The Professors House
metonymy. Augusta enjoyed the Professor when
he was risqué, since she was sure of his ultimate delicacy. Though this figure looked so ample and
billowy (as if you might lay your head upon its
deep-breathing softness and rest safe forever),
if you touched it you suffered a
no matter how many times you had touched it
before. It presented the most unsympathetic surface imaginable. Its hardness was not that of
wood, which responds to concussion with living
vibration and is stimulating to the hand, nor
that of felt, which drinks something from the
fingers. It was a dead, opaque, lumpy solidity, like
chunks of putty, or tightly packed sawdust-very
disappointing to the tactile sense, yet somehow always fooling you again. For no matter how often
you had bumped up against that torso, you could
never believe that contact with it would be as bad
severe shock,
as it was.
The second form was more self-revelatory; a full-length female figure in a smart wire skirt with a trim metal waist line. It had no legs, as one could see all too well, no viscera behind its glistening ribs, and its bosom resembled a strong wire bird-cage. But St. Peter contended that it had a nervous system. When Augusta left it clad for the night in a new party dress for Rosamond or Kathleen, it often took on a sprightly, tricky air, as if it were going out for the evening to make a great show of being
-18-
