"You are quite right. You should have driven him out."
I must say for my part, that my last two glasses of wine evaporated
from me at the mention of _Maria's_ name, and our attempted
conversation was marked by continued evaporation of the wine I
drank, like perfume out of a bottle. I have always regarded wine as
unreliable matter. We found ourselves again listening to the storm and
I remarked:
"The wind seems to be growing more violent, Signor Magnus."
"Yes, the wind seems to be growing more violent, Mr. Wondergood. But
you must admit that I warned you beforehand, Mr. Wondergood."
"Of what did you warn me beforehand, Signor Magnus?"
He seized his knees with his white hands and directed upon me the gaze
of a snake charmer.... Ah, he did not know that I myself had extracted
my poisoned teeth and was quite harmless, like a mummy in a museum!
Finally, he realized that there was no use beating about the bush, and
came straight to the point:
"I warned you in regard to _Maria_," he said slowly, with peculiar
insinuation. "You remember that I did not desire your acquaintance
and expressed it plainly enough? You have not forgotten _what_ I
told you about Maria, of her fatal influence upon the soul? But you
were bold and insistent and I yielded. And now you ask us--me and my
daughter--to view the highly exhilarating spectacle of a gentleman in
the process of disintegration, one who asks nothing, who reproaches no
one, but can find no solace until every one has smelled his wound....
I do not want to repeat your expression, Mr. Wondergood. It has a bad
odor. Yes, sir, you have spoken quite frankly of your...neighbors and
I am sincerely glad you have finally abandoned this cheap play at love
and humanity.... You have so many other pastimes! I confess, however,
that I am not at all overjoyed at your intention of presenting to _us_
the _sediment_ of a gentleman. It seems to me, sir, that you made a
mistake in leaving America and your...canning business: dealing with
people requires quite a different sort of ability."
He laughed! He was almost driving Me out, this little man, and I, who
write my "I" in a super-capital, I listened to him humbly and meekly.
It was divinely ridiculous! Here is another detail for those who love
the ridiculous: before his tirade began my eyes and the cigar between
my teeth were quite bravely and nonchalantly directed toward the
ceiling, but they changed their attitude before he had finished....
To this very moment I feel the taste of that miserable dangling,
extinguished cigar. I was choking with laughter...that is I did not
yet know whether to choke with laughter or with wrath. Or, without
choking at all, to ask him for an umbrella and leave. Ah, he was at
_home_, he was on his _own_ ground, this angry, black bearded man. He
knew how to manage himself in this situation and he sang a _solo_, not
a _duet_, like the inseparable Satan of Eternity and Wondergood of
Illinois!
"Sir!" I said with dignity: "There seems to be a sad misunderstanding
here. You see before you Satan in _human form_...you understand? He
went out for an evening stroll and was lost in the forest...in the
forest, sir, in the forest! Won't you be good enough, sir, to direct
him to the nearest road to Eternity? Ah, Ah! Thank you. _So_ I thought
myself. Farewell!"
Of course, I really did not say that. I was _silent_ and gave the
floor to Wondergood. And this is what that respectable gentleman said,
dropping his wet, dead cigar:
"The devil take it! You are quite right, Magnus. Thank you, old man.
Yes, you warned me quite honestly, but I preferred to play a lone
hand. Now I am a bankrupt and at your mercy. I shall have no objection
if you should order the removal of the _sediment_ of the gentleman."
I thought that without waiting for a stretcher, Magnus would simply
throw the sediment out of the window, but his generosity proved quite
surprising: he looked at Me with pity and even stretched out his hand.
"You are suffering very much, Mr. Wondergood?"--a question quite
difficult to answer for the celebrated _duet_! I blinked and shrugged
my shoulders. This appeared to satisfy Magnus and for a few moments
we were both silent. I do not know of what Magnus was thinking. I
thought of nothing: I simply examined with great interest, the walls,
the ceiling, books, pictures--all the furnishings of this human
habitation. I was particularly absorbed in the electric light upon
which I fixed my attention: why does _it_ burn and give light?
"I am waiting for your answer, Mr. Wondergood."
So he was really expecting me to reply? Very well.
"It's very simple, Magnus...you warned me, I admit. To-morrow
Toppi will pack my trunks and I shall go back to America to resume
my...business."
"And the Cardinal?"
"What Cardinal? Ah, yes!... Cardinal X. and my billions. I remember.
But--don't gaze at me in such astonishment, Magnus. I am sick of it."
"What are you sick of, Mr. Wondergood?"
"_It._ Six secretaries. Brainless old women, snuff, and my Dante
Inferno, where they take me for my walks. Don't look at me so sternly,
Magnus. Probably one could have made better wine out of my billions,
but I managed to produce only sour beer. Why did you refuse to help
me? Of course, you hate human beings, I forgot."
"But you _love_ them?"
"What shall I say, Magnus? No, I am rather indifferent to them. Don't
look at me so...pityingly. By God, it isn't worth it! Yes, I am
indifferent to them. There are, there were and there will be so many
of them that it isn't really worth while...."
"So I am to conclude that you _lied_?"
"Look not at me but at my packed trunks. No, I did not lie, not
entirely. You know, I wanted to do something interesting for the sake
of amusement and so I let loose this...this emotion...."
"So it was only _play_?..."
I blinked again and shrugged my shoulders. I like this method of
reply to complex questions. And _this_ face of Signor Thomas Magnus
appealed to me, too; his long, oval face recompensed me slightly for
my theatrical failures and...Maria. I must add that by this time
there was a fresh cigar in my mouth.
"You said that in your past there are some dark pages.... What's the
trouble, Mr. Wondergood?"
"Oh! it was a slight exaggeration. Nothing in particular, Magnus. I
beg your pardon for disturbing you needlessly, but at that time I
thought I should have spoken thus for the sake of style...."
"Style?"
"Yes, and the laws of contrast. The present is always brighter with a
dark past as a background...you understand? But I have already told
you, Magnus, that my prank had little result. In the place I come from
they have quite a mistaken conception of the pleasures of the game
here. I shall have to disabuse them when I get back. For a moment I
was taken in by the old monkey, but its method of fleecing people is
rather ancient and too certain...like a counting house. I prefer an
element of risk."
"Fleecing people?"
"Don't we despise them, Magnus? And if the game has failed, let us not
at least deny ourselves the pleasure of speaking frankly. I am very
glad. But I am tired of this prattle and, with your permission, I will
take another glass of wine."
There was not even the resemblance of a smile on Thomas Magnus' face.
I mention the smile for the sake of...style. We passed the next
half hour in silence, broken only by the shrieks and yells of Mad
Mars and the even pacing of Magnus. With his hands behind him and
disregarding me entirely he paced the room with even step: eight
steps forward, eight steps backward. Apparently he must have been in
jail at one time and for quite a while: for he had the knack of the
experienced prisoner of creating distances out of a few meters. I
permitted myself to yawn slightly and thus drew the attention of my
host back to myself. But Magnus kept quiet for another moment, until
the _following words_ rang out through the air and well nigh hurled me
out of my seat:
"But _Maria_ loves you. Of course, you do not know that?"