Leonora

: The Blue Germ

I found a note in the hall from Sarakoff asking me to come round to the

Pyramid Restaurant at eight o'clock to meet a friend of his. It was a

crisp clear evening, and I decided to walk. There were two problems on

my mind. One was the outlook of Sarakoff, which even I deemed to be too

materialistic. The other was the attitude of young Thornduck, which was

obviously absurd.



In my top hat and solemn frock-co
t I paced slowly down Harley Street.



Thornduck talked as if suffering, as if all that side of existence which

the Blue Germ was to do away with, were necessary and salutary. Sarakoff

spoke as if pleasure was the only aim of life. Now, though sheer

physical pleasure had never entered very deeply into my life, I had

never denied the fact that it was the only motive of the majority of my

patients. For what was all our research for? Simply to mitigate

suffering; and that is another way of saying that it was to increase

physical well-being. Why, then, did Sarakoff's views appear extreme to

me? What was there in my composition that whispered a doubt when I had

the doctrine of maximum pleasure painted with glowing enthusiasm by the

Russian in the train that afternoon?



I moved into Oxford Street deeply pondering. The streets were crowded,

and from shop windows there streamed great wedges of white and yellow

light. The roar of traffic was round me. The 'buses were packed with men

and women returning late from business, or on the way to seek relaxation

in the city's amusements. I passed through the throng as through a

coloured mist of phantoms. My eyes fastened on the faces of those who

passed by. Who could really doubt the doctrine of pleasure? Which one of

those people would hesitate to plunge into the full tide of the senses,

did not the limitations of the body prevent him?



I crossed Piccadilly Circus with a brisker step. It was no use worrying

over questions which could not be examined scientifically. The only

really important question in life was to be a success.



The brilliant entrance of the Pyramid Restaurant was before me, and

within, standing on the marble floor, I saw the tall figure of the

Russian.



Sarakoff greeted me with enthusiasm. He was wearing evening-dress with a

white waistcoat, and the fact perturbed me. I put my hat and stick in

the cloakroom.



"Who is coming?" I asked anxiously.



"Leonora," he whispered. "I only found out she was in London this

afternoon. I met her when I was strolling in the Park while you were

busy with your patients."



"But who is Leonora?" I asked. "And can I meet her in this state?"



"Oh, never mind about your dress. You are a busy doctor and she will

understand. Leonora is the most marvellous woman in the world. I intend

to make her marry me."



"Is she English?" I stammered.



He laughed.



"Little man, you look terrified, as usual. You are always terrified. It

is your habit. No, Leonora is not English. She is European. If you went

out into the world of amusement a little more--and it would be good for

you--you would know that she has the most exquisite voice in the history

of civilization. She transcends the nightingale because her body is

beautiful. She transcends the peacock because her voice is beautiful.

She is, in fact, worthy of every homage, and you will meet her in a

short time. Like all perfect things she is late."



He took out his watch and glanced at the door.



"You are an extraordinary person, Sarakoff," I observed, after watching

him a moment. "Will you answer me a rather intimate question?"



"Certainly."



"What precisely do you mean when you say you intend to make the charming

lady marry you?"



"Precisely what I say. She loves fame. So far I have been unsuccessful,

because she does not think I am famous enough."



"How do you intend to remedy that?"



He stared at me in amazement.



"Do you think that any people have ever been so famous as you and I will

be in a few days?"



I looked away and studied the bright throng of visitors in the hall.



"In a few days?" I asked. "Are you not a trifle optimistic? Don't you

think that it will take months before the possibilities and meaning of

the germ are properly realized?"



"Rubbish," exclaimed Sarakoff. "You are a confirmed pessimist. You are

impossible, Harden. You are a mass of doubts and apprehensions. Ah, here

is Leonora at last. Is she not marvellous?"



I looked towards the entrance. I saw a woman of medium height, very

fair, dressed in some soft clinging material of a pale primrose colour.

