The play lasted over an hour longer, but Maria Nikolaevna and Sanin
soon gave up looking at the stage. A conversation sprang up between
them again, and went on the same lines as before; only this time Sanin
was less silent. Inwardly he was angry with himself and with Maria
Nikolaevna; he tried to prove to her all the inconsistency of her
“theory,” as though she cared for theories! He began arguing with her,
at which she was secretly rejoiced; if a man argues, it means that he
is giving in or will give in. He had taken the bait, was giving way,
had left off keeping shyly aloof! She retorted, laughed, agreed, mused
dreamily, attacked him … and meanwhile his face and her face were close
together, his eyes no longer avoided her eyes…. Those eyes of hers
seemed to ramble, seemed to hover over his features, and he smiled in
response to them—a smile of civility, but still a smile. It was so much
gained for her that he had gone off into abstractions, that he was
discoursing upon truth in personal relations, upon duty, the sacredness
of love and marriage…. It is well known that these abstract
propositions serve admirably as a beginning … as a starting-point….
People who knew Maria Nikolaevna well used to maintain that when her
strong and vigorous personality showed signs of something soft and
modest, something almost of maidenly shamefacedness, though one
wondered where she could have got it from … then … then, things were
taking a dangerous turn.
Things had apparently taken such a turn for Sanin…. He would have felt
contempt for himself, if he could have succeeded in concentrating his
attention for one instant; but he had not time to concentrate his mind
nor to despise himself.
She wasted no time. And it all came from his being so very
good-looking! One can but exclaim, No man knows what may be his making
or his undoing!
The play was over. Maria Nikolaevna asked Sanin to put on her shawl and
did not stir, while he wrapped the soft fabric round her really queenly
shoulders. Then she took his arm, went out into the corridor, and
almost cried out aloud. At the very door of the box Dönhof sprang up
like some apparition; while behind his back she got a glimpse of the
figure of the Wiesbaden critic. The “literary man’s” oily face was
positively radiant with malignancy.
“Is it your wish, madam, that I find you your carriage?” said the young
officer addressing Maria Nikolaevna with a quiver of ill-disguised fury
in his voice.
“No, thank you,” she answered … “my man will find it. Stop!” she added
in an imperious whisper, and rapidly withdrew drawing Sanin along with
her.
“Go to the devil! Why are you staring at me?” Dönhof roared suddenly at
the literary man. He had to vent his feelings upon some one!
“_Sehr gut! sehr gut!_” muttered the literary man, and shuffled off.
Maria Nikolaevna’s footman, waiting for her in the entrance, found her
carriage in no time. She quickly took her seat in it; Sanin leapt in
after her. The doors were slammed to, and Maria Nikolaevna exploded in
a burst of laughter.
“What are you laughing at?” Sanin inquired.
“Oh, excuse me, please … but it struck me: what if Dönhof were to have
another duel with you … on my account…. wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“Are you very great friends with him?” Sanin asked.
“With him? that boy? He’s one of my followers. You needn’t trouble
yourself about him!”
“Oh, I’m not troubling myself at all.”
Maria Nikolaevna sighed. “Ah, I know you’re not. But listen, do you
know what, you’re such a darling, you mustn’t refuse me one last
request. Remember in three days’ time I am going to Paris, and you are
returning to Frankfort…. Shall we ever meet again?”
“What is this request?”
“You can ride, of course?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, to-morrow morning I’ll take you with me, and we’ll go a
ride together out of the town. We’ll have splendid horses. Then we’ll
come home, wind up our business, and amen! Don’t be surprised, don’t
tell me it’s a caprice, and I’m a madcap—all that’s very likely—but
simply say, I consent.”
Maria Nikolaevna turned her face towards him. It was dark in the
carriage, but her eyes glittered even in the darkness.
“Very well, I consent,” said Sanin with a sigh.
“Ah! You sighed!” Maria Nikolaevna mimicked him. “That means to say, as
you’ve begun, you must go on to the bitter end. But no, no…. You’re
charming, you’re good, and I’ll keep my promise. Here’s my hand,
without a glove on it, the right one, for business. Take it, and have
faith in its pressure. What sort of a woman I am, I don’t know; but I’m
an honest fellow, and one can do business with me.”
Sanin, without knowing very well what he was doing, lifted the hand to
his lips. Maria Nikolaevna softly took it, and was suddenly still, and
did not speak again till the carriage stopped.
She began getting out…. What was it? Sanin’s fancy? or did he really
feel on his cheek a swift burning kiss?
“Till to-morrow!” whispered Maria Nikolaevna on the steps, in the light
of the four tapers of a candelabrum, held up on her appearance by the
gold-laced door-keeper. She kept her eyes cast down. “Till to-morrow!”
When he got back to his room, Sanin found on the table a letter from
Gemma. He felt a momentary dismay, and at once made haste to rejoice
over it to disguise his dismay from himself. It consisted of a few
lines. She was delighted at the “successful opening of negotiations,”
advised him to be patient, and added that all at home were well, and
were already rejoicing at the prospect of seeing him back again. Sanin
felt the letter rather stiff, he took pen and paper, however … and
threw it all aside again. “Why write? I shall be back myself to-morrow
… it’s high time!”
He went to bed immediately, and tried to get to sleep as quickly as
possible. If he had stayed up and remained on his legs, he would
certainly have begun thinking about Gemma, and he was for some reason …
ashamed to think of her. His conscience was stirring within him. But he
consoled himself with the reflection that to-morrow it would all be
over for ever, and he would take leave for good of this feather-brained
lady, and would forget all this rotten idiocy!…
Weak people in their mental colloquies, eagerly make use of strong
expressions.
_Et puis … cela ne tire pas à conséquence!_