The Torrents of Spring Part 20

On the immense tray, which the waiter brought in, there lay also a playbill. Maria Nikolaevna s.n.a.t.c.hed it up at once.

'A drama!' she p.r.o.nounced with indignation, 'a German drama.

No matter; it's better than a German comedy. Order a box for me--_baignoire_--or no ... better the _Fremden-Loge_,' she turned to the waiter. 'Do you hear: the _Fremden-Loge_ it must be!'

'But if the _Fremden-Loge_ has been already taken by his excellency, the director of the town (_seine Excellenz der Herr Stadt-Director_),'

the waiter ventured to demur.

'Give his excellency ten _thalers_, and let the box be mine! Do you hear!'

The waiter bent his head humbly and mournfully.

'Dimitri Pavlovitch, you will go with me to the theatre? the German actors are awful, but you will go ... Yes? Yes? How obliging you are!

Dumpling, are you not coming?

'You settle it,' Polozov observed into the cup he had lifted to his lips.

'Do you know what, you stay at home. You always go to sleep at the theatre, and you don't understand much German. I'll tell you what you'd better do, write an answer to the overseer--you remember, about our mill ... about the peasants' grinding. Tell him that I won't have it, and I won't and that's all about it! There's occupation for you for the whole evening.'

'All right,' answered Polozov.

'Well then, that's first-rate. You're a darling. And now, gentlemen, as we have just been speaking of my overseer, let's talk about our great business. Come, directly the waiter has cleared the table, you shall tell me all, Dimitri Pavlovitch, about your estate, what price you will sell it for, how much you want paid down in advance, everything, in fact! (At last, thought Sanin, thank G.o.d!) You have told me something about it already, you remember, you described your garden delightfully, but dumpling wasn't here.... Let him hear, he may pick a hole somewhere! I'm delighted to think that I can help you to get married, besides, I promised you that I would go into your business after lunch, and I always keep my promises, isn't that the truth, Ippolit Sidoritch?'

Polozov rubbed his face with his open hand. 'The truth's the truth.

You don't deceive any one.'

'Never! and I never will deceive any one. Well, Dimitri Pavlovitch, expound the case as we express it in the senate.'

x.x.xVII

Sanin proceeded to expound his case, that is to say, again, a second time, to describe his property, not touching this time on the beauties of nature, and now and then appealing to Polozov for confirmation of his 'facts and figures.' But Polozov simply gasped and shook his head, whether in approval or disapproval, it would have puzzled the devil, one might fancy, to decide. However, Maria Nikolaevna stood in no need of his aid. She exhibited commercial and administrative abilities that were really astonishing! She was familiar with all the ins-and-outs of farming; she asked questions about everything with great exact.i.tude, went into every point; every word of hers went straight to the root of the matter, and hit the nail on the head. Sanin had not expected such a close inquiry, he had not prepared himself for it. And this inquiry lasted for fully an hour and a half. Sanin experienced all the sensations of the criminal on his trial, sitting on a narrow bench confronted by a stern and penetrating judge. 'Why, it's a cross-examination!' he murmured to himself dejectedly. Maria Nikolaevna kept laughing all the while, as though it were a joke; but Sanin felt none the more at ease for that; and when in the course of the 'cross-examination' it turned out that he had not clearly realised the exact meaning of the words 'repart.i.tion' and 'tilth,' he was in a cold perspiration all over.

'Well, that's all right!' Maria Nikolaevna decided at last. 'I know your estate now ... as well as you do. What price do you suggest per soul?' (At that time, as every one knows, the prices of estates were reckoned by the souls living as serfs on them.)

'Well ... I imagine ... I could not take less than five hundred roubles for each,' Sanin articulated with difficulty. O Pantaleone, Pantaleone, where were you! This was when you ought to have cried again, 'Barbari!'

Maria Nikolaevna turned her eyes upwards as though she were calculating.

'Well?' she said at last. 'I think there's no harm in that price.

But I reserved for myself two days' grace, and you must wait till to-morrow. I imagine we shall come to an arrangement, and then you will tell me how much you want paid down. And now, _basta cosi_!'

she cried, noticing Sanin was about to make some reply. 'We've spent enough time over filthy lucre ... _a demain les affaires_. Do you know what, I'll let you go now ... (she glanced at a little enamelled watch, stuck in her belt) ... till three o'clock ... I must let you rest. Go and play roulette.'

'I never play games of chance,' observed Sanin.

'Really? Why, you're a paragon. Though I don't either. It's stupid throwing away one's money when one's no chance. But go into the gambling saloon, and look at the faces. Very comic ones there are there. There's one old woman with a rustic headband and a moustache, simply delicious! Our prince there's another, a good one too. A majestic figure with a nose like an eagle's, and when he puts down a _thaler_, he crosses himself under his waistcoat. Read the papers, go a walk, do what you like, in fact. But at three o'clock I expect you ... _de pied ferme_. We shall have to dine a little earlier. The theatre among these absurd Germans begins at half-past six. She held out her hand. '_Sans rancune, n'est-ce pas?_'

'Really, Maria Nikolaevna, what reason have I to be annoyed?'

'Why, because I've been tormenting you. Wait a little, you'll see.

