The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [24]
Wokulski went on laughing.
‘You’re right, I’m not used to drink and the wine has gone to my head. But I’ve collected myself now. I’ll tell you simply that you are mistaken. And now, to spare me becoming tipsy, drink up — to the success of my plans.’
Ignacy poured a glass, and pressing Wokulski’s hand firmly said: ‘To the success of your great plan!’
‘Great to me, but in reality very humble.’
‘So be it,’ said Ignacy. ‘I’m so old I prefer to know no more. I’m so old that I only want a decent death. Give me your word that when that time comes …’
‘When that time comes, you’ll be my best man.’
‘I already was, once — and unhappily,’ said Ignacy.
‘With the widow Mincel, seven years ago?’
‘Fifteen years ago.’
‘Yes, you’re still the same as ever,’ laughed Wokulski.
‘So are you. To the success of your plans, then. Whatever they may be, I know one thing they must be worthy of you. And now — I say no more …’
At this, Ignacy drank his wine and threw the glass to the floor. It shattered with a crash which awoke Ir.
‘Let’s go into the shop,’ said Ignacy. ‘There are conversations after which it is good to talk business.’
He took the key and they went out. In the passageway wet snow engulfed them. Rzecki opened the door and lit some gas-jets.
‘What a fine display,’ Wokulski exclaimed. ‘Surely everything is new?’
‘Almost everything. You’d like to see … This porcelain. Pray observe …’
‘Later. Give me the ledger.’
‘Income?’
‘No, the debtors.’
Rzecki opened the bureau, took out the ledger and drew up a chair. Wokulski sat down and glanced down the list of names, seeking one name in it.
‘A hundred and forty roubles,’ he read aloud. ‘Well, that is not a great deal.’
‘Who’s that?’ Ignacy inquired. ‘Ah — Łęcki.’
‘Miss Łęcka has an account too … very good,’ Wokulski continued, peering at the page as if the writing were indistinct. ‘Hm … hm … the day before yesterday she bought a purse … Three roubles? … Surely you overcharged her?’
‘Not at all,’ said Ignacy. ‘It was a first-rate purse, I picked it out myself.’
‘What kind was it?’ Wokulski asked carelessly, as he closed the ledger.
‘One of these. Look, how elegant …’
‘She must have deliberated a great deal among them … She is said to be very particular in her tastes.’
‘Not at all, why should she deliberate?’ Ignacy replied. ‘She looked at this one …’
‘This one …’
‘And wanted to take that one …’
‘Ah, that one …’ Wokulski whispered, taking it up.
‘But I suggested another, in this style.’
‘This is a nice piece of work, all the same.’
‘The one I chose was still finer!’
‘I like this one very much. You know … I’ll take it myself, for mine is quite worn out …’
‘Wait, I’ll pick you a better one,’ Rzecki exclaimed.
‘Never mind. Show me other things, perhaps something else will come in useful.’
‘Cuff-links? A tie, galoshes, an umbrella …?’
‘I’ll take an umbrella … and a tie. Choose them yourself. I’ll be your only customer, and will pay cash.’
‘A very good method,’ Rzecki said, pleased. He rapidly took a tie out from a drawer and an umbrella from the window and handed them to Wokulski with a smile. ‘With your discount,’ he said, ‘as trade, you owe seven roubles. An excellent umbrella … Goodness me …’
‘Let us go back to your room,’ said Wokulski.
‘Won’t you look around the shop?’
‘Ah, what concern is …?’
‘Your own shop, this fine shop, of no concern to you?’ Ignacy asked in surprise.
‘How can you suppose that? … But I’m rather tired.’
‘Of course,’ said Rzecki, ‘you’re right. Let us go.’
He turned out the lights and closed the shop, letting Wokulski go first. In the passage, they met the wet snow again, and Paweł bringing dinner.
V
The Democratisation of a Gentleman and Dreams of a Society Lady
MR TOMASZ Łęcki, his only daughter Izabela and his cousin Flora, did not live in their own house, but rented an apartment of eight rooms near Aleje Ujazdowskie. There he had a drawing-room with three windows, his study, his daughter’s boudoir, a bedroom for himself, a bedroom for his daughter, a dining room, a room for Flora and a dressing-room, not to mention