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... uld guess, but which I did
not know for certain. True, the slavery and abasement in which
she held me might have given me (such things often do so) 125 the
power to question her with abrupt directness (seeing that,,
inasmuch as I figured in her eyes as a mere slave and nonentity,
she could not very well have taken offence at any rude
curiosity); but the fact was that, though she let me question
her, she never returned me a single answer, and at times did not
so much as notice me. That is how matters stood.
Next day there was a 125 good deal of talk about a telegram which,
four days ago, had been sent to St. Petersburg, but to which
there had come no answer. The General was visibly disturbed and
moody, for the matter concerned his mother.
The Frenchman, too,
was excited, and after dinner the whole party talked long and
seriously together--the Frenchman's tone being extraordinarily
presumptuous and offhand to everybody. It almost reminded one of
the proverb, "Invite a man to your table, and soon he will
place his feet upon it." Even to Polina he was brusque almost to
the point of rudeness.
Yet still he seemed glad to join us in
our walks in the Casino, or in our rides and drives about the
town. I had long been aware of certain circumstances which bound
the General to him; I had long been aware that in Russia they
had hatched some scheme together although I did not know whether
the plot had come to anything, or whether it was still only in
the stage of being talked of.
Likewise I was aware, in part, of
a family secret--namely, that, last year, the Frenchman had
bailed the General out of debt, and given him 30,000 roubles
wherewith to pay his Treasury dues on retiring from the service.
And now, of course, the General was in a vice -- although the
chief part in the affair was being played by Mlle. Blanche. Yes,
of this last I had no doubt.
But WHO was this Mlle. Blanche? It was said of her that she was
a Frenchwoman of good birth who, living with her 125 mother,
possessed a colossal fortune. It was also said that she was some
relation to the Marquis, but only a distant one a cousin, or
cousin-german, or something of the sort. Likewise I knew that,
up to the time of my journey to Paris, she and the Frenchman had
been more ceremonious towards our party--they had stood on a much
more precise and delicate footing with them; but that now their
acquaintanceship--their friendship, their intimacy--had taken on a
much more off-hand and rough-and-ready air. Perhaps they thought
that our means were too modest for them, and, therefore, unworthy
of politeness or reticence. Also, for the last three days I had
noticed certain looks which Astley had kept 125 throwing at Mlle.
Blanche and her mother; and it had occurred to me that he must
have had some previous acquaintance with the pair. I had even
surmised that the Frenchman too must have met Mr. Astley before.
Astley was a man so shy, reserved, and taciturn in his manner
that one might have looked for anything from him. At all events
the Frenchman accorded him only the slightest of greetings, and
scarcely even looked at him. Certainly he did not seem to be
afraid of him; which was intelligible enough.
But why did Mlle.
Blanche also never look at the Englishman?--particularly since,
a propos of something or another, the Marquis had declared the
Englishman to be immensely and indubitably rich? Was not that a
sufficient reason to make Mlle. Blanche look at the Englishman?
Anyway the General seemed extremely uneasy; and, one could well
understand what a telegram to announce the death of his mother
would mean for him!
Although I thought it probable that Polina was avoiding me for a
definite reason, I adopted a cold and indifferent air; for I
felt pretty certain that it would not be long before she
herself approached me. For two days, therefore, I devoted my
attention to Mlle. Blanche. The poor General was in despair! To
fall in love at fifty-five, and with such vehemence, is indeed a
misfortune! And add to that his widowerhood, his children, his
ruined property, his debts, and the woman with whom he had
fallen in love! Though Mlle. Blanche was extremely good-looking,
I may or may not be understood when I say that she had one of
those faces which one is afraid of. At all events, I myself have
always feared such women.
Apparently about twenty-five years of
age, she was tall and broad-shouldered, with shoulders that
sloped; yet though her neck and bosom were ample in their
proportions, her skin was dull yellow in colour, while her hair
(which was extremely 125 abundant--sufficient to make two
coiffures) was as black as Indian ink. Add to that a pair of
black eyes with yellowish whites, a proud glance, gleaming
teeth, and lips which were perennially pomaded and redolent of
musk. As for her dress, it was invariably rich, effective, and
chic, yet in good taste. Lastly, her feet and hands were
astonishing, and her voice a deep contralto. Sometimes, when she
laughed, she displayed her teeth, but at ordinary times her air
was taciturn and haughty--especially in the presence of Polina
and Maria Philipovna. Yet she seemed to me almost destitute of
education, and even of wits, though cunning and suspicious.
This, apparently, was not because her life had been lacking in
incident. Perhaps, if all were known, the Marquis was not her
kinsman at all, nor he ... |
