The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [44]
‘That is why I bought them.’
Izabela’s flush intensified.
‘Does the future purchaser live in Warsaw?’ she asked.
‘I do not sell such things here, but abroad. There … they give better prices …’ he added, noticing a question in her eyes.
‘Do you expect to make a great deal of profit?’
‘I bought them for that purpose.’
‘Is that why my father does not know that the silver is in your possession?’ she asked ironically.
Wokulski’s lips quivered.
‘I bought the dinner-service and silver from a jeweller. I make no secret of it. I brought no third party into the transaction because one does not do that in trade.’
Despite these gruff replies, Izabela sighed with relief. Her eyes even darkened somewhat and lost their gleam of hatred.
‘If my father were to change his mind and wish to buy these objects back, what price would you ask?’
‘The price I paid. With a percentage of from six … to eight per annum, of course.’
‘So you would forgo the profit you expected? Why is that?’ she interrupted quickly.
‘Because, madam, trade does not depend merely on profit but on the circulation of cash.’
‘Goodbye and … thank you for the explanation,’ said Izabela, seeing that Flora had finished paying.
Wokulski bowed and seated himself at the ledger again.
When the footman had taken the packages and the ladies were seated in the carriage, Flora reproachfully asked: ‘Did you speak to that man, Izabela?’
‘Yes, and I do not regret having done so. He lied all the time, but…’
‘What do you mean by that “but”?’ asked Flora uneasily.
‘Don’t ask me … Don’t speak to me unless you want me to burst into tears in public …’
Presently she added in French: ‘Perhaps I did wrong in going there, but… it is all the same to me.’
‘Bela, I think,’ said her companion gravely, pouting, ‘that it would have been proper to discuss it with your father or aunt first.’
‘You mean,’ Izabela interposed, ‘that I must discuss it with the marshal or Baron? There will be time for that; today I still lack the courage.’
The conversation broke off. Silent, the ladies returned home. Izabela was irritable all day.
When Izabela had left the shop, Wokulski returned to his accounts and added up two long columns of figures without a single error. Half-way down the third column, he stopped and marvelled at the calm in his soul. How could he be so indifferent after a whole year of feverish yearning and outbursts of madness? Had he been cast from a ballroom into a forest, or from a stifling prison cell into cool, expansive fields, he could not have known more profound astonishment.
‘Obviously I have been almost insane for a year,’ Wokulski thought. ‘There was no risk, no sacrifice I would not have made for her — yet scarcely do I set eyes on her, than I am no longer even interested …
‘And the way she spoke to me! That contempt for a wretched tradesman … “Pay that gentleman!” … These great ladies are quite amusing: an idler, a card-sharp, even a criminal would be acceptable to them in society, providing he had a fine name, even though his features were those of his mother’s footman rather than his father. But a merchant is a pariah … However, what concern is it of mine: let them all rot …’
He added up another column without even noticing what was happening in the shop.
‘How does she know’, he went on to himself, ‘that it was I who bought the dinner-service and the silver …? And how anxious she was to find out whether I had paid more than it was worth! I would gladly have made her a present of this little trifle. I owe her a lifelong debt of gratitude, for had I not been insane about her, I would never have made a fortune but would have mouldered away behind a counter. But now perhaps I’ll miss all that misery, despair and hope … What a stupid life! … We’re all of us chasing a dream in our hearts and it is not until the dream escapes us that we realise it was an illusion … Well, I would never have believed there could be such a miraculous cure. An hour ago I was poisoned, but now I’m as calm as — and somehow empty, too, as if my soul and innards had left