Despite these precautions Mrs Lazar sometimes found herself faced by the fact that he had foolishly sold something at a loss. Then she swallowed her disappointment and said nothing, hoping that sooner or later he would learn, and not wanting, at this stage, to undermine his self-confidence.
However, things did not turn out as she hoped. One day in January Laszlo did not come home until the morning after the market-day. A little later he went to Kolozsvar by way of his own home at Kozard, taking with him a small overnight bag for he had left no clothes there. It was three days before he came back by carriage, with an unusually cold and hard expression in his eyes, and it was several days later before he seemed completely sober. Sara could not imagine where he had got hold of anything to drink.
This time Sara was frightened. She had given her heart to the young man and she clung to the illusion that she had rescued him from depravity. At first she did not say anything and pretended that she had noticed nothing. But when it happened more than once, she searched his room.
There she found three bottles of brandy, two empty and one with some dregs still in it; obviously he had smuggled them in.
This was too much to pass unremarked. Very gently Sara spoke to Laszlo, full of kindness and understanding and forgiveness. Shamefaced he admitted everything, humbly begged her pardon, swore it would never, never happen again; and for ten days he was on his best behaviour. Then, quite suddenly, on some transparently untrue excuse, he went again to Kozard and from there on to Kolozsvar. This time he stayed away for four days.
When he finally returned she managed to search through his travelling valise, but she found nothing. Why, she asked herself, did he look so guilty? Was it only that he had been drinking? Surely there must be something more because he had always done that while away and until now had never worn that humble, apologetic, hang-dog expression. Was it because he felt guilty about breaking his promise? She was touched to think that that might be the reason, and a great warmth flowed towards him from her loving woman’s heart. So, for her own solace and to show him that she forgave him, directly after luncheon, which they had eaten in silence, she leaned towards him and offered her mouth in a kiss of peace.
For a moment he hesitated and then he put his arms round her and bent down until his lips brushed her cheek.
Only for a brief moment — for Sara stepped back abruptly, looking up into his face with wide-open eyes: from Laszlo’s collar, clothes and hair there came a strange unpleasant smell — the reek of cheap scent.
And as soon as she caught the first whiffs, she knew what it meant: he had betrayed her with some common whore. For a few seconds she looked the traitor full in the eyes. Then he dropped his gaze, turned away and slowly left the room.
Sara cried for a long time that afternoon. Laszlo was not to know this, any more than that for the last four days her eyes had been full of tears. All the same, when evening came she forgave him.
The next few weeks were painful for both of them. Every time that Laszlo went into the town her heart was torn with the thought that he would get drunk and find himself in bed with a prostitute. Still she sent him more often than before, realizing that this was the price of their reconciliation. If she had not done so it might appear that she was nursing a grudge and keeping him at home as a punishment; and that would have been dangerous too. This she had found out one day when, in Laszlo’s presence, she had given her orders directly to the farm overseer and sent him to market on his own. Gyeroffy’s eyes had hardened and he had sulked at once, not speaking to her for the whole day. In fact he had such a sinister expression that Sara had become quite frightened, thinking that he was planning to leave her. She never tried it again; far better, she reasoned, to suffer a hell of anxiety than lose him altogether. Not that, she prayed, not that!
Now she left the liquor decanters out, for if he really needed a drink it was best that he should find it at home. When he got drunk she pretended not to notice; and she did all she could to conceal it from the servants. This system too had its bad side, for when Laszlo drank more than a certain quantity he developed that strange arrogance which in the past had made his friends laugh at him. He became overbearingly conceited and rude to anyone who came near him. This stage, however, never lasted long. All of a sudden he would become deflated and beg her forgiveness in floods of tears and self-abasing confessions of guilt and remorse.
After such scenes they would make love passionately as if that would wipe out all that had happened.
Those were stormy days for them both … and stormy nights.
At the end of March Gyeroffy went again to Kolozsvar. Sara had sent him in to collect an unusually large sum of money, some 16,000 crowns that she was owed by the pork butcher to whom she had sold her fattened pigs.
That evening he did not return home, nor the next. Three days went by and still he had not come.
Sara became very anxious. It occurred to her that it was always possible that Laszlo had spent the money or lost it, but she swiftly dismissed the idea which indeed would have been a small matter compared with the thought that he might have left her. When he had still not reappeared by noon of the fourth day, Sara ordered the horses to be put to her carriage and drove into town. She went straight to the Central Hotel as she knew he always stayed there when he did not return.
Her instinct had been right and, said the porter when she enquired, he was in his room. She went up and opened the door suddenly thinking that maybe he had a woman with him. Gyeroffy was alone, walking up and down, as he had been for some hours. He had not shaved for four days and in his dirty crumpled shirt he looked a wreck. The brandy bottles on the table were empty.
When the door opened and Sara came in he looked at her with undisguised hostility.
‘Well? What do you want?’ His tone was disagreeable and the expression on his face harder and more stubborn than she had ever seen it. Then he said again, ‘Well? What doyou want?’
‘Me? Why?’ said Sara in the lightest tone she could muster, for she was determined to appear unconcerned. ‘I came in to do some shopping and as I was here I thought you might like a lift home. Do you want to come in the carriage with me, because …?’
Laszlo interrupted her, ‘You’re lying, I know it! Why? What for? Do you think I don’t know you’re always spying on me? That’s what you came for, isn’t it? I suppose you’re worried about your money? Well, you needn’t be, it’s all here … and more, much more! Do you want it? Do you want me to settle the account? Good, because that’s what I want too.’
Sara’s large eyes filled with tears. She did not answer, but turned away, so that he should not see how hurt she was, and tried hard to get control of herself. Then, as calmly as she could, she said, ‘Please, Laszlo, don’t talk like that. Not here, not in the hotel,’ she added imploringly.
He came downstairs with her and they got into the carriage and started for home. Outside the town they met a strong northwest wind, cold and gusty with rain and snow. They had the hood put up and well-anchored onto the mudguards, and huddled together as far back as possible.
Sara was reminded of that other ride home on St Hubert’s Day, when they had sat back clinging to each other, though not then so estranged and hostile. Nevertheless it was from that day that Laszlo had started to change and Sara’s road to Calvary had begun.
For the woman it was a dreadful ordeal to sit there together in hostility and silence. Finally she could stand it no longer and made a great effort to speak, fighting all the time against breaking down in tears. ‘Why are you so horrid to me? I haven’t done anything to harm you!’ she said sadly, neither angry nor offended. She spoke only in sorrow from the depths of her rejected maternal love.