They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [69]
Adrienne was thinking of this as she turned the angle of the house. Then, still very slowly, she started to walk along the broad terrace that stretched the full length of the south front of the house. On this side there were five long windows overlooking the town. The shutters of four of them were closed and the bright sunlight painted lilac blue shadows below each of the louvred wooden slats. One window was open and when Adrienne reached it she found herself face to face with her mother-in-law who was sitting, barely five paces away, just inside the room. The low window-sill barely reached the level of her knees and she sat there, bolt upright, dressed entirely in black, like a statue of mourning. One shrivelled mummy-like hand lay in her lap. That, and the narrow lace collar at her throat, were the only touches of light to relieve the darkness of her figure. Even her thin face seemed almost as dark as her dress despite the sunlight which lit up her uplifted chin and prominent cheekbones. It was like light on dull bronze, and in some frightening way she had an ancient Egyptian look, calm, mysterious and menacing. She could have been an icon carved from granite so black that it absorbed any light that fell on it.
Adrienne stood in front of her as if petrified; but the old woman’s Tartar-like eyes never moved and never showed any glint or sign that she even noticed that anyone was there.
Adrienne did not know how long she stood there, but it felt like an eternity during every minute of which she expected to hear a sharp reprimand, evil malignant words that would be followed by the old woman’s leaping to her feet uttering a curse. But Countess Uzdy remained as mute and motionless as if carved from stone.
Gradually Adrienne realized that her mother-in-law was not looking at her and probably had not even seen her. Her eyes were fixed on something infinitely far away, beyond the far horizon and, like a stone idol, saw nothing that was in front of her. Even so Adrienne did not move. She stood there mesmerized as if bewitched by those sightless pebble-like eyes.
Someone touched her shoulder. It was Maier; and only then did Adrienne come back to reality. Silently she backed away and only when the old woman was hidden by the window frame could she bring herself to turn round and follow the old servant back round the corner of the house. Then she turned to him and said, ‘Let us go inside where we can sit down and talk over what is to be done … I must leave again this evening.’
They went indoors to the room which Maier used as an office. Here the old maid came to pay her respects to Adrienne who then went over all the accounts, checking the bills and receipts more as a matter of form than necessity, for Adrienne knew how trustworthy both these old retainers were. It was a welcome relief to have to think about such humdrum matters for, as she did so, all the accumulated tension slowly left her so that she was able to discuss in a matter-of-fact way everything that concerned the future running of the house, the expenses, the sending of the necessary funds, in fact everything that was needed for Countess Clémence’s continued residence at Meran. Finally they discussed her medical needs, the nursing, the doctors’ visits and how they diagnosed the old woman’s condition. Now Adrienne was at last able to ask Maier what the outlook was and whether there was any likelihood of recovery.
Maier, who was sitting on the other side of the table tidying away the papers he had just been showing his mistress, looked up sadly and in a slow ponderous manner explained that the specialist who had been attending