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Chapter 6 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 51

Everything Being Known To Pine,  The Couple Would Confess All And Elope.

In The Second Place,  Chaldea Was Piqued To Think That Lambert Should

Prove To Be So Indifferent To Her Undeniable Beauty,  As To Love This

Pale Shadow Of A Gentile Lady. She Would Make Certain,  She Told Herself,

If He Really Preferred The Lily To The Full-Blown Rose,  And On His

Choice Depended Her Next Step. Gliding Back To The Camp,  She Decided To

Attend To One Thing At A Time,  And The Immediate Necessity Was To Charm

The Man Into Submission. For This Reason Chaldea Sought Out The Servian

Gypsy,  Who Was Her Slave.

 

Her Slave Kara Certainly Was,  But Not Her Rom. If He Had Been Her

Husband She Would Not Have Dared To Propose To Him What She Did Propose.

He Was Amiable Enough As A Slave,  Because He Had No Hold Over Her,  But

If She Married Him According To The Gypsy Law,  He Would Then Be Her

Master,  And Should She Indulge Her Fancy For A Gentile,  He Would

Assuredly Use A Very Nasty-Looking Knife,  Which He Wore Under The Green

Coat. Even As It Was,  Kara Would Not Be Pleased To Fiddle To Her

Dancing,  Since He Already Was Jealous Of Lambert. But Chaldea Knew How

To Manage This Part Of The Business,  Risky Though It Was. The Hairy

Little Ape With The Musician's Soul Had No Claim On Her,  Unless She

Chose To Give Him That Of A Husband. Then,  Indeed,  Things Would Be

Different,  But The Time Had Not Come For Marital Slavery.

 

The Schemer Found Kara At The Hour Of Sunset Sitting At The Door Of The

Tent He Occupied,  Drawing Sweet Tones From His Violin. This Was The

Little Man's Way Of Conversing,  For He Rarely Talked To Human Beings. He

Spoke To The Fiddle And The Fiddle Spoke To Him,  Probably About Chaldea,

Since The Girl Was Almost Incessantly In His Thoughts. She Occupied Them

Now,  And When He Raised His Shaggy Head At The Touch On His Hump-Back,

He Murmured With Joy At The Sight Of Her Flushed Beauty. Had He Known

That The Flush Came From Jealousy Of A Rival,  Kara Might Not Have Been

So Pleased. The Two Conversed In Romany,  Since The Servian Did Not Speak

English.

 

"Brother?" Questioned Chaldea,  Standing In The Glory Of The Rosy Sunset

Which Slanted Through The Trees. "What Of Ishmael?"

 

"He Is With Gentilla In Her Tent,  Sister. Do You Wish To See Him?"

 

Chaldea Shook Her Proud Head. "What Have I To Do With The Half Romany?

Truly,  Brother,  His Heart Is Gentile,  Though His Skin Be Of Egypt."

 

"Why Should That Be,  Sister,  When His Name Signifies That He Is Of The

Gentle Breed?" Asked Kara,  Laying Down His Violin.

 

"Gentile But Not Gentle," Said Chaldea Punning,  Then Checked Herself

Lest She Should Say Too Much. She Had Sworn To Keep Pine's Secret,  And

Intended To Do So,  Until She Could Make Capital Out Of It. At Present

She Could Not,  So Behaved Honorably. "But He's Romany Enough To Split

Words With The Old Witch By The Hour,  So Let Him Stay Where He Is.

Brother,  Would You Make Money?" Kara Nodded And Looked Up With Diamond

Eyes,  Which Glittered And Gloated On The Beauty Of Her Dark Face. "Then,

Brother," Continued The Girl,  "The Gorgio Who Paints Gives Me Gold To

Dance For Him."

Chapter 6 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 52

 

The Servian's Face--What Could Be Seen Of It For Hair--Grew Sombre,  And

He Spat Excessively. "Curses On The Gentile!" He Growled Low In His

Throat.

 

"On Him,  But Not On The Money,  Brother," Coaxed The Girl,  Stooping To

Pat His Face. "It's Fine Work,  Cheating The Rye. But Jealous You Must

Not Be,  If The Gold Is To Chink In Our Pockets."

 

Kara Still Frowned. "Were You My Romi,  Sister--"

 

"Aye,  If I Were. Then Indeed. But Your Romi I Am Not Yet."

 

"Some Day You Will Be. It Would Be A Good Fortune,  Sister. I Am As Ugly

As You Are Lovely,  And We Two Together,  You Dancing To My Playing,  Would

Make Pockets Of Red Gold. White Shows Best When Placed On Black."

 

"What A Mine Of Wisdom You Are," Jeered Chaldea,  Nodding. "Yes. It Is

So,  And My Rom You May Be,  If You Obey."

 

"But If You Let The Gorgio Make Love To You--"

 

"Hey! Am I Not A Free Roman,  Brother? You Have Not Yet Caught The Bird.

It Still Sings On The Bough. If I Kiss Him I Suck Gold From His Lips. If

I Put Fond Arms Around His Neck I But Gather Wealth For Us Both. Can You

Snare A Mouse Without Cheese,  Brother?"

 

Kara Looked At Her Steadily,  And Then Lifted His Green Coat To Show

The Gleam Of A Butcher Knife. "Should You Go Too Far," He Said

Significantly; And Touched The Blade.

