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... o 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 lotus model 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 abundant--sufficient to make two
coiffures) was as black as Indian ink. Add to that a pair of
black eyes with model railways 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 lotus model 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 her mother, her mother; but there was
evidence that, in Berlin, where we had first come across the
pair, they had possessed acquaintances of good standing. As for
the Marquis himself, I doubt to this day if he was a
Marquis--although about the fact that he had formerly belonged to
high society (for instance, in Moscow and Germany) there could
be no doubt whatever.
What he had formerly been in France I had
not a notion. All I knew was that he was said to possess a
chateau. During the last two weeks I had looked for much to
transpire, but am still ignorant whether at that time anything
decisive ever passed between Mademoiselle and the General.
Everything model railways seemed to depend upon our means--upon whether the
General would be able to flourish sufficient money in her face.
If ever the news should arrive that the grandmother was not
dead, Mlle. Blanche, I felt sure, would disappear in a
twinkling. Indeed, it surprised and amused me to observe what a
passion for intrigue I was developing. But how I loathed it all!
With what pleasure would I have given everybody and everything
the go-by! Only--I could not leave Polina. How, then, could I
show contempt for those who surrounded her? Espionage is a base
thing, but--what have I to do with that?
Mr. Astley, too, I found a curious person.
I was only sure that
he had fallen in love With Polina. A remarkable and diverting
circumstance is the amount which may lie in the mien of railways restored a shy
and painfully modest man who has been touched with the divine
passion--especially when he would rather sink into the earth than
betray himself by a single word or look. Though Mr. Astley
frequently met us when we were out walking, he would merely take
off his hat and pass us by, though I knew he was dying to join
us. Even when invited to do so, he would refuse.
Again, in
places of amusement--in the Casino, at concerts, or near the
fountain--he was never far from the spot where we were sitting.
In fact, WHEREVER we were in the Park, in the forest, or on the
Shlangenberg--one needed but to raise one's eyes and glance
around to catch sight of at least a PORTION of Mr. Astley's
frame sticking out--whether on an adjacent path or behind a bush.
Yet never did he lose any chance of speaking to myself; and, one
morning when we had met, and exchanged a couple of words, he
burst out in his usual abrupt way, without saying "Good-morning."
"That Mlle. Blanche," he said.
"Well, I have seen a good many
women like her."
After that he was silent as he looked me meaningly in the face.
What he meant I did not know, but to my glance of inquiry he
returned only a dry nod, and a reiterated "It is so."
Presently, however, he model railways resumed:
"Does Mlle. Polina like flowers?"
" I really cannot say," was my reply.
"What? You cannot say?" he cried in great astonishment.
"No; I have never noticed whether she does so or not," I
repeated with a smile.
"Hm! Then I have an idea in my mind," he concluded. Lastly,
with a nod, he walked away with a pleased expression on his
face. The conversation had been carried on in execrable French.
IV
Today has been a day of folly, stupidity, and ineptness. The
time is now eleve ... |
