Balint kissed her for a long time, more sure of himself now and slightly more demanding, though still holding himself back so as not to alarm her. By now the hand that rested on his shoulder did not attempt to push him away … but it did not draw him to her either. When he finally let her go and straightened up to take his leave, Adrienne gently touched his arm:
‘But don’t think, or expect … Don’t ask more of me … ever!’
‘Only what you’ll allow. I promise! And I’ll be grateful, whatever it is.’
At that moment Balint honestly believed his words to be true and spoke with such conviction that Adrienne smiled at him with renewed happiness in her heart.
The next day Balint presented himself at the Uzdy house at the same hour. Once again they started to kiss, but Adrienne seemed preoccupied and worried about something and wanted to talk about it. They sat down side by side and Adrienne at once started to explain:
‘Can you imagine it! Judith wants to get married! And to whom? To Nitwit, of all people. Can you conceive anything so mad as to want such a horrid, dull man!’ Adrienne then told him that soon after he had left the day before her sisters had come to see her and how she had almost quarrelled with Judith. ‘They’ll probably come again this afternoon,’ said Adrienne. ‘It’s very disagreeable because for the first time in my life I agree with my mother, and my mother blames me for the whole horrid mess! That’s why she sends Judith to see me. It’s all my fault, she says, for not looking after her properly at the balls. I’ve been a bad influence, she says! As if anyone can watch what’s happening every minute of the time! That Wickwitz has got a nerve. How dare he! Judith never told me anything, not a word! She never even asked me … I’m really very annoyed and I’m so sorry for poor Judith who doesn’t know what a horrible decision it is!’
Balint recalled indignantly what Dinora had told him of Wickwitz’s behaviour and his immediate instinct was to tell Adrienne everything he knew about the Austrian; but then he thought again and checked himself. If he told all he knew it would compromise poor foolish Dinora, and that he could not do. Rather confusedly, therefore, he replied: ‘Of course it’s a bad choice, unworthy of her. I don’t think he’s the man for her … I hardly know him, mind you … but I should think he’s, er, somewhat undesirable. People say he’s very reckless.’
‘That wouldn’t matter! But after all I’ve told them … for one of my sisters to make the same …’ She almost said ‘the same mistake as I did’ but stopped herself, only to go on ever more heatedly: ‘It makes my blood boil!’
‘Is she very much in love?’
‘In love! In love! What does a young girl know about love? She imagines all sorts of things … believes goodness knows what! But I’ve told them, warned them not to rush into marriage like …’ Again the ‘like me!’ was suppressed, although Adrienne could not resist an involuntary shudder as she thought of what marriage had meant to her. Then she pulled herself together and went on in a matter-of-fact voice.
‘It’ll really be much better for them to go away for a while. The girls are leaving for Vienna tonight; only my brother will stay behind. It’s for the best. There’ll be theatres, concerts, museums and Judith will have a taste of another world. A little experience of life and she’ll soon come to her senses, poor girl! Yes! It’ll all be for the best … though I’ll be very lonely, all on my own.’
‘Poor Addy!’ said Balint, taking her hand and kissing her palm to show his sympathy. He tried to pull her more closely to him, but Adrienne shook her head, she was too preoccupied with the tragedy of her own marriage and the threat that she was sure marriage posed to the happiness of her much-loved sister to respond at the moment. Judith’s misfortune weighed heavily on both of them, though for quite different reasons, and so they sat together in silence, bound to each other by loving confidence and trust.
Suddenly the door opened and Judith and Margit entered accompanied by their old governess, Mlle Morin. Balint immediately rose to greet them and take his leave, but before he could open his mouth Judith cried out passionately to Adrienne: ‘This is your doing, I know it! It’s you who have plotted with Mama to send me away, to separate us! But it won’t work, I tell you right now! I love him and I will marry him! You can’t keep me in Vienna for ever!’
‘Mais ma chère enfant — but my dear child!’ cried Mlle Morin, shocked by this lack of reticence in front of Abady who, hardly knowing which way to turn, was still standing between Adrienne and her sister.
‘Ça m’est égal — it’s all the same to me. I don’t mind if the whole world knows! The more the better! Then you’ll all have to agree …’
Adrienne jumped up and tried to take her angry sister in her arms: ‘Judith, my darling, you’re very unjust. I only said …’
Judith brushed her away. ‘I know what you said! You told me the same yesterday! But afterwards … afterwards you took Mama’s side against me! Against me!’
‘You know I only wanted to spare you.’
‘Oh, I know all about that! You’ve explained many times how loathsome, how disgusting it is! I don’t care! It’s all the same to me what happens to my body if I can save him! That’s what I want — to save him — and I also learned from you that if it wasn’t for that …’
Judith’s words upset Balint, making him feel he was inadvertently, spying on Adrienne’s married life and must put a stop to the conversation or he would hear things that afterwards would distress Addy herself. So he bent over Adrienne’s hand, kissed it swiftly and formally, took leave of the girls and the old governess and left the room quickly. As he closed the door behind him he heard Adrienne’s voice raised in anger: ‘How could you be so shameless? Speaking about me like that in front of Balint Abady! How dare you!’
Pausing for a moment Balint reflected on what he had just heard. Had Judith really said ‘how loathsome! how disgusting!’ and if she had used such surprising words what had she meant? He set off home and tried to banish this mystery from his thoughts. It was to no avail. As he walked he could think of nothing but those words ‘loathsome, disgusting! I don’t care what happens to my body!’ Had Adrienne really talked like that to her sisters? Did she see love and making love as a frightening, disgusting horror from which her sisters must be shielded? Did she wish to spare them experiences which for her had been so terrible? If all this were true it could explain her girlish unawakened appearance, her withdrawal when he started to kiss her. It would explain too how it was that she did not even know how to kiss. In this could lie the key to everything about her that he had found so mystifying.
Poor, poor Addy! he thought as he walked towards his home. How unhappy she must be! Sudden hatred for Pal Uzdy flooded over him as he realized that it must have been he who had done this to her. Everything would be explained if he had taken her without love, brutally deflowering an inexperienced girl, and so damaging her pure and noble heart that at one stroke he had prevented her from knowing the greatest joy that life had to offer, indeed the only form of bliss those merciless gods had left to mankind!
Chapter Ten
WIGKWITZ NOW SET HIMSELF in all earnestness to settle his money problems. He had realized that he could not get hold of Judith without waiting at least three or four months, for even if the girl were ready and willing there would still be trouble ahead before her parents would agree to their marriage. This would be a test of endurance, a cross-country endurance ride rather than a short hurdle race, and so he must prepare himself accordingly, as he did when he trained his horses. Thinking with slow but inexorable logic he finally arrived at the thought that somehow he had to play for time, to find the means to parry any attack that could jeopardize his long-term plans. And what was needed to achieve that? Why, more money, of course! Money was needed, not only to live while he waited but also to pay the interest of Dinora’s drafts, and be available to meet any other, unforeseen calls on his purse. He might even want to elope … but that would need money too. Reckoning that his best bet was to touch Dinora again, but in a way she would think merely set everything in order, he had prepared prolongation forms, carefully not mentioning the sums involved, and two new drafts of six thousand crowns each. He would get Dinora to sign all these while she was still well disposed to him, though he would only cash the new drafts if it proved vitally necessary. All this he would have to do quickly, before Dinora became difficult and suspicious and turned on him.