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第3节

paz-第3节

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light which filtered through embroidered curtains and added to their

charm。 On a table between the windows; among various curiosities; lay

a whip; the handle designed by Mademoiselle de Fauveau; which proved

that the countess rode on horseback。



Such is a lady's boudoir in 1837;an exhibition of the contents of

many shops; which amuse the eye; as if ennui were the one thing to be

dreaded by the social world of the liveliest and most stirring capital

in Europe。 Why is there nothing of an inner life? nothing which leads

to revery; nothing reposeful? Why indeed? Because no one in our day is

sure of the future; we are living our lives like prodigal annuitants。



One morning Clementine appeared to be thinking of something。 She was

lying at full length on one of those marvellous couches from which it

is almost impossible to rise; the upholsterer having invented them for

lovers of the 〃far niente〃 and its attendant joys of laziness to sink

into。 The doors of the greenhouse were open; letting the odors of

vegetation and the perfume of the tropics pervade the room。 The young

wife was looking at her husband who was smoking a narghile; the only

form of pipe she would have suffered in that room。 The portieres; held

back by cords; gave a vista through two elegant salons; one white and

gold; comparable only to that of the hotel Forbin…Janson; the other in

the style of the Renaissance。 The dining…room; which had no rival in

Paris except that of the Baron de Nucingen; was at the end of a short

gallery decorated in the manner of the middle…ages。 This gallery

opened on the side of the courtyard upon a large antechamber; through

which could be seen the beauties of the staircase。



The count and countess had just finished breakfast; the sky was a

sheet of azure without a cloud; April was nearly over。 They had been

married two years; and Clementine had just discovered for the first

time that there was something resembling a secret or a mystery in her

household。 The Pole; let us say it to his honor; is usually helpless

before a woman; he is so full of tenderness for her that in Poland he

becomes her inferior; though Polish women make admirable wives。 Now a

Pole is still more easily vanquished by a Parisian woman。 Consequently

Comte Adam; pressed by questions; did not even attempt the innocent

roguery of selling the suspected secret。 It is always wise with a

woman to get some good out of a mystery; she will like you the better

for it; as a swindler respects an honest man the more when he finds he

cannot swindle him。 Brave in heart but not in speech; Comte Adam

merely stipulated that he should not be compelled to answer until he

had finished his narghile。



〃If any difficulty occurred when we were travelling;〃 said Clementine;

〃you always dismissed it by saying; 'Paz will settle that。' You never

wrote to any one but Paz。 When we returned here everybody kept saying;

'the captain; the captain。' If I want the carriage'the captain。' Is

there a bill to pay'the captain。' If my horse is not properly

bitted; they must speak to Captain Paz。 In short; it is like a game of

dominoesPaz is everywhere。 I hear of nothing but Paz; but I never

see Paz。 Who and what is Paz? Why don't you bring forth your Paz?〃



〃Isn't everything going on right?〃 asked the count; taking the

〃bocchettino〃 of his narghile from his lips。



〃Everything is going on so right that other people with an income of

two hundred thousand francs would ruin themselves by going at our

pace; and we have only one hundred and ten thousand。〃



So saying she pulled the bell…cord (an exquisite bit of needlework)。 A

footman entered; dressed like a minister。



〃Tell Captain Paz that I wish to see him。〃



〃If you think you are going to find out anything that way〃 said

Comte Adam; laughing。



It is well to mention that Adam and Clementine; married in December;

