But not with him; all this had been done without him.
This new information stunned Madzar, but he took a firm grip on himself. He politely accompanied them in the hackney to the hotel, enthusiastically pointing out and explaining things to the boys, so as not to feel his own pain.
Standing in the hotel lobby, which was dark, wainscoted, pleasantly cool, the Szemzős told him by way of good-bye that after supper they wanted to pay a visit, if only to make the acquaintance of his mother. Of course they’d come without the boys so as not to be too much of a burden.
Oh, not at all.
There was some give and take about this — perhaps they should all come for supper. They oscillated between yes and no.
And would he kindly excuse them for missing lunch, begged Mrs. Szemző, which Madzar could not understand — indeed at that moment he didn’t understand anything and nor could Dr. Szemző.
What lunch did we miss, darling, the latter asked.
The head of the hospital, a dear colleague of her husband, is expecting them at the Drágffy restaurant for a fish lunch, explained Mrs. Szemző almost desperately, so that at least one of the two men would understand the situation.
And the longer they tortured themselves with the obligatory politeness, the more embarrassing and painful the situation became, though individually none of them could have specified why.
As if here, in the city of his birth, perfect strangers were shutting him out of his own life.
He has the reputation of being a courteous man and therefore his life becomes one of slavishly satisfying other people’s wishes.
This is how Madzar was fuming inside.
But Dr. Szemző was also taking a good look at the place where he had wound up, asking himself what he was doing in this decaying country hotel.
Well, then, until eight tonight, all three of them were saying, making their parting sound light and cheerful. They were about to move out of the humiliating situation, but trouble never comes singly. Down the red-carpet-covered steps came Chief Counselor Elemér Vay.
Baron Bellardi had hastily introduced Madzar to Vay on the Carolina, and the chief counselor vaguely remembered that, yet he had no idea who the plain-looking young man was who was now receiving him with a smile at the bottom of the stairs. They could not avoid exchanging pleasantries; after all, they had been introduced. But why would Chief Counselor Vay have remembered such a person. In general, he didn’t care whom he talked to, just as he hadn’t cared on the Carolina whom Bellardi might introduce to him. Unimportant people did not interest him, and since he had spent more than forty years at various levels of public administration, he rarely erred about people. And he remembered having quickly registered that with this acquaintance of his, Baron Bellardi had once again made a blunder.
In the new situation, however, Madzar could not but obey the rigorous rules of civility and introduce to this high-ranking, authoritative government official the couple at his side, who smiled obligingly, and then help them exchange a few brief, smooth, and totally noncommittal lighthearted remarks. He saw to it that all four of them, expressing the very best wishes and compliments, mutually bowed to one another and then parted, in the merciless coolness of the bowing ritual and the friendliest possible spirit.
As befitted the chief counselor’s rank, an automobile was waiting for him outside the hotel, a sparkling dust-gray Mercedes Nürnberg with its enormous, immaculately glittering black fenders and comfortably wide running boards; the prince of Montenuovo had sent it.
By now, Madzar was seething. No one saw any of this on his face, of course, whose features were set to support an affable smile. All of them were showing their teeth; this was the odd way in which they reassured one another of their peaceful and friendly intentions. As if to say, just this one last time, that they were willing to forgo their dangerous bestiality. Elemér Vay was not overly pleased by this chance encounter, however, though responses like this could never be seen on him, and he made his way through the lobby looking quite content. He was clean-shaven; he had brought a cloud of scent with him, and now he was taking the cloud away with him. His suit, of the finest gray cotton, was freshly pressed; the crease of his pants could cut like a blade’s edge. Around his neck he wore a much too colorful silk cravat, unsuited to his sober appearance; it was a gift from his young wife and contrary to his social position, as it were, and it pleased him to wear it. His brown-and-white two-tone shoes had been polished to a glittering shine by his manservant, who had made ample use of his spittle in the effort. Given the strictly confidential nature of his conferences, the chief counselor could not deem this chance meeting pleasant.
And because of his high social position, sometimes it was difficult, occasionally impossible, to reach the real thing via appearances, but it was not always necessary for him to reach the real thing.
Bah, he would then say to himself, small stuff. Why should something I don’t know be important.
The chief bellboy rushed from behind the counter and, bowing and scraping, accompanied the distinguished gentlemen to the waiting automobile, which several small dirty children, scratching constantly, most likely from impetigo, were watching from the other side of the street.
Elemér Vay often pretended that servants were a burden to him and, as if to overburden the illusion, he looked through them as through air, but in fact, he approved of their eagerness to serve him. He looked at the bellboy from beneath half-lowered fleshy eyelids, which suggested sleepiness, just as, a moment ago, he’d given a quick glance to the features of the couple and their children and concluded they were Israelites, realizing that he would have to spend the night under the same roof with them in this decrepit hotel. He had found them and their exaggerated politeness unpleasantly importunate.
Not to mention the conspicuous absence of dignity emanating from these persons, with their desire to make friends, something he knew to be characteristic of Israelites. He had no time to waste on such silly episodes. From a social point of view, however, he could be satisfied with the complicated ritual of the introductions, which had gone off well. In Elemér Vay’s language, this meant that these persons had demonstrated the proper respect for him even if they were themselves not — because they could not be — flawless; put plainly, they were not socially competent. First Madzar had asked permission to introduce the head physician and then the two of them made bold to introduce the chief counselor to the lady. He had to accept their uncouthness magnanimously, con grandezza.
In the company of the retired county subprefect, Chief Counselor Elemér Vay had held discussions during the previous days with the town clerk, Vitéz Antal Éber, about the particularly delicate and confidential plan to draw up a complete inventory of Jewish wealth in the city and about the legal contingencies and procedural details they might consider in connection with relocating the Jews and confiscating their wealth. Besides the chief counselor, very few people were familiar with all aspects of this rather adventurous plan, requiring exceptional circumspection; it had been prepared two years earlier and now, in light of the latest diplomatic reports, seemed advisable to revive.
The secret plan did not follow the usual county public-administration network and therefore did not necessarily feature the county seats; instead, the most important transportation junctions were its focal points. The plans were drawn up when information gained through diplomatic channels had made clear that the Germans were going to relocate their Jews to Madagascar and, since through the same channels there was hardly a trickle of diplomatic protest against this plan, Hungarian diplomats concluded that the silence of European powers would be the equivalent of consent.