Three Continents Read Online Free Page A

with Lindsay’s interest in the movement in general and the Rani in particular. And just as Michael used to go around wildly, even shamelessly, asking “Where’s Crishi?” so Jean could be observed with the same look of anguish on her face, stopping people to ask “Have you seen Lindsay?”

T HEN one day Lindsay decided to donate Propinquity. She announced this quite casually and in public, in the course of the Rawul’s evening talk under the tree. He had been mentioning the various centers of the movement that had already been established. Besides the one in his own kingdom—the cradle of the movement as well as, so we were often told, of civilization—there were centers in Sussex, England, at Fontainebleau outside Paris, on a baronial estate in Holland, and one on Columbus Avenue in New York. And suddenly Lindsay said “Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to have one here?” I’m sure she spoke without premeditation—she never did premediate anything, I don’t think she was capable of it. With her it was always “wouldn’t it be fun to—” and it might be anything like a trip to the city or to fly to a party in Dallas. I suspect that it was her approach to her love affairs, when she first decided to sleep with someone (“wouldn’t it be fun to—?”). And it always came out in a bright, little-girl voice, and then, if her suggestion wasn’t immediately taken up with enthusiasm, her face would fall and she urged “But why not ?” That was what happened this time too. When her impulsive offer of the house was received in silence—and it was a very heavy silence—she looked from face to face and said “But why not ?” in a hurt voice.
    No one answered, for differing reasons. The Rawul had flushed with pleasure; but as he was a modest and reticent man, he must have felt it to be indelicate to rush forwardand accept such a handsome gift. The Rani played with her bracelets; there was an aloof little smile on her face, and what I noticed most was the way she was refusing to meet anyone’s glance. Crishi too was silent, but his eyes flashed like a person who unexpectedly gets something that he wants. He looked around the circle at Michael, and at me. I saw that Michael met his glance; and when Lindsay asked for the third time “But why not ?” Michael answered her, “Yes why not.” And then everyone was looking at me, in their different ways.
    From that time on they got to work on me, again in their different ways. Jean started it, maybe because she was the one who felt the strongest. That night she stood waiting for me outside Lindsay’s bedroom door; “Come in here,” she said. Lindsay was lying with her head buried in the pillows, the way she did when anyone involved her in an argument, not wanting to hear or see anything. Jean said “You’re not going to go along with this nonsense, are you, Harriet?” I said “I don’t want to.” “No I should say not,” Jean said grimly. She looked at Lindsay’s slender form on the bed. “Turn around,” she said. Lindsay didn’t stir. I could see that Jean was tempted to grab hold of her and make her turn around. I had witnessed physical fights between them before and had not liked them; so I really wanted to get out. But Jean looked at me with her pathetic dog eyes: “Try and talk some sense into your mother, if you can, Harriet.”
    Then Lindsay tossed around to face us: “That’s all I ever hear from you, Jean. Sense. Good sense. Common sense. I despise common sense.”
    â€œListen to her,” Jean said to me. “Now we are too mundane for her. She wants to get onto a higher plane: a world movement, no less.”
    â€œYou’ve been as involved as the rest of us,” Lindsay said.
    â€œInvolved with who?”
    â€œWith who: That’s all you can ever think of.