From a shoulder hung a red satin cloak. Round her neck was a string of

large pearls, and in her hair was a jewelled osprey. She presented a

striking appearance and I gained the impression of some northern spirit

in her that shone out of her eyes with the brilliancy of ice.



Sarakoff strode forward, and the contrast that these two afforded was

extraordinary. Tall, dark, warm and animated, he stood beside her, and

stooped to kiss her hand. She gazed at him with a smile so slight that

it seemed scarcely to disturb the perfect symmetry of her face. He began

to talk, moving his whole body constantly and making gestures with his

arms, with a play of different expressions in his face. She listened

without moving, save that her eyes wandered slowly round the large hall.

At length Sarakoff beckoned to me.



I approached somewhat awkwardly and was introduced.



"Leonora," said the Russian, "this is a little English doctor with a

very large brain. He was closely connected with the great discovery of

which I am going to tell you something to-night at dinner. He is my

friend and his name is Richard Harden."



"I like your name," said Leonora, in a clear soft voice.



I took her hand. We passed into the restaurant. It was one of those vast

pleasure-palaces of music, scent, colour and food that abounded in

London. An orchestra was playing somewhere high aloft. The luxury of

these establishments was always sounding a curious warning deep down in

my mind. But then, as Sarakoff had said, I am a pessimist, and if I were

to say that I have noticed that nature often becomes very prodigal and

lavish just before she takes away and destroys, I would be uttering,

perhaps, one of the many half-truths in which the pessimistic spirit

delights.



Our table was in a corner at an agreeable distance from the orchestra.

Sarakoff placed Leonora between him and myself. Attentive waiters

hurried to serve us; and the eyes of everyone in our immediate

neighbourhood were turned in our direction. Leonora did not appear to be

affected by the interest she aroused. She flung her cloak on the back of

her chair, put her elbows on the table, and gazed at the Russian

intently.



"Tell me of your discovery, Alexis."



He smiled, enchanted.



"I shall be best able to give you some idea of what our discovery means

if I begin by telling you that I am going to read your character. Does

that interest you?"



She nodded. Then she turned to me and studied me for a moment.



"No, Alexis. Let Richard read my character first."



I blushed successfully.



"Why do you blush?" she asked with some interest.



"He blushed because of your unpardonable familiarity in calling him

Richard," laughed Sarakoff.



"I shall be most happy, Leonora," I stammered, making an immense effort,

and longing for the waiter to bring the champagne. "But I am not good at

the art."



"But you must try."



I saw no way out of the predicament. Sarakoff's eyes were twinkling

roguishly, so I began, keeping my gaze on the table.



"You have a well-controlled character, with a considerable power of

knowing exactly what you want to do with your life, and you come from

the North. I fancy you sleep badly."



"How do you know I sleep badly?" she challenged.



"Your eyes are a clear frosty blue, and you are of rather slight build.

I am merely speaking from my own experience as a doctor."



I suppose my words were not particularly gracious or well-spoken.

Leonora simply nodded and leaned back from the table.



"Now, Alexis, tell me about myself," she said.



My glass now contained champagne and I decided to allow that wizard to

take charge of my affairs for a time.



"Leonora, you are one of those women who visit this dull planet from

time to time for reasons best known to themselves. I think you must come

from Venus, or one of the asteroids; or it may be from Sirius. From the

beginning you knew you were not like ordinary people."



"Alexis," she drawled, "you are boring me."



"Capital!" said Sarakoff. "Now we will descend to facts, as our friend

here did. You are the most inordinately vain, ambitious, cold-hearted

woman in Europe, Leonora. You value yourself before everything. You

think your voice and your beauty cannot be beaten, and you are right.

Now if I were to tell you that your voice and your beauty could be

preserved, year after year, without any change, what would you think?"



A kind of fierce vitality sprang into her face.



"What do you mean?" she asked quietly. "Have you discovered the elixir

of youth?"



He nodded. She laid her hand on his arm.



