INTERNATIONAL LOVE
397
splendid gesture to congratulate my pupil, extending not my hand but,
"Your exact rent please? Per month, Monsieur."
Madame Dijour said loudly, "Eighteen hundred francs." She
paused, then repeated the figure firmly.
This was one-quarter of the correct amount. So it was she, not I,
who was threatened ... a rent-control check. Was it a mere formality
by now? ... had the cop been bribed? ... what would my grocer
have answered? I saw now why she had always refused to give me
rent receipts. But
if
I called her bluff now, I stood to lose my pupil.
Jacqueline translated busily; so I nodded.
"May I see your receipts," the officer asked while writing.
Madame Dijour's eyes arched separately.
Jacqueline with one slow lean arm began to stroke the dog; it
stirred. I stirred, the soft stroke on my skin. "I always throw them
away."
The officer dipped his head slyly; we were all now in collusion.
He finished the rest of his drink. He closed his book and his pen
officially, patted Jacqueline's head genially, and closed the door: gone.
"It is evident," Madame Dijour said, "that you know how to handle
the police." Her mouth was rosy and goldflecked. "And now you will
have your reward." You can imagine what I thought.
Her sagging eyes rose to a pointed pause ... nothing happened
... and
"Jacqueline!"
Jacqueline rose calmly, obediently, refilled her
mother's glass, and filled a clean glass for me.
American students in Paris, the international situation, English
composition - we talked about awful things. The first chance I could
I said to Jacqueline in English, "How's your homework - easy?"
Catching her eye, I tried to wink ... but it didn't come off, and
she only shrugged her thin neck. She motioned for the dog.
"Sss! Poupee!" The dog Poupee stalked obediently past the
basket in which the pregnant cat lay dozing, and growled. The eat's
eyelids flickered; its jaws opened and it seemed to sigh. Jacqueline
caught the dog - it wasn't much bigger than a cat - she scooped it
up with a sudden, shy bend and played with its ears. She said in
English (startling me), "She is Poupee." (A dirty mop of a dog.)
And pointing to the cat, "She is Bijou."
"You see, you
can
speak English," I said. I felt better - gratified
to hear her try.
"Jacqueline has never performed very well at school," her mother
