The Gambler | Page 4

from Paris, as the proceeds of the pledging of her diamonds, at
least 2000 gulden, or even more.
"Come what may, I MUST have money," she said. "And get it
somehow I will--otherwise I shall be ruined."
I asked her what had happened during my absence.
"Nothing; except that two pieces of news have reached us from St.
Petersburg. In the first place, my grandmother is very ill, and unlikely
to last another couple of days. We had this from Timothy Petrovitch
himself, and he is a reliable person. Every moment we are expecting to

receive news of the end."
"All of you are on the tiptoe of expectation? " I queried.
"Of course--all of us, and every minute of the day. For a
year-and-a-half now we have been looking for this."
"Looking for it?"
"Yes, looking for it. I am not her blood relation, you know--I am
merely the General's step-daughter. Yet I am certain that the old lady
has remembered me in her will."
"Yes, I believe that you WILL come in for a good deal," I said with
some assurance.
"Yes, for she is fond of me. But how come you to think so?"
I answered this question with another one. "That Marquis of yours," I
said, "--is HE also familiar with your family secrets?"
"And why are you yourself so interested in them?" was her retort as she
eyed me with dry grimness.
"Never mind. If I am not mistaken, the General has succeeded in
borrowing money of the Marquis."
"It may be so."
"Is it likely that the Marquis would have lent the money if he had not
known something or other about your grandmother? Did you notice,
too, that three times during luncheon, when speaking of her, he called
her 'La Baboulenka'? [Dear little Grandmother]. What loving, friendly
behaviour, to be sure!"
"Yes, that is true. As soon as ever he learnt that I was likely to inherit
something from her he began to pay me his addresses. I thought you
ought to know that."
"Then he has only just begun his courting? Why, I thought he had been
doing so a long while!"
"You KNOW he has not," retorted Polina angrily. "But where on earth
did you pick up this Englishman?" She said this after a pause.
"I KNEW you would ask about him!" Whereupon I told her of my
previous encounters with Astley while travelling.
"He is very shy," I said, "and susceptible. Also, he is in love with
you.--"
"Yes, he is in love with me," she replied.
"And he is ten times richer than the Frenchman. In fact, what does the
Frenchman possess? To me it seems at least doubtful that he possesses

anything at all."
"Oh, no, there is no doubt about it. He does possess some chateau or
other. Last night the General told me that for certain. NOW are you
satisfied? "
"Nevertheless, in your place I should marry the Englishman."
"And why?" asked Polina.
"Because, though the Frenchman is the handsomer of the two, he is also
the baser; whereas the Englishman is not only a man of honour, but ten
times the wealthier of the pair."
"Yes? But then the Frenchman is a marquis, and the cleverer of the
two," remarked Polina imperturbably.
"Is that so?" I repeated.
"Yes; absolutely."
Polina was not at all pleased at my questions; I could see that she was
doing her best to irritate me with the brusquerie of her answers. But I
took no notice of this.
"It amuses me to see you grow angry," she continued. "However,
inasmuch as I allow you to indulge in these questions and conjectures,
you ought to pay me something for the privilege."
"I consider that I have a perfect right to put these questions to you,"
was my calm retort; "for the reason that I am ready to pay for them, and
also care little what becomes of me."
Polina giggled.
"Last time you told me--when on the Shlangenberg--that at a word
from me you would be ready to jump down a thousand feet into the
abyss. Some day I may remind you of that saying, in order to see if you
will be as good as your word. Yes, you may depend upon it that I shall
do so. I hate you because I have allowed you to go to such lengths, and
I also hate you and still more--because you are so necessary to me. For
the time being I want you, so I must keep you."
Then she made a movement to rise. Her tone had sounded very angry.
Indeed, of late her talks with me had invariably ended on a note of
temper and irritation--yes, of real temper.
"May I ask you who is this Mlle. Blanche?" I inquired