§ 16
Peter's adventures in love had so far been pretty much of a piece
with the rest of his life experiences; there had been hopes, and
wonderful dreams, but very few realizations. Peter knew a lot about
such matters; in the orphan asylum there were few vicious practices
which he did not witness, few obscene imaginings with which he was not
made familiar. Also, Pericles Priam had been a man like the traditional
sailor, with a girl in every port; and generally in these towns and
villages there had been no place for Peter to go save where Pericles
went, so Peter had been the witness of many of his master's amours and
the recipient of his confidences. But none of these girls and women had
paid any attention to Peter. Peter was only
a "kid"; and when he grew up and was no longer a kid, but a youth
tormented with sharp desires, they still paid no attention to him — why
should they? Peter was nothing; he had no position, no money, no charms;
he was frail and undersized, his teeth were crooked, and one shoulder
higher than the other. What could he expect from women and girls but
laughter and rebuffs?
Then Peter moved on to the Temple of Jimjambo, and there a
devastating experience befell him — he tumbled head over heels and
agonizingly in love. There was a chambermaid in the institution, a
radiant creature from the Emerald Isles with hair like sunrise and
cheeks like apples, and a laugh that shook the dish-pans on the kitchen
walls. She laughed at Peter, she laughed at the major-domo, she laughed
at all the men in the place who tried to catch her round the waist. Once
or twice a month perhaps she would let them succeed, just to keep them
interested, and to keep herself in practice.
The only one she really favored was the laundry deliveryman, and
Peter soon realized why. This laundry fellow had the use of an
automobile on Sundays, and Nell would dress herself up to kill, and roll
away in state with him. He would spend all his week's earnings
entertaining her at the beach; Peter knew, because she would tell the
whole establishment on Monday morning. "Gee, but I had a swell time!"
she would say; and would count the ice-creams and the merry-go-rounds
and the whirly-gigs and all the whang-doodle things. She would tell
about the tattooed men and the five-legged calf and the woman who was
half man, and all the while she would make the dishpans rattle.
Yes, she was a marvelous creature, and Peter suddenly realized
that his ultimate desire in life was to possess a "swell lady-friend"
like Nell. He realized that there was one essential prerequisite, and
that was money. None of them would look at you without money. Nell had
gone out with him only once, and that was upon the savings of six
months, and Peter had not been able to conceal the effort it cost him to
spend it all. So he had been set down as a "tight-wad," and had made no
headway.
Nell had disappeared, along with everybody else when the police
raided the Temple. Peter never knew what had become of her, but the old
longings still haunted him, and he would find himself imagining — suppose
the police had got her; suppose she were in jail, and he with his new
"pull" were able to get her out, and carry her away and keep her hid
from the laundry man!
These were dreams; but meantime here was reality, here was a new
world. Peter had settled down in the home of the Todd sisters; and what
was their attitude toward these awful mysteries of love?