There's worse to come,' she added, fluttering her eyelids, and all her dimples suddenly came out on her flushing cheeks. 'Till we meet!'

Sanin bowed and went out. A merry laugh rang out after him, and in the looking-gla.s.s which he was pa.s.sing at that instant, the following scene was reflected: Maria Nikolaevna had pulled her husband's fez over his eyes, and he was helplessly struggling with both hands.

x.x.xVIII

Oh, what a deep sigh of delight Sanin heaved, when he found himself in his room! Indeed, Maria Nikolaevna had spoken the truth, he needed rest, rest from all these new acquaintances, collisions, conversations, from this suffocating atmosphere which was affecting his head and his heart, from this enigmatical, uninvited intimacy with a woman, so alien to him! And when was all this taking place? Almost the day after he had learnt that Gemma loved him, after he had become betrothed to her. Why, it was sacrilege! A thousand times he mentally asked forgiveness of his pure chaste dove, though he could not really blame himself for anything; a thousand times over he kissed the cross she had given him. Had he not the hope of bringing the business, for which he had come to Wiesbaden, to a speedy and successful conclusion, he would have rushed off headlong, back again, to sweet Frankfort, to that dear house, now his own home, to her, to throw himself at her loved feet.... But there was no help for it! The cup must be drunk to the dregs, he must dress, go to dinner, and from there to the theatre.... If only she would let him go to-morrow!

One other thing confounded him, angered him; with love, with tenderness, with grateful transport he dreamed of Gemma, of their life together, of the happiness awaiting him in the future, and yet this strange woman, this Madame Polozov persistently floated--no! not floated, poked herself, so Sanin with special vindictiveness expressed it--_poked herself_ in and faced his eyes, and he could not rid himself of her image, could not help hearing her voice, recalling her words, could not help being aware even of the special scent, delicate, fresh and penetrating, like the scent of yellow lilies, that was wafted from her garments. This lady was obviously fooling him, and trying in every way to get over him ... what for? what did she want?

Could it be merely the caprice of a spoiled, rich, and most likely unprincipled woman? And that husband! What a creature he was! What were his relations with her? And why would these questions keep coming into his head, when he, Sanin, had really no interest whatever in either Polozov or his wife? Why could he not drive away that intrusive image, even when he turned with his whole soul to another image, clear and bright as G.o.d's sunshine? How, through those almost divine features, dare _those others_ force themselves upon him? And not only that; those other features smiled insolently at him. Those grey, rapacious eyes, those dimples, those snake-like tresses, how was it all that seemed to cleave to him, and to shake it all off, and fling it away, he was unable, had not the power?

Nonsense! nonsense! to-morrow it would all vanish and leave no trace.... But would she let him go to-morrow?

Yes.... All these question he put to himself, but the time was moving on to three o'clock, and he put on a black frockcoat and after a turn in the park, went in to the Polozovs!

He found in their drawing-room a secretary of the legation, a very tall light-haired German, with the profile of a horse, and his hair parted down the back of his head (at that time a new fashion), and ...

oh, wonder! whom besides? Von Donhof, the very officer with whom he had fought a few days before! He had not the slightest expectation of meeting him there and could not help being taken aback. He greeted him, however.

'Are you acquainted?' asked Maria Nikolaevna who had not failed to notice Sanin's embarra.s.sment.

'Yes ... I have already had the honour,' said Donhof, and bending a little aside, in an undertone he added to Maria Nikolaevna, with a smile, 'The very man ... your compatriot ... the Russian ...'

'Impossible!' she exclaimed also in an undertone; she shook her finger at him, and at once began to bid good-bye both to him and the long secretary, who was, to judge by every symptom, head over ears in love with her; he positively gaped every time he looked at her. Donhof promptly took leave with amiable docility, like a friend of the family who understands at half a word what is expected of him; the secretary showed signs of restiveness, but Maria Nikolaevna turned him out without any kind of ceremony.

'Get along to your sovereign mistress,' she said to him (there was at that time in Wiesbaden a certain princess di Monaco, who looked surprisingly like a _cocotte_ of the poorer sort); 'what do you want to stay with a plebeian like me for?'

'Really, dear madam,' protested the luckless secretary,' all the princesses in the world....'

But Maria Nikolaevna was remorseless, and the secretary went away, parting and all.

Maria Nikolaevna was dressed that day very much 'to her advantage,'

as our grandmothers used to say. She wore a pink glace silk dress, with sleeves _a la Fontange_, and a big diamond in each ear. Her eyes sparkled as much as her diamonds; she seemed in a good humour and in high spirits.

She made Sanin sit beside her, and began talking to him about Paris, where she was intending to go in a few days, of how sick she was of Germans, how stupid they were when they tried to be clever, and how inappropriately clever sometimes when they were stupid; and suddenly, point-blank, as they say--_a brule pourpoint_--asked him, was it true that he had fought a duel with the very officer who had been there just now, only a few days ago, on account of a lady?

'How did you know that?' muttered Sanin, dumfoundered.

'The earth is full of rumours, Dimitri Pavlovitch; but anyway, I know you were quite right, perfectly right, and behaved like a knight. Tell me, was that lady your betrothed?'

Sanin slightly frowned ...