Section 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?
