The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [318]
‘God grant that she does.’
‘And Staś will be happy.’
‘Hm …’
I bade farewell to the doctor full of hope. I love Mrs Stawska, that I do, but I’d renounce her — for him. Providing it isn’t too late! But no …
Next afternoon, Szuman dropped in at the store; from the way he grinned and bit his lips, I saw something was grieving him and put him into an ironic mood. ‘Have you seen Staś?’ I asked, ‘today he’s …’
He drew me behind the cupboards, and began speaking in an irritable voice: ‘Just see what women can reduce even a man like Wokulski to! Do you know why he’s agitated!?’
‘Has he found out that Miss Łęcka has a lover?’
‘If only he had … That might be a radical cure, but she’s too sharp-witted to let such a naive admirer see what’s going on behind the scenes. No, something else is the matter. It’s comical, it’s humiliating to talk of …’ the doctor scowled. He struck his bald head, and went on in a lower voice: ‘Tomorrow the Prince is giving a ball, at which Miss Łęcka will of course be present. And do you know, sir, that as yet the Prince hasn’t invited Wokulski, although the invitations have been out two weeks? And would you credit that Staś is ill on this account?’
The doctor laughed shrilly, baring his decayed teeth, and I, goodness knows why, blushed for shame.
‘Now do you understand what sort of decline our man may be in?’ asked Szuman. ‘He’s been mortifying himself for two days because some prince or other hasn’t asked him to a ball. Him, our dear friend, our admirable Staś!’
‘Did he tell you this himself?’
‘Bah!’ the doctor muttered, ‘that’s the whole point, he didn’t. If he had the courage to tell me, then he’d be able to refuse a very late invitation.’
‘Do you think he’ll be invited?’
‘Hm! Not to invite him would cost fifteen per cent on the capital which the Prince has invested in the company. He’ll invite him because Wokulski is still a force to be reckoned with, thank God! But, knowing his weakness for Miss Łęcka, the Prince is out to irritate him, to play with him, like a dog that meat is shown to, then taken away from, in order to teach him to walk on his hindlegs. Never fear, sir, they won’t let him go, they’re too smart for him: but they want to tame him so that he will serve them, fetch and carry and even bite people they don’t like.’
He took his fur cap and left, with a brief nod. Always the eccentric.
The day passed wretchedly for me; I even made several errors in my accounts. Then, as I was thinking of closing the store, Staś appeared. He seemed to have grown thinner in the past few days. He greeted the clerks indifferently and began turning over papers on his desk. ‘Are you looking for something?’ I asked.
‘Wasn’t there a letter from the Prince?’ he asked, without looking me in the eye.
‘I sent all the letters on to your apartment.’
‘I know, but one might have been overlooked.’
I’d sooner have had a tooth out than hear this question. So Szuman was right. Staś mortified that the Prince hasn’t invited him to the ball!
When the store was closed and the gentlemen gone, Staś said: ‘What are you doing tonight? Won’t you invite me in for tea?’
Of course I gladly did so, and recalled the good old days, when Staś used to spend nearly every evening at my place. How far off those times are! Today he was gloomy, I was embarrassed, and although we both had a great deal to say, neither looked the other in the eye. We even began talking about the weather, and it was not until a glass of tea in which there was a half glass of brandy, that my tongue grew slightly loose. ‘They’re still saying,’ I remarked, ‘that you’re selling the store.’
‘I’ve almost sold it,’ replied Wokulski.
‘To the Jews?’
He jumped up, and thrusting his hands into his pockets, began walking around the room: ‘To whom else?’ he asked. ‘To those who don’t buy the store when they have money, or to those who would buy it because they’ve got none? The store is worth some hundred and twenty thousand roubles — am I to throw it in the mud?’
‘The Jews are ousting us all, something terrible …’
‘Out of what? Positions we don