“No, no, Hortènsia, I will buy it for what it’s worth … for what it’s worth today …”
“Stop, dear. I’ve always been a little extravagant. I think I’m a little too old for a change of temperament now.”
It must be noted that Hortènsia was having a very dark afternoon. It must also be noted that Hortènsia knew perfectly well what was going on between Conxa Pujol and Guillem de Lloberola, but for some reason Hortènsia was a sentimental creature with a penchant for drama. And this is why Hortènsia proceeded to speak in this way:
“But be frank with me, now: you’re interested in the Lloberola tapestry for something more important than its size …”
“I told you, it means a lot to me …”.
“Forgive me if I’m sticking my nose where it’s not wanted, but I’m almost twice your age, Conxa. What I mean to say is that I’m on my way out, and I may have a bit of a right to give you some advice, as a good friend …”
“You know you’re the only one I consider to be a good friend. But I don’t know what you have in mind …”
“Oh no, Conxa, I have nothing in mind. It just occurred to me that perhaps the person who is really interested in this tapestry might not be you, exactly …”
“You’re mistaken, Hortènsia. And if some slander has reached your ears, I will speak to you with my heart in my hand …”
“Oh no, Conxa, please, by no means … Forgive me … Not at all …”
“The person you imagine …”
“No, no, no, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I believe you, of course I do …”
“But I want to tell you. The person you have in mind doesn’t know a thing about any of this. It’s possible he doesn’t even remember that this tapestry that belonged to his grandparents exists … The family doesn’t concern him at all …”
“Well, I don’t know him. I think he came to a party here once, many years ago. Yes, a short time before your husband’s death. The current generation, you might say I’ve lost sight of them entirely. His sister Josefina is the only one I occasionally run into at the golf club … As you can imagine, anything I might know is just hearsay …”
“In our world, Hortènsia, hearsay is usually vilification. You know that better than I do.”
“Indeed, indeed. I know it only too well, imagine …”
“Well, for that very reason, Hortènsia. I have always admired you because you’ve been an independent woman, because you’ve laughed off other people’s criticism. And as for me, I have done my best, indeed, I am doing my best, to follow in your footsteps. I don’t give a hoot if people criticize me. They can say whatever they want. Your tapestry means something to me because if I have it in my house, I will never think of it as ‘stolen,’ you see? I’m thirty-six years old, Hortènsia, and I think I can still have a child who will bear the same name as that old gentleman, do you understand? That old man who cried …”
“But it’s true then, Conxa?”
“It’s true. I’m going to marry him. Or to be precise, we will be married in four months; that’s what we’ve decided …”
“Forgive me for saying so, Conxa, but I think you’re making a terrible mistake.”
“Do you know him?”
“No, no, I’ve already told you I don’t. But I don’t see any need for you to get married. You are running the risk of being very, very, miserable …”
“I don’t understand.”
“Listen. Is this young man your lover, yes or no? Are you ashamed to admit it? If my question is a bit too crude, forgive me … but at my age I think you can forgive me for being direct.”
“All right, Hortènsia, I have no reason to deny it … He is my lover.”
“Well, then, Conxa, what more do you want? What need do you have to complicate things? Isn’t he yours? Isn’t he truly yours? Didn’t you tell me that you don’t care what people say?”
“To a point, Hortènsia, only to a point.”
“No, you’re not being honest with me. If you’re marrying him it’s because you feel obligated by something that is not precisely public opinion. I am naive, Conxa, but not that naive.”
“You will never understand this, but I will try to explain why I am getting married. Guillem is in a world of his own, I see this. Sometimes he eludes me, I can’t control him, and I need to keep him close to me, by my side. And he needs me, too, for many reasons, do you see? If he is my husband, our situation will change, he will be more centered, he will feel more attached to me than he does now …”
“Or just the opposite, Conxa, just the opposite. I’m starting to realize that you’re more romantic than I am …”
“Maybe I am. But there’s something else. As long as we’re being frank, I’m not ashamed to tell you. I have noticed that some people, no matter how they try to hide it, can’t help but look askance and give us the cold shoulder when they see me talking with him somewhere. I’ve heard talk about the reputation he’s earned and the reputation I’m earning …”
“But, Conxa, didn’t you say all that didn’t matter? For God’s sake, don’t go on …”
“Well, now it’s a question of pride. I want him to be accepted as my husband in everyone’s eyes, with my head held high. I want the satisfaction of seeing everyone who goes around calling him an unscrupulous gigolo and me a degenerate having to invite him into their homes and fawn over him. Don’t you see? They’ll have to respect him, even if it’s only for my money, because, as you know, Guillem is penniless.”
“You are getting married … Or to put it another way, you are using your money to buy a husband, to buy your reputation and that of a man whom you can’t do without. In this regard, then, well, my way of thinking was, indeed, more romantic … You are a modern woman, Conxa, oh yes, much more modern than I! You think that in a year, or two, or perhaps less, this fellow will be respected as your husband and no one will think of him as your gigolo …”