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... , Mr. Astley. Apropos, you have
reminded me of something. Were you beneath my chocolates hand made window last night?
Every moment Mlle. Polina kept telling me to open the window and
see if you were there; after which she always smiled."
"Indeed? No, I was not there; but I was waiting in the
corridor, and walking about the hotel."
"She ought to see a doctor, you know, Mr. Astley."
"Yes, she ought. I have sent for one, and, if she dies, I shall
hold you responsible."
This surprised me.
"Pardon me," I replied, "but what do you mean?"
"Never mind. Tell me if it is true that, last night, you won two
hundred thousand thalers?"
"No; I won a hundred thousand florins."
"Good heavens! Then I suppose you will be off to Paris this
morning?
"Why?"
"Because all Russians who have grown rich go to Paris,"
explained Astley, as though he had read the fact in a book.
"But what could I do in Paris in summer time?--I LOVE her, Mr.
Astley! chocolates hand made Surely you know that?"
"Indeed? I am sure that you do NOT. Moreover, if you were to
stay here, you would lose everything that you possess, and have
nothing left with which to pay your expenses in Paris. Well,
good-bye now. I feel sure that today will see you gone from
here."
"Good-bye. But I am NOT going to Paris. chocolates hand made Likewise--pardon me--what
is to become of this family? I mean that the affair of the
General and Mlle. Polina will soon be all over the town."
"I daresay; yet, I hardly suppose that that will break the
General's heart. Moreover, Mlle. Polina has a perfect right to
live where she chooses. In short, we may say that, as a family,
this family has ceased to exist."
I departed, and found myself smiling at the Englishman's strange
assurance that I should soon be leaving for Paris. "I suppose
he means to shoot me in a duel, should Polina die. Yes, that is
what he intends to do." Now, although I was honestly sorry for
Polina, it is a fact that, from the moment when, the previous
night, I had approached the gaming-table, and begun to rake in
the packets of bank-notes, my love for her had entered upon a
new plane. Yes, I can say that now; although, at the time, I was
barely conscious of it. Was I, then, at heart a gambler? Did I,
after all, love Polina not so very much? No, no! As God is my
witness, I loved her! Even when I was returning home from Mr.
Astley's my suffering was genuine, and my self-reproach sincere.
But presently I was to go through an exceedingly strange and
ugly experience.
I was proceeding to the General's rooms when I heard a door near
me open, and a voice call me by name. It was Mlle.'s mother, the
Widow de Cominges who was inviting me, in her daughter's
name, to enter.
I did so; whereupon, I heard a laugh and a little cry proceed
from the bedroom (the pair occupied a suite of two apartments),
where Mlle.
Blanche was just arising.
"Ah, c'est lui! Viens, donc, bete! Is it true that you have won
a mountain of gold and silver? J'aimerais mieux l'or."
"Yes," I replied with a smile.
"How much?"
"A hundred thousand florins."
"Bibi, comme tu es bete! Come in here, for I can't hear you
where you are now.
Nous ferons bombance, n'est-ce pas?"
Entering her room, I found her lolling under a pink satin
coverlet, and revealing a pair of swarthy, wonderfully healthy
shoulders--shoulders such as one sees in dreams--shoulders covered
over with a white cambric nightgown which, trimmed with lace,
stood out, in striking relief, against the darkness of her skin.
"Mon fils, as-tu du coeur?" she chocolates hand made cried when she saw me, and
then giggled. Her laugh had always been a very cheerful one, and
at times it even sounded sincere.
"Tout autre--" I began, paraphrasing Comeille.
"See here," she prattled on. "Please search for my stockings,
and help me to second hand cars dress. Aussi, si tu n'es pas trop bete je te
prends a Paris. I am just off, let me tell you."
"This moment?"
"In half an hour."
True enough, everything stood ready-packed--trunks, portmanteaux,
and all. Coffee had long been served.
"Eh bien, tu verras Paris. Dis donc, qu'est-ce que c'est qu'un
'utchitel'? Tu etais bien bete quand tu etais chocolates hand made 'utchitel.' Where
are my stockings? Please help me to dress."
And she lifted up a really ravishing foot--small, swarthy, and
not misshapen like the majority of feet which look dainty only
in bottines. I laughed, and started to draw on to the foot a
silk chocolates hand made stocking, while Mlle.
Blanche sat on the edge of the bed
and chocolates hand made chattered.
"Eh bien, que feras-tu si je te prends avec moi? First of all I
must have fifty thousand francs, and you shall give them to me
at Frankfurt. Then we will go on to Paris, where we will live
together, et je te ferai voir des etoiles en plein jour. Yes,
you shall see such women as your eyes have never lit upon."
"Stop a moment. If I were to give you those fifty thousand
francs, what should I have left for myself?"
"Another hundred thousand francs, please to remember. Besides,
I could live with you in your rooms for a month, or even for
two; or even for longer. But it would not take us more than two
months to get through fifty thousand francs; for, look you, je
suis bonne enfante, et tu verras des etoiles, you may be sure."
"What? You mean to say that we should spend the whole in two
months?"
"Certainly. Does that surprise you very much? Ah, vil esclave!
Why, one month of that life would be better than all your
previous existence. One month--et apres, le deluge! Mais tu ne
peux comprendre. Va! Away, away! You are not worth it.--Ah, que
fais-tu?"
For, while drawing on the other stocking, I had felt constrained
to kiss her. Immediately she shrunk back, kicked me in the face
with her toes, and turned me neck and prop out of the room.
"Eh bien, mon 'utchitel'," she called after me, "je t'attends,
si tu veux. I start in a quarter of an hour's time."
I returned to my own room with my head in a whirl. It was not my
fault that Polina had thrown a packet in my face, and preferred
Mr. Astley to myself. A few bank-notes were still fluttering
about the floor, and I picked them up. At that moment the door
opened, and the landlord appeared--a person who, until now, had
never bestowed upon me so much as a glance. He had come to know
if I would prefer to move to a lower floor--to a suite which had
just been tenanted by Count V.
For a moment I reflected.
"No!" I shouted. "My account, please, for in ten minutes I
shall be gone."
"To Paris, to Paris!" I added to myself. "Every man of birth
must make her acquaintance."
Within a quarter of an ho ... |
