The Terrible Street

This girl who, one foot turned outwards the other stood on its toes, her back arched and her arms linked high above her head at the fingers, had been standing in the drawing-room while four men in a line, similar in appearance and all hopelessly in love, had been encouraging her with little pushing movements of the arms (that sort of movement an adult makes to urge a child before someone important) this girl who had (pretending not to hear the devoted muted clapping of her husband) beamed down her pleasure upon we four brushed-hair-boys, this girl who had walked in on us after we had retired into the library to talk, who had flopped her arm listlessly and, the interruption wordlessly forgiven, had recounted some amusing episode from the day which (so she told us) she had to impart before she forgot it (and after which by the way, her husband had fallen on his knees and hugged her legs) this girl whom yesterday I had met while paying her husband a visit, today I meet in the crowded street of the city. 

She grabs my arm even before I have had time to unhat myself in greeting, pulls me between the high brick sides of a pair of shops and, holding my chin in her hand so that I must listen the more attentively, she speaks thus: "Come down - will you come down here? Please listen to me? Can I tell you something; a secret perhaps? Let me bring your mouth closer to my ear. Yes, like that please. Now, do you see what is happening up there on the street? Oh! I tremble to fix my mind upon it. They pay me no attention at all, up there! They have more important things to do (so they seem to say) they have places to visit; they will not, will not, step aside and notice me! And, here is the matter I wish to draw to your attention - by not paying me attention, they insult me. No! Don't protest, I beg you. Perhaps you are unused to hearing an ordinary state of affairs called 'an insult' but, I assure you, you will grant me the term later. The worst of the matter is that, granting me my term, you will shrug your shoulders and continue on your way as if nothing has happened. Hold me close, young man. For myself, I fear I cannot shrug my shoulders."