The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [113]
‘The Łęcki property is to be auctioned within the next few days…’
‘I know it,’ the lawyer interrupted, ‘the walls are quite solid, the woodwork will have to be altered gradually, the garden is in reserve…Baroness Krzeszowska is prepared to pay up to sixty thousand for it, no other competition—we shall get it for seventy thousand at most.’
‘For ninety thousand, perhaps even more,’ Wokulski put in.
‘How so?’ the lawyer sat up in his chair, ‘the Baroness will not go beyond sixty thousand, nobody is buying houses these days…A very good stroke of business…’
‘As far as I’m concerned, it would be good business at ninety thousand…’
‘Better at sixty thousand, though…’
‘I do not want to rob my future partner.’
‘Your partner?’ the lawyer exclaimed, ‘but Mr Łęcki is a confirmed bankrupt; you would simply harm him by giving him several thousand roubles. I know the views of the Countess, his sister, on this matter. As soon as Łęcki is without a penny to his name, his charming daughter—whom we all adore—will marry the Baron or the marshal…
Wokulski’s eyes gleamed so strangely that the lawyer stopped short. He eyed him, pondered…Suddenly he clapped one hand to his forehead: ‘My dear sir,’ he said, ‘you are determined to give ninety thousand roubles for that hovel?’
‘Yes,’ Wokulski replied heavily.
‘Sixty thousand from ninety thousand…Miss Łęcka’s dowry,’ the lawyer muttered, ‘aha…’ His face and attitude changed out of all recognition. He puffed a great cloud of smoke out of the big amber pipe, settled back in his chair and, with a gesture in Wokulski’s direction, said: ‘We understand one another, Mr Wokulski. I admit that only five minutes ago I suspected you—goodness knows what of, for your business dealings are always above-board. But now, believe me, you have in me only a well-wisher and—an ally.’
‘I do not understand you now,’ Wokulski whispered, looking away. Brick-red spots appeared on the lawyer’s cheeks. He rang, the servant came in. ‘Let no one in till I call,’ he said.
‘Very good, sir,’ said the gloomy servant.
Again they were left alone.
‘Stanisław…’ the lawyer began, ‘you know, don’t you, what our aristocracy and their hangers-on are? They’re a few thousand people who are sucking our entire country dry, squandering money abroad, bringing back the worst vices imaginable and infecting the middle classes with them, as if they were healthy, and they themselves are inevitably dying out—economically, physiologically and morally. If they could be forced to work, if they could be cross-bred with other levels of society—there would perhaps be some advantage to be gained from them, for after all they are more subtle organisms than the rest of us. You see, my dear sir—cross-breeding, yes…but not throwing away thirty thousand roubles to support the likes of them. As for the cross-breeding—I’ll help you: but as for throwing away thirty thousand roubles—no!’
‘I do not understand you,’ said Wokulski quietly.
‘You understand me, but do not trust me. Mistrust is a great virtue, I would not cure you of it. Let me say this much: Łęcki, the bankrupt, may become the relative even of a tradesman, and still more of a tradesman with genteel connections…But not Łęcki with thirty thousand roubles in his pockets!’
‘My dear sir,’ Wokulski interrupted, ‘will you take part in the auction of this house on my behalf?’
‘I shall, but I’ll only go a few thousand roubles above the amount Mme Krzeszowska will pay. Forgive me, Mr Wokulski, but I am not going to bid against myself.’
‘Suppose a third bidder can be found?’
‘Ha! In that case I will outdo him, in order to humour your whim.’
Wokulski rose. ‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘for your few frank words. You are right, but I have right on my side, too. I’ll bring you