Sanin understood his companion's disposition of mind, and so he did not burden him with questions; he restricted himself to the most essential. He learnt that he had been for two years in the service (in the Uhlans! how nice he must have looked in the short uniform jacket!) that he had married three years before, and had now been for two years abroad with his wife, 'who is now undergoing some sort of cure at Wiesbaden,' and was then going to Paris. On his side too, Sanin did not enlarge much on his past life and his plans; he went straight to the princ.i.p.al point--that is, he began talking of his intention of selling his estate.

Polozov listened to him in silence, his eyes straying from time to time to the door, by which the luncheon was to appear. The luncheon did appear at last. The head-waiter, accompanied by two other attendants, brought in several dishes under silver covers.

'Is the property in the Tula province?' said Polozov, seating himself at the table, and tucking a napkin into his shirt collar.

'Yes.'

'In the Efremovsky district ... I know it.'

'Do you know my place, Aleksyevka?' Sanin asked, sitting down too at the table.

'Yes, I know it.' Polozov thrust in his mouth a piece of omelette with truffles. 'Maria Nikolaevna, my wife, has an estate in that neighbourhood.... Uncork that bottle, waiter! You've a good piece of land, only your peasants have cut down the timber. Why are you selling it?'

'I want the money, my friend. I would sell it cheap. Come, you might as well buy it ... by the way.'

Polozov gulped down a gla.s.s of wine, wiped his lips with the napkin, and again set to work chewing slowly and noisily.

'Oh,' he enunciated at last.... 'I don't go in for buying estates; I've no capital. Pa.s.s the b.u.t.ter. Perhaps my wife now would buy it.

You talk to her about it. If you don't ask too much, she's not above thinking of that.... What a.s.ses these Germans are, really! They can't cook fish. What could be simpler, one wonders? And yet they go on about "uniting the Fatherland." Waiter, take away that beastly stuff!'

'Does your wife really manage ... business matters herself?' Sanin inquired.

'Yes. Try the cutlets--they're good. I can recommend them. I've told you already, Dimitri Pavlovitch, I don't interfere in any of my wife's concerns, and I tell you so again.'

Polozov went on munching.

'H'm.... But how can I have a talk with her, Ippolit Sidorovitch?'

'It's very simple, Dimitri Pavlovitch. Go to Wiesbaden. It's not far from here. Waiter, haven't you any English mustard? No? Brutes! Only don't lose any time. We're starting the day after to-morrow. Let me pour you out a gla.s.s of wine; it's wine with a bouquet--no vinegary stuff.'

Polozov's face was flushed and animated; it was never animated but when he was eating--or drinking.

'Really, I don't know, how that could be managed,' Sanin muttered.

'But what makes you in such a hurry about it all of a sudden?'

'There is a reason for being in a hurry, brother.'

'And do you need a lot of money?'

'Yes, a lot. I ... how can I tell you? I propose ... getting married.'

Polozov set the gla.s.s he had been lifting to his lips on the table.

'Getting married!' he articulated in a voice thick with astonishment, and he folded his podgy hands on his stomach. 'So suddenly?'

'Yes ... soon.'

'Your intended is in Russia, of course?'

'No, not in Russia.'

'Where then?'

'Here in Frankfort.'

'And who is she?'

'A German; that is, no--an Italian. A resident here.'

'With a fortune?'

'No, without a fortune.'

'Then I suppose your love is very ardent?'

'How absurd you are! Yes, very ardent.'

'And it's for that you must have money?'

'Well, yes ... yes, yes.'

Polozov gulped down his wine, rinsed his mouth, and washed his hands, carefully wiped them on the napkin, took out and lighted a cigar.

Sanin watched him in silence.

'There's one means,' Polozov grunted at last, throwing his head back, and blowing out the smoke in a thin ring. 'Go to my wife. If she likes, she can take all the bother off your hands.'

'But how can I see your wife? You say you are starting the day after to-morrow?'

Polozov closed his eyes.

'I'll tell you what,' he said at last, rolling the cigar in his lips, and sighing. 'Go home, get ready as quick as you can, and come here.

At one o'clock I am going, there's plenty of room in my carriage. I'll take you with me. That's the best plan. And now I'm going to have a nap. I must always have a nap, brother, after a meal. Nature demands it, and I won't go against it And don't you disturb me.'

Sanin thought and thought, and suddenly raised his head; he had made up his mind.

'Very well, agreed, and thank you. At half-past twelve I'll be here, and we'll go together to Wiesbaden. I hope your wife won't be angry....'

But Polozov was already snoring. He muttered, 'Don't disturb me!' gave a kick, and fell asleep, like a baby.

Sanin once more scanned his clumsy figure, his head, his neck, his upturned chin, round as an apple, and going out of the hotel, set off with rapid strides to the Rosellis' shop. He had to let Gemma know.

x.x.xII

He found her in the shop with her mother. Frau Lenore was stooping down, measuring with a big folding foot-rule the s.p.a.ce between the windows. On seeing Sanin, she stood up, and greeted him cheerfully, though with a shade of embarra.s.sment.