Meanwhile, all that day quite decisive things were happening with us in the hotel. In the morning, before eleven o’clock, when grandmother was still at home, our people—that is, the general and des Grieux—resolved upon an ultimate step. Learning that grandmother had no thought of leaving, but, on the contrary, was setting out again for the vauxhall, the whole conclave of them (except for Polina) came to talk things over with her definitively and even openly. The general, trembling and his heart sinking in view of the terrible consequences for him, even overdid it: after half an hour of begging and pleading, and even having openly acknowledged everything, that is, all his debts, and even his passion for Mlle Blanche (he was totally lost), the general suddenly assumed a threatening tone and even began shouting and stamping his feet at grandmother; he shouted that she had disgraced their name, that she had become a scandal for the whole town, and finally…finally: “You have disgraced the name of Russia, madam!” shouted the general, “and there are police for that!” Grandmother finally drove him out with a stick (a real stick). That morning the general and des Grieux conferred once or twice more, interested precisely in whether it might in fact be possible to use the police. That is, thus and so, the unfortunate but venerable old lady has lost her wits, is gambling away her last money, and so on. In short, mightn’t it be possible to petition for some sort of custody or restriction?…But des Grieux only shrugged his shoulders and laughed in the face of the general, who was now pouring out complete drivel and running up and down the study. Finally, des Grieux waved his hand and disappeared somewhere. In the evening it turned out that he had left the hotel altogether, having first talked things over quite decisively and mysteriously with Mlle Blanche. As for Mlle Blanche, she had taken definitive measures that same morning: she had thrust the general away from her altogether and did not even allow him to come into her presence. When the general ran after her to the vauxhall and met her arm in arm with the little prince, neither she nor Mme la veuve Cominges recognized him. The little prince also did not bow to him. All that day Mlle Blanche probed and worked on the prince, so that he would finally declare himself decisively. But, alas! She was cruelly deceived in counting on the prince! This minor catastrophe took place in the evening; it was suddenly discovered that the prince was naked as a worm, and was counting on borrowing money from her on a promissory note and playing roulette. Blanche indignantly threw him out and locked herself in her room.
That same morning I went to see Mr. Astley, or, better to say, I spent the whole morning looking for Mr. Astley, but couldn’t find him anywhere. He was neither at home, nor in the vauxhall, nor in the park. He did not dine at his hotel that day. Between four and five, I suddenly saw him coming from the railway platform straight to the Hôtel d’Angleterre. He was hurrying and very preoccupied, though it was hard to make out the preoccupation or any sort of perplexity in his face. He offered me his hand affably, with his usual exclamation: “Ah!” but without stopping in the road and continuing on his way at a rather quick pace. I tagged along behind him; but he was somehow able to answer me in such a way that I didn’t manage to ask him about anything. Besides, for some reason I was terribly ashamed to ask about Polina; he didn’t ask a word about her himself. I told him about grandmother; he listened attentively and gravely, and shrugged his shoulders.
“She’ll lose everything,” I observed.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, “she already went to play earlier, as I was leaving, and so I knew for certain that she’d lose. If I have time I’ll stop by the vauxhall to have a look, because it’s curious…”
“Where did you go?” I cried, amazed that I hadn’t asked till then.
“I was in Frankfurt.”
“On business?”
“Yes, on business.”
Well, what more was there for me to ask? However, I was still walking beside him, but he suddenly turned into the Hôtel des Quatre Saisons, which stood on the road, nodded to me, and disappeared. On the way home I gradually realized that, even if I talked with him for two hours, I would learn decidedly nothing, because…I had nothing to ask him! Yes, of course, it was so! There was no way I could now formulate my question.
All that day, Polina either walked in the park with the children and the nanny, or sat at home. She had long been avoiding the general and barely spoke to him, at any rate about anything serious. I had long noticed it. But, knowing the situation the general was in that day, I thought he couldn’t pass her by, that is, it was impossible for there not to be any important family discussions. Nevertheless, when, on returning to the hotel after my conversation with Mr. Astley, I met Polina and the children, her face reflected the most untroubled calm, as if all the family storms had passed by her alone. In response to my bow she nodded her head. I came to my room totally angry.
Of course, after the incident with the Wurmerhelms, I avoided talking with her and never once got together with her. In that I was partly showing off and posturing; but as time went on, real indignation seethed in me more and more. Even if she didn’t love me in the least, it still seemed wrong to trample on my feelings that way and receive my declarations with such contempt. She does know that I truly love her; she herself has allowed, has permitted me to speak that way with her! True, it began somehow strangely with us. Sometime long ago now, a good two months back, I began to notice that she wanted to make me her friend, a confidant, and she was even partly testing me. But for some reason it didn’t get going between us then; and instead it has remained in these present strange relations; that was why I began to speak that way with her. But if she’s repulsed by my love, why not forbid me outright to speak of it?
She doesn’t forbid me; she herself even occasionally initiated a conversation with me, and…of course, did it to make fun of me. I know for certain, I firmly noted it—it was a pleasure for her to listen to me and exacerbate me painfully, to stun me suddenly with a show of the greatest contempt and negligence. And she knows that I can’t live without her. It’s three days now since the story with the baron, and I can no longer bear our separation. When I met her just now near the vauxhall, my heart beat so hard that I turned pale. But she can’t survive without me either! She needs me and—can it be, can it be only as a buffoon Balakirev?{12}
She has a secret—that’s clear! Her conversation with grandmother pricked my heart painfully. A thousand times I’ve invited her to be frank with me, and she knew that I was actually ready to lay down my life for her. But she always got off with near contempt, or, instead of the sacrifice of my life, which I had offered her, demanded escapades from me like that time with the baron! Isn’t it outrageous? Can it be that for her the whole world is in this Frenchman? And Mr. Astley? But here the affair was becoming decidedly incomprehensible, and meanwhile—God, how I suffered!
Having come home, in a fit of rage I seized a pen and scribbled the following:
Polina Alexandrovna, I see clearly that the denouement has come, which will, of course, affect you as well. I repeat for the last time: do you need my life or not? If you need me for anything at all—I am at your disposal, and meanwhile I’ll be sitting in my room, at least most of the time, and won’t go anywhere. If need be—write me or send for me.
I sealed this note and sent it with the floorboy, with orders that he put it directly into her hands. I didn’t expect an answer, but three minutes later the floorboy came back, saying that “the lady sends her greetings.”