1835; had gone soon after the wedding to Italy; Switzerland; and

Germany; where they spent the greater part of two years。 Returning to

Paris in November; 1837; the countess entered society for the first

time as a married woman during the winter which had just ended; and

she then became aware of the existence; half…suppressed and wholly

dumb but very useful; of a species of factotum who was personally

invisible; named Paz;spelt thus; but pronounced 〃Patz。〃



〃Monsieur le capitaine Paz begs Madame la comtesse to excuse him;〃

said the footman; returning。 〃He is at the stables; as soon as he has

changed his dress Comte Paz will present himself to Madame。〃



〃What was he doing at the stables?〃



〃He was showing them how to groom Madame's horse;〃 said the man。 〃He

was not pleased with the way Constantin did it。〃



The countess looked at the footman。 He was perfectly serious and did

not add to his words the sort of smile by which servants usually

comment on the actions of a superior who seems to them to derogate

from his position。



〃Ah! he was grooming Cora。〃



〃Madame la comtesse intends to ride out this morning?〃 said the

footman; leaving the room without further answer。



〃Is Paz a Pole?〃 asked Clementine; turning to her husband; who nodded

by way of affirmation。



Madame Laginska was silent; examining Adam。 With her feet extended

upon a cushion and her head poised like that of a bird on the edge of

its nest listening to the noises in a grove; she would have seemed

enchanting even to a blase man。 Fair and slender; and wearing her hair

in curls; she was not unlike those semi…romantic pictures in the

Keepsakes; especially when dressed; as she was this morning; in a

breakfast gown of Persian silk; the folds of which could not disguise

the beauty of her figure or the slimness of her waist。 The silk with

its brilliant colors being crossed upon the bosom showed the spring of

the neck;its whiteness contrasting delightfully against the tones of

a guipure lace which lay upon her shoulders。 Her eyes and their long

black lashes added at this moment to the expression of curiosity which

puckered her pretty mouth。 On the forehead; which was well modelled;

an observer would have noticed a roundness characteristic of the true

Parisian woman;self…willed; merry; well…informed; but inaccessible

to vulgar seductions。 Her hands; which were almost transparent; were

hanging down at the end of each arm of her chair; the tapering

fingers; slightly turned up at their points; showed nails like

almonds; which caught the light。 Adam smiled at his wife's impatience;

and looked at her with a glance which two years of married life had

not yet chilled。 Already the little countess had made herself mistress

of the situation; for she scarcely paid attention to her husband's

admiration。 In fact; in the look which she occasionally cast at him;

there seemed to be the consciousness of a Frenchwoman's ascendancy

over the puny; volatile; and red…haired Pole。



〃Here comes Paz;〃 said the count; hearing a step which echoed through

the gallery。



The countess beheld a tall and handsome man; well…made; and bearing on

his face the signs of pain which come of inward strength and secret

endurance of sorrow。 He wore one of those tight; frogged overcoats

which were then called 〃polonaise。〃 Thick; black hair; rather unkempt;

covered his square head; and Clementine noticed his broad forehead

shining like a block of white marble; for Paz held his visored cap in

his hand。 The hand itself was like that of the Infant Hercules。 Robust

health flourished on his face; which was divided by a large Roman nose

and reminded Clementine of some handsome Transteverino。 A black silk

cravat added to the martial appearance of this six…foot mystery; with

eyes of jet and Italian fervor。 The amplitude of his pleated trousers;

which allowed only the tips of his boots to be seen; revealed his

faithfulness to the fashions of his own land。 There was something

really burlesque to a romantic woman in the striking contrast no one

could fail to remark between the captain and the count; the little

Pole with his pinched face and the stalwart soldier。



〃Good morning; Adam;〃 he said familiarly。 Then he bowed courteously as

he asked Clementine what he could do for her。



〃You are Laginski's friend!〃 exclaimed the countess。



〃For life and death;〃 answered Paz; to whom the count threw a smile of

affection as he drew a last puff from his perfumed pipe。



〃Then why don't you take your meals with us? why did you not accompany

us to Italy and Switzerland? why do you hide yourself in such a way

that I am unable to thank you for the constant services that you do

for us?〃 said the countess; with much vivacity of manner but no

feeling。



In fact; she thought she perceived in Paz a sort of voluntary

servitude。 Such an idea carried with it in her mind a certain contempt

for a social amphibian; a being half…secretary; half…bailiff; and yet

neither the one nor the other; a poor relation; an embarrassing

frien

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