Excerpts from
Silk
By Juliane Preisler
Mørk was leaning
against the wall of the Blue Study. He was still in his make-up, but had
changed into the red dressing-gown.
'Regitze,'
he said, sampling it. 'That name really will not do, let me see...'
Regitze, who could not stop
looking down at the floor - she didn't want to be exposed to the eyes'
emptiness again - noticed a bird-light movement on her cheek. Sye didn't know
if it was his hand, his hair or just the brush of an arm.
'Silke,' said Mørk. 'Little
Silke, let's see if that might fit...'
In one quick, whispering
movement he entered the Blue Study and closed the door.
Regitze felt dizzy - as though
she had been touched by a strange, alien fragrance or unknown colour. 'Silke -
Little Silke' was still echoing in her head long after Mørk had closed his
door. Then she remembered the eyes' dead darkness and tried to come to herself.
Miss Lind suddenly stood
before her. She must have been far away, she hadn't heard her approach at all.
'What are you hanging about
here for? Shouldn't you be getting off home, it can't be much fun walking alone
in this weather?'
Regitze thought of her small,
over-filled attic room at the house of the General's Widow, crossed by dark
streets inside, and had no burning desire to make a move homeward, but the
thought of the Theatre, empty now at night, was not attractive either. Miss
Lind stood for a moment, watching her. Perhaps she looked stupid, still dizzy
and dreaming, far away, for Miss Lind's expression gradually became softer.
'Is there something wrong... are
you not well?'
'No, I was just thinking...
she involuntarily recoiled a little from the Blue Study and moved in the
direction of
her own little cupboard.
'Is there something wrong with Actor Mørk?'
'Wrong? Not really wrong,'
Miss Lind smiled cruelly.
'Just stay
away from him, if you want to keep your sanity... they say that Mrs Schack...'
she interrupted herself, or rather stopped talking, in order to say just enough
and not too much.
'I was wondering...' said
Regitze hesitantly, 'if he has something to do with someone... one of the
others, I mean.'
Miss Lind's facial expression
changed to something almost malevolent.
'I can tell you that he
prefers them blonde, pretty and thin,' she said. 'Like Miss Piil, for example.'
'Oh,' said Regitze. She could
think of nothing else to say.
Miss Lind turned and went. The
keys jingled with a stridently triumphant sound.
Translated by David McDuff
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