The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [262]
‘Immediately? Very well. Mr Starski is a very interesting man.’
She leaned backwards as though about to fall off, and kept looking into Wokulski’s eyes: ‘Ah!’ she cried with a laugh, ‘I didn’t expect to hear such a banal remark from you … Mr Starski interesting? To whom? To such geese as Ewelina, perhaps, but to me, for example, he has ceased to be.’
‘And yet ….’
‘No “And yets” …. He was at one time, when I intended to become the victim of marriage. Fortunately, my husband was civil enough to die early, and Mr Starski is so uncomplicated that with my experience, I saw through him within a week. He always wears that beard à la Archduke Rudolph, and has the same manner of seducing women. His glances, his hints, his mysteries are as familiar to me as the cut of his jacket. He always avoids girls without dowries, is cynical with married ladies, and sighs to eligible young women who are about to get married. Good God, how many such have I met in my life! Today I need something new.’
‘In that case, Mr Ochocki …’
‘Oh yes, Ochocki is interesting, and might even be dangerous — but for that to happen, I’d need to be born again. He’s a man not of this world, while I belong to it heart and soul. How naive he is, and how splendid! He believes in ideal love, he’d shut himself up in his laboratory and be certain it would never betray him. No, he’s not for me.’
Suddenly she exclaimed: ‘What is wrong with this saddle? The girth has come unfastened … Pray look.’
Wokulski jumped off his horse: ‘Will you dismount?’ he asked.
‘Certainly not. Please look at it.’
He went around to the right side — the girth was tightly fastened: ‘Not there! Here! Something is wrong, near the stirrup.’
He hesitated, then drew aside her riding-habit and put his hand under the saddle. Suddenly the blood rushed to his head: the widow had moved her leg in such a way that her knee touched Wokulski’s face: ‘Well?’ she asked impatiently, ‘what is it?’
‘Nothing,’ he replied, ‘the girth is tight.’
‘Sir, you kissed my leg!’ she exclaimed.
‘No!’
She struck her horse with the crop and flew off at a gallop, exclaiming: ‘A fool — or a stone!’
Wokulski remounted slowly. Inexpressible remorse seized his heart when he thought: ‘Does Izabela go riding? And who adjusts her saddle?’
When he caught up with Mrs Wąsowska, she burst out laughing: ‘Ha ha ha! You are priceless!’ Then she began speaking in a low, metallic voice: ‘A fine day has been written in the history of my life — I played the role of Potiphar’s wife, and found a Joseph … Ha ha ha! Only one thing alarms me: that you don’t appreciate how I can turn a man’s head. At a moment like that, a hundred other men in your place would have protested they couldn’t live without me, that I have robbed them of their peace of mind, and so forth … But he says “No” brusquely … For that one “No” you ought to gain a seat in the kingdom of Heaven among the innocents. A high chair, with a bar in front! Ha ha ha!’
She rocked to and fro on her saddle, laughing.
‘But what would you have done, had I replied like the rest?’
‘I’d have had one more triumph.’
‘And what would that have meant to you?’
‘I am filling up the emptiness of my life. Out of ten men who propose to me, I choose the one who seems most interesting, I play with him, dream of him …’
‘And then?’
‘I consider the next ten, and choose one.’
‘How often?’
‘Once a month. What would you?’ she added with a shrug, ‘this is love in the age of steam and electricity.’
‘I see. This even reminds me of the railroad.’
‘Because it rushes along like a storm, and gives off sparks?’
‘No. It travels fast, and picks up as many passengers as it can.’
‘Mr Wokulski!’
‘I did not wish to offend you, madam: I only said what I heard.’
Mrs Wąsowska bit her lip. They rode in silence for a time. After a while, Mrs Wąsowska spoke: ‘I have placed you, sir: you’re a pedant. Every evening — I don’t know when, but certainly before ten o’clock