"How long does its effect last?"



"Well--for a considerable time."



"You are certain?"



"Absolutely."



She leaned towards him.



"You will let no one else have it, Alexis," she asked softly. "Only me?"



Sarakoff glanced at me.



"Leonora, you are very selfish."



"Of course."



"Well, you are not the only person who is going to have the elixir. The

whole world is going to have it."



I watched her with absorbed attention. She seemed to accept the idea of

an elixir of youth without any incredulity, and did not find anything

extraordinary in the fact of its discovery. In that respect, I fancied,

she was typical of a large class of women--that class that thinks a

doctor is a magician, or should be. But when Sarakoff said that the

whole world was going to have the elixir, a spasm of anger shewed for a

moment in her face. She lowered her eyes.



"This is unkind of you, Alexis. Why should not just you and I have the

elixir?" She raised her eyes and turned them directly on Sarakoff. "Why

not?" she murmured.



The Russian flushed slightly.



"Leonora, it must either not be, or else the whole world must have it.

It can't be confined. It must spread. It's a germ. We have let it loose

in Birmingham."



She shuddered.



"A germ? What does he mean?" She turned to me.



"It's a germ that will do away with all disease and decay," I said.



"It will make me younger?"



"Of that I am uncertain. It will more probably fix us where we are."



The Russian nodded in confirmation of my view. Leonora considered for a

while. I could see nothing in her appearance that she could have wished

altered, but she seemed dissatisfied.



"I should have preferred it to make us all a little younger," she said

decidedly. Her total lack of the sense of miracles astonished me. She

behaved as if Sarakoff had told her that we had discovered a new kind

of soap or a new patent food. "But I am glad you have found it, Alexis,"

she continued. "It will certainly make you famous. That will be nice,

but I am sorry you should have given the elixir to Birmingham first.

Birmingham is in no need of an elixir, my friend. You should have put

something else in their water-supply." She turned to me and examined me

with calm criticism. "What a pity you didn't discover the elixir when

you were younger, Richard. Your hair is grey at the temples." A clear

laugh suddenly came from her. "What a lot of jealously there will be,

Alexis. The old ones will be so envious of the young. Think how Madame

Reaour will rage--and Betty, and the Signora--all my friends--oh, I feel

quite glad now that it doesn't make people younger. You are sure it

won't?"



"I don't think so," said Sarakoff, watching her through half-closed

lids. "No, I think you are safe, Leonora."



"And my voice?"



"It will preserve that ... indefinitely, I think."



She was arrested by the new idea. She looked into the distance and

fingered the pearls at her throat.



"Then I shall become the most famous singer in the whole world," she

murmured. "And I shall have all the money I want. My friend, you have

done me a service. I will not forget it." She looked at him and laughed

slightly. "But I do not think you have done the world a service. A great

many people will not like the germ. No, they will desire to get rid of

it, Alexis."



She shuddered a little. I stared at her.



"I think you are mistaken," said Alexis, gruffly.



She shook her head.



"Come, let us finish dinner quickly and I will take you both to my flat

and sing to you a little."



Leonora's flat was in Whitehall Court, and of its luxury I need not

speak. I must confess to the fact that, sober and timid as is my nature,

I thoroughly enjoyed the atmosphere. Leonora was generous. Her voice was

exquisite. I sat on a deep couch of green satin and gazed at a Chinese

idol cut in green jade, that stood on a neighbouring table, with all my

senses lulled by the charm of her singing. The sense of responsibility

fell away from me like severed cords. I became pagan as I lolled there,

a creature of sensuous feeling. Sarakoff lay back in a deep chair in the

shadow with his eyes fixed on Leonora. We were both in a kind of

delicious drowsiness when the opening of the door roused us.



Leonora stopped abruptly. With some difficulty I removed my gaze from

the Chinese figure, which had hypnotized me, and looked round

resentfully.



