Clary."
Suddenly Julie came into the room. "Would you come for a moment, Eugénie?" she said, and took me to Suzanne room.
Suzanne was sitting hunched up on the sofa, sipping port wine. Port is supposed to be strengthening, but I am never given a glass, because young girls do not need strengthening Mama says. Mama was sitting next to Suzanne, and I could see that she was trying to look energetic. When she does this she looks more frail and helpless than ever; she hunches up her narrow shoulders, and her face looks very small under the little widow's cap she has worn for two months. My poor mama reminds you much more of an orphan child than a widow.
"We have decided," said Mama, "that tomorrow Suzannewill try to see Deputy Albitte. And, " Mama added, clearing her throat, "you are to go with her, Eugénie!"
"I am afraid to go alone, among all the crowds of people," Suzanne murmured. I could see that the wine hadn't strengthened her, only made her drowsy. And I wondered why I was to go with her, and not Julie.
"Suzanne has made this decision for Etienne's sake,"
said
Mama, "and it will be a comfort to her, my dear child, know that you are with her."
"Of course you must keep your mouth shut, and let Suzanne do the talking," Julie hastened to add.
I was glad that Suzanne was going to see Albitte. That was the best thing to do, the only thing, in my opinion. But they were treating me, as usual, like a child, so I said nothing.
"Tomorrow will be a very trying day for us all," said Mama, getting up. "So we must go to bed soon."
I ran into the parlour and told Persson that I had to go to bed. He picked up the newspapers and bowed. "Then I wish you good night, Mlle Clary," he said. I was at the door when he suddenly murmured something else. I 1 turned back. "Did you say something, M. Persson?"
"It's only—" he began. I went over to him and tried to see his face in the dusk; I did not bother to light the candles as we were going to bed. I could only just see Persson's pale face.
"I only wanted to say, mademoiselle, that I—yes, that I shall soon be going home." "Oh, I am sorry, monsieur. Why?"
"I haven't told Mme Clary yet. I did not want to trouble her. But you see, mademoiselle, I've been here for a year and more, and they want me in the business, in Stockholm. And when M. Etienne Clary comes back everything will be in order here. I mean, in the business as well; and then I will go back to Stockholm."
It was the longest speech I had ever heard Persson make. I couldn't quite understand why he told me before the others. had always thought he didn't take me any more seriously than the others do. But now, of course, I wanted us to go on t alking. So I went over to the sofa and indicated with a very l adylike gesture that he was to be seated next to me. When h e sat down, his tall frame folded up like a pocketknife. He r ested his elbows on his knees, and I could see he didn't k now what to say next.
Is Stockholm a beautiful city?" I asked politely.
To me it is the most beautiful city in the world," he answered. "Green ice floes sail about in the Mälar, and the sky is as white as a sheet that has just been washed. That is in he winter, but our winter is very long."
His description didn't make me think Stockholm partic ularly beautiful. I wondered, too, where it' was that the green floes were drifting about.
. "Our business is in the Västra Långgatan. That is the most modern business centre in Stockholm. It is just by the Royal Palace," Persson added proudly.
But I was not really listening. I was thinking about tomorrow, and how I must stuff some handkerchiefs into the front of my dress and . . .
"I wanted to ask you a favour, Mlle Clary," I heard Persson saying.
I must look as pretty as I can, I was thinking, so that for my sake they will release Etienne. But I asked politely, "What is it, monsieur?"
"I should like so much," he faltered, "to keep the broadside about the Rights of Man, the one M. Clary brought home.
Stefan Grabinski, Miroslaw Lipinski