaps this mundane environment was part of a conscious effort to forget, and being among these young people soothed his soul. Perhaps Jasper's clever snobbery gave him peace.

[00:36:59]After that searing tragedy, perhaps he desired nothing more than the safe haven of ordinariness.

[00:37:06]Perhaps Wyman was an expert on Elizabeth and theater and the conversation had turned to that topic at some point. I already understood that Jasper Green was ready to pontificate on any subject and now he thundered. Our theater is completely ruined because today's playwrights are afraid to tackle the violent emotions that are the very essence of tragedy.

[00:37:30]In the 16th century, they possessed a rich repertoire of melodramatic and bloody themes suited to their purposes and thus produced wonderful plays. But where will modern playwrights find these themes? Our Anglo-Saxon blood is so sluggish, so unresponsive that it offers them no material to work with, and so they are condemned to deal with the trivial details of social relations. I wondered what Laura thought of this, but I made sure not to make eye contact with her. She could tell them a story of forbidden love, jealousy, and patraside, which would be wonderful material for one of Shakespeare's successors, but if a playwright were to tackle it, he would probably feel compelled to end it by at least throwing one more corpse onto the stage. The current ending of her story was certainly unexpected, but it was bitterly monotonous and somewhat ridiculous.

[00:38:28]Real life events usually end not with a great noise, but with a quiet sigh. I also wondered why she made such an effort to rekindle our old friendship.

[00:38:40]Of course, she had no reason to guess that I knew so much. Perhaps she trusted her instincts and was confident I wouldn't reveal her secret. or perhaps she wouldn't care even if I did. I listened silently to the excited chatter of the three young people, occasionally stealing glances at him, but his friendly, pleasant countenance told me nothing. If I didn't know otherwise, I could have sworn that no storm had ever disrupted the uneventful flow of his life. The night ended, and that's the end of my story. However, just for fun, I'll tell you about a little incident that happened when Wyman and I got home.

[00:39:20]We decided to have a bottle of beer before bed, and we went to the kitchen to get them. Just as the clock in the hallway struck 11, the phone rang. Wyman went to answer it, and when he returned, he was chuckling to himself. "What's so funny?" I asked. "It was one of my students." Normally it's forbidden to call faculty after 10:30, but the kid was terribly agitated. He asked how evil came into the world. And what did you say? I told him that St. Thomas Aquinas also lost sleep over this very question, so it would be good for him to think about it a little too. I told him to call me no matter what time it was when he found the solution, even 2:00 in the morning if you want it. You can be sure [music] your sleep won't be disturbed for a long time, I said. I won't hide from you that [music] I've come to pretty much the same conclusion, he said, grinning. [music] [music]