Lord Alberan was standing in the doorway. He seemed surprised to find

that Leonora had visitors. I could not help marking a slight air of

proprietorship in his manner.



"I am afraid I am interrupting," he said smoothly. He crossed to the

piano and leant over Leonora. "You got my telegram?"



"No," she replied; "I did not even know you had returned from France."



"I came the day before yesterday. I had to go down to Maltby Towers. I

came up to town to-day and wired you on the way."



He straightened himself and turned towards us. Leonora rose and came

down the room. We rose.



"Geoffrey," she said, drawling slightly, "I want to introduce you to two

friends of mine. They will soon be very famous--more famous than you

are--because they have discovered a germ that is going to keep us all

young."



Lord Alberan glanced at me and then looked hard at the Russian. A

swiftly passing surprise shewed that he recognized Sarakoff. Leonora

mentioned our names casually, took up a cigarette and dropped into a

chair.



"Yes," she continued, "these gentlemen have put the germ into the water

that supplies Birmingham." She struck a match and lit the cigarette. I

noticed she actually smoked very little, but seemed to like to watch the

burning cigarette. "Do sit down. What are you standing for, Geoffrey?"



Lord Alberan's attitude relaxed. He had evidently decided on his course

of action.



"That is very interesting," he observed, as if he had never seen

Sarakoff before. "A germ that is going to keep us all young. It reminds

me of the Arabian Nights. I should like to see it."



"You've seen it already," replied Sarakoff, imperturbably.



Lord Alberan's cold eyes looked steadily before him. His mouth

tightened.



"Really?"



"You saw it at Charing Cross Station the night before last."



"At Charing Cross Station?"



I tried to signal to the Russian, but he seemed determined to proceed.



"Yes--you thought I was an anarchist. You saw the contents of my bag.

Six tubes containing a blue-coloured gelatine. Perhaps, Lord Alberan,

you remember now."



"I remember perfectly," he exclaimed, smiling slightly. "Yes, I regret

my mistake. One has to be careful."



"Did you think my Alexis was an anarchist?" cried Leonora. "You are the

stupidest of Englishmen."



It was obvious that Alberan did not like this. He glanced at a thin gold

watch that he carried in his waistcoat pocket.



"I will not interrupt you any longer," he remarked gravely. "You are

quite occupied, I see, and I much apologize for intruding."



"Don't be still more stupid," she said lazily. "Sit down. Tell me how

you like the idea of never dying."



"I am afraid I cannot entertain the idea seriously." He hesitated and

then looked firmly at Sarakoff. "Do I understand, sir, that you have

actually put some germ into the Birmingham water-supply?"



The Russian nodded.



"You'll hear about it in a day or two," he said quietly.



"You had permission to do this?"



"No, I had no permission."



"Are you aware that you are making a very extraordinary statement, sir?"



"Perfectly."



Lord Alberan became very red. The lower part of his face seemed to

expand. His eyes protruded.



"Don't gobble," said Leonora.



"Gobble?" stuttered Alberan, turning upon her. "How dare you say I

gobble?"



"But you are gobbling."



"I refuse to stay here another moment. I will leave immediately. As for

you, sir, you shall hear from me in course of time. To-morrow I am

compelled to go abroad again, but when I return I shall institute a

vigorous and detailed enquiry into your movements, which are highly

suspicious, sir,--highly suspicious." He moved to the door and then

turned. "Mademoiselle, I wish you good-night." He bowed stiffly and went

out.



"Thank heaven, I've got rid of him for good," murmured Leonora. "He

proposed to me last week, Alexis."



"And what did you say?" asked Sarakoff.



"I said I would see, but things are different now." She turned her eyes

straight in his direction. "That is, if you have told me the truth,

Alexis. Oh, isn't it wonderful!" She jumped up and threw out her arms.

"Suppose that it all comes true, Alexis! Immortality--always to be young

and beautiful!"



"It will come true," he said.



She lowered her arms slowly and looked at him.



"I wonder how long love will last?"



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