 

Chaldea Bent Swiftly,  And Snatching The Weapon From His Belt,  Flung It

Into The Coarse Grass Under The Trees. "So I Fling You Away," Said She,

And Stamped With Rage. "Truly,  Brother,  Speaking Romanly,  You Are A Fool

Of Fools,  And Take Cheating For Honesty. I Lure The Gorgio At My Will,

And Says You Whimpering-Like,  'She's My Romi,' The Which Is A Lie. Bless

Your Wisdom For A Hairy Toad,  And Good-Bye,  For I Go To My Own People

Near Lundra,  And Never Will He Who Doubted My Honesty See Me More."

 

She Turned Away,  And Kara Limped After Her To Implore Forgiveness. He

Assured Her That He Trusted Her Fully,  And That Whatever Tricks She

Played The Gentile Would Not Be Taken Seriously By Himself. "Poison Him

I Would," Grumbled The Little Gnome In His Beard. "For His Golden Talk

Makes You Smile Sweetly Upon Him. But For The Gold--"

 

"Yes,  For The Gold We Must Play The Fox. Well,  Brother,  Now That You

Talk So,  Wait Until The Moon Is Up,  Then Hide In The Woods Round The

Cottage Dell With Your Violin To Your Chin. I Lure The Rabbit From Its

Hole,  And Then You Play The Dance That Delights The Gorgios. But What I

Do,  With Kisses Or Arm-Loving,  My Brother," She Added Shaking Her

Finger,  "Is But The Play Of The Wind To Shake The Leaves. Believe Me

Honest And My Rom You Shall Be--Some Day!" And She Went Away Laughing

Chapter 6 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 53

To Eat And Drink,  For The Long Watching Had Tired Her. As For Kara He

Crawled Again Into The Underwood To Search For His Knife. Apparently He

Did Not Trust Chaldea As Much As She Wanted Him To.

 

Thus It Came About That When The Moon Rolled Through A Starry Sky Like A

Golden Wheel,  Lambert,  Sighing At His Studio Window,  Saw A Slim And

Graceful Figure Glide Into The Clear Space Of Lawn Beyond The Monoliths.

So Searching Was The Thin Moonlight That He Recognized Chaldea At Once,

As She Wandered Here And There Restless As A Butterfly,  And Apparently

As Aimless. But,  Had He Known It,  She Had Her Eyes On The Cottage All

The Time,  And Had He Failed To Come Forth She Would Have Come To Inquire

If He Was At Home. But The Artist Did Come Forth,  Thinking To Wile Away

An Hour With The Fascinating Gypsy Girl. Always Dressing For Dinner,

Even In Solitude,  For The Habit Of Years Was Too Strong To Lay

Aside--And,  Moreover,  He Was Fastidious In His Dress To Preserve His

Self-Respect--He Appeared At The Door Looking Slender And Well-Set Up In

His Dark Clothes. Although It Was August The Night Was Warm,  And Lambert

Did Not Trouble To Put On Cap Or Overcoat. With His Hands In His Pockets

And A Cigar Between His Lips He Strolled Over To The Girl,  Where She

Swayed And Swung In The Fairy Light.

 

"Hullo,  Chaldea," He Said Leisurely,  And Leaning Against One Of The

Moss-Grown Monoliths,  "What Are You Doing Here?"

 

"The Rye," Exclaimed Chaldea,  With A Well-Feigned Start Of Surprise.

"Avali The Rye. Sarishan,  My Gorgious Gentleman,  You,  Too,  Are A

Nightbird. Have You Come Out Mousing Like An Owl? Ha! Ha! And You Hear

The Nightingale Singing,  Speaking In The Gentile Manner," And Clapping

Her Hands She Lifted Up A Full Rich Voice.

 

"Dyal O Pani Repedishis,

M'ro Pirano Hegedishis."

 

"What Does That Mean,  Chaldea?"

 

"It Is An Hungarian Song,  And Means That While The Stream Flows I Hear

The Violin Of My Love. Kara Taught Me The Ditty."

 

"And Kara Is Your Love?"

 

"No. Oh,  No; Oh,  No," Sang Chaldea,  Whirling Round And Round In Quite A

Magical Manner. "No Rom Have I,  But A Mateless Bird I Wander. Still I

Hear The Violin Of My True Love,  My New Love,  Who Knows My Droms,  And

That Means My Habits,  Rye," She Ended,  Suddenly Speaking In A Natural

Manner.

 

"I Don't Hear The Violin,  However," Said Lambert Lazily,  And Thinking

What A Picturesque Girl She Was In Her Many-Hued Rag-Tag Garments,  And

With The Golden Coins Glittering In Her Black Hair.

 

"You Will,  Rye,  You Will," She Said Confidentially. "Come,  My Darling

Gentleman,  Cross My Hand With Silver And I Dance. I Swear It. No Hokkeny

Baro Will You Behold When The Wind Pipes For Me."

Chapter 6 (The Woman And The Man) Pg 54

 

"Hokkeny Baro."

 

"A Great Swindle,  My Wise Sir. Hai,  What A Pity You Cannot Patter The

Gentle Romany Tongue. Kek! Kek! What Does It Matter,  When You Speak

Gentile Gibberish Like An Angel. Sit,  Rye,  And I Dance For You."

 

"Quite Like Carmen And Don José In The Opera," Murmured Lambert,  Sliding

Down To The Foot Of The Rude Stone.

 

"What Of Her And Of Him? Were They Romans?"

 

"Carmen Was And José Wasn't. She Danced Herself

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