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Edna Ferber: Fanny Herself16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN (continued)He laughed, an ugly, abrupt little laugh that ended in a moan, and turned his head and buried his face in Fanny's breast. And Fanny's arm was there, about his shoulder. "Fanny, you don't--I can't--" He stopped. Another silence. Fanny's arm tightened its hold. She bent and kissed the top of the stubbly head, bowed so low now. "Fan, do you remember that woman in `The Three Musketeers'? The hellish woman, that all men loved and loathed? Well, Olga's like that. I'm not whining. I'm not exaggerating. I'm just trying to make you understand. And yet I don't want you to understand. Only you don't know what it means to have you to talk to. To have some one who"--he clutched her hand, fearfully--"You do love me, don't you, Fanny? You do, don't you, Sis?" "More than any one in the world," Fanny reassured him, quietly. "The way mother would have, if she had lived." A sigh escaped him, at that, as though a load had lifted from him. He went on, presently. "It would have been all right if I could have earned just a little more money." Fanny shrank at that, and shut her eyes for a sick moment. "But I couldn't. I asked her to be patient. But you don't know the life there. There is no real home life. They live in the cafes. They go there to keep warm, in the winter, and to meet their friends, and gossip, and drink that eternal coffee, and every coffee house--there are thousands--is a rendezvous. We had two rooms, comfortable ones, for Vienna, and I tried to explain to her that if I could work hard, and get into concert, and keep at the composing, we'd be rich some day, and famous, and happy, and she'd have clothes, and jewels. But she was too stupid, or too bored. Olga is the kind of woman who only believes what she sees. Things got worse all the time. She had a temper. So have I--or I used to have. But when hers was aroused it was--horrible. Words that--that--unspeakable words. And one day she taunted me with being a ---- with my race. The first time she called me that I felt that I must kill her. That was my mistake. I should have killed her. And I didn't." This is page 237 of 283. [Marked] This title is on Your Bookshelf. Buy a copy of Fanny Herself at Amazon.com
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