They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [164]
Balint was wondering whether she had studied her effects, or whether they were natural and inborn, when across the room from him he saw an elderly woman come in and stand by the door of the apartment.
She was of middle height and rather thin. She wore a dress of smooth black silk. Her hair must once have been light brown but there remained now only a few strands of this colour: the rest was bluish silver and there was a great deal of it piled in two thick tresses into the form of a crown much in the style that can be seen in portraits of the Empress Elisabeth, Queen of Hungary. On each side of her face some tiny short curls framed her high slightly oriental cheekbones. It was an interesting face, pale and elegant, and its pallor was accentuated by a startling pair of black eyebrows that just met in the middle. Though obviously no longer young, she held herself very straight, and so distinguished was her bearing that beside her the splendid La Pantera might have been just a pretty chambermaid.
She greeted no one and did not seem to expect to be greeted herself. She was like a soldier, on duty and waiting for orders.
‘J’ai tout rassemblé, madame – I’ve collected everything. Here they are, il ne manque rien – there is nothing missing,’ and she passed her hand over the sizeable morocco-leather bag that hung from her arm. It was clear that she was speaking of the diamonds which were always in her charge. ‘Do you need anything else?’
‘No. Not now. You can go back to the hotel, Contessa … No, wait a moment! Take this with you, please!’ replied La Pantera. Then she turned to Zalamery and said: ‘You won’t mind if I take this off now, will you?’ as she touched the diamond dog-collar he had given her.
‘Would you undo it for me?’ she asked and bent her lovely neck to Zalamery’s broad chest.
It was not easy for him, and a few moments passed before his thick fingers managed to release the clasp.
While this was happening the Contessa stood quietly by without moving. Only her eyes moved as she looked round the table and Balint felt that they lingered for a moment when they came to him. It was almost as if she would have liked to look longer at him. He was attracted by her looks and by those light grey eyes set under the dark eyebrows. He felt he had somewhere seen that glance before, but it was only a fleeting impression and soon passed away.
Kristof handed the diamond collar to the Contessa. The lock of the leather bag clicked to; then she looked once more at Abady and for a moment stared hard at him. Then she turned back to the dancer and said, ‘Bonne nuit, madame. Bonne nuit, messieurs,’ and with a slight inclination of her head with its massive crown of silver hair, she left the room.
Balint was not sure if he had imagined it, but it had seemed to him that when the Contessa was saying goodbye to the men in the room she was really only saying it to him. Who was she? Who could she be? Had he ever seen her before?
All around him the conversation started up again, but Balint could think of nothing but the woman who had just gone out.
A few moments later a waiter came in and handed a visiting card to Abady. On it was printed the name ‘Comtesse Julie Ladossa’ and on the other side had been written a few words in Hungarian, ‘Please come out for a moment’. Julie Ladossa! She was Laszlo Gyeroffy’s mother!
He went out at once and found her sitting on one of the sofas that lined the walls of the ante-room. The morocco-leather bag was on her knees and resting on it were her hands, long narrow aristocratic hands that were still beautiful even if lined with age. They were an artist’s hands, Laszlo’s hands. Balint sat down beside her.
‘Please don’t be offended that I asked you to come