Read Online Private Life by Josep Maria de Sagarra - Free Book Online
Authors: Josep Maria de Sagarra
Ads: Link
from the aristocracy. Hygiene has become commonplace … It won’t be such a novelty if they find me a bit too clean.”
“Oh my God, Mrs. Planell must be cursing my name – I’ve had her in the fitting room for an hour and a half!”
“Who is this Planell woman?
“Don’t you know her? She’s Don Enric Planell’s wife, a beautiful, bright young woman. Oh, you would like her, all right.”
“Come on, now, don’t make things any harder. Listen, the doorbell.”
“I don’t think they can be here, yet, but she’s always so keen to …”
“I swear to you, Dorotea … if it weren’t for the fact that … Well, no, I’m not going to tell you, you’re too much of a gossip.”
“Ingrate!”
“No, what I mean is, I’m fed up with all this.”
“Be patient my son … three hundred pessetes are three hundred pessetes. Come back here now … to the ‘scene of the crime’ … and for the love of God, don’t make as much noise as you did last time. You can hear everything in an apartment like this.”
The “scene of the crime” was a room that had been converted into a luxurious bedroom, with a glossy, perfumed, and illicit air, imitating a kind of pomp that is no longer in fashion in homes with good taste, but is very common in certain high-ticket Parisian bordellos, frequented by the scions of South American families. Dorotea Palau had pretty precise knowledge of such places, even if no direct experience.
In the bedroom, the young man from a good family dressed as a ditch digger was left to wait, perusing the suggestive iconography on the walls with a cynical chuckle and flicking his pocket lighter on and off, while at the door Dorotea greeted a lady and gentleman of honorable appearance with affected amiability, leading them into one of the fitting rooms. Even though the moment of pleasantries had been extremely brief and the couple had already vanished behind a curtain, the lady could not avoid being spotted by Claudina C., who had been torturing Isabel, the chief apprentice of the house, for two hours. Having finished up her business there, she grabbed Dorotea by the arm in high dudgeon and said to her, one foot inside the door and one on the landing outside:
“That Conxa can’t seem to go anywhere without that pansy of a husband.”
Not wishing to take sides, Dorotea responded:
“They are an exemplary couple; he expresses his opinion on everything; la Baronessa doesn’t so much as baste a stitch without consulting him. They are madly in love, and bear in mind that he is no spring chicken.”
“Go on, woman, go on! The man is a dolt. He should be ashamed of himself. I assure you that if my husband came to me with this kind of nonsense …! I just don’t know what to think.”
“For the love of God, Donya Claudina, you’re being very mean! Quite a few ladies come here in the company of their husbands.”
“You’re talking about a different kind of ‘lady,’ now … But you have work to do, and I’m in the way … Everything must be ready the day after tomorrow, eh? I’ll be furious if it isn’t.”
“Rest assured, Donya Claudina.”
“Ah! And Isabel showed me that other matter. If you can’t bring it down, just cancel the order.”
“But we can’t, Donya Claudina. You know that was a special price for you only.”
“Always the same story. We’ve known each other too long for this, Dorotea.”
“For the love of God, Donya Claudina …”
“I’ll think about it.”
“At your service, Donya Claudina.”
Dorotea closed the door and stepped into the fitting room where the honorable couple awaited her.
“Have I kept you waiting? Please forgive me.”
“Is the room quite safe? No one will be able to hear us? There are so many girls here, and they can be such tattlers.”
“El senyor Baró can put his mind to rest.”
“Let’s get on with it, Dorotea. Is it the same one as the last time?”
“Yes, the same one. But with the leave of el
“Oh my God, Mrs. Planell must be cursing my name – I’ve had her in the fitting room for an hour and a half!”
“Who is this Planell woman?
“Don’t you know her? She’s Don Enric Planell’s wife, a beautiful, bright young woman. Oh, you would like her, all right.”
“Come on, now, don’t make things any harder. Listen, the doorbell.”
“I don’t think they can be here, yet, but she’s always so keen to …”
“I swear to you, Dorotea … if it weren’t for the fact that … Well, no, I’m not going to tell you, you’re too much of a gossip.”
“Ingrate!”
“No, what I mean is, I’m fed up with all this.”
“Be patient my son … three hundred pessetes are three hundred pessetes. Come back here now … to the ‘scene of the crime’ … and for the love of God, don’t make as much noise as you did last time. You can hear everything in an apartment like this.”
The “scene of the crime” was a room that had been converted into a luxurious bedroom, with a glossy, perfumed, and illicit air, imitating a kind of pomp that is no longer in fashion in homes with good taste, but is very common in certain high-ticket Parisian bordellos, frequented by the scions of South American families. Dorotea Palau had pretty precise knowledge of such places, even if no direct experience.
In the bedroom, the young man from a good family dressed as a ditch digger was left to wait, perusing the suggestive iconography on the walls with a cynical chuckle and flicking his pocket lighter on and off, while at the door Dorotea greeted a lady and gentleman of honorable appearance with affected amiability, leading them into one of the fitting rooms. Even though the moment of pleasantries had been extremely brief and the couple had already vanished behind a curtain, the lady could not avoid being spotted by Claudina C., who had been torturing Isabel, the chief apprentice of the house, for two hours. Having finished up her business there, she grabbed Dorotea by the arm in high dudgeon and said to her, one foot inside the door and one on the landing outside:
“That Conxa can’t seem to go anywhere without that pansy of a husband.”
Not wishing to take sides, Dorotea responded:
“They are an exemplary couple; he expresses his opinion on everything; la Baronessa doesn’t so much as baste a stitch without consulting him. They are madly in love, and bear in mind that he is no spring chicken.”
“Go on, woman, go on! The man is a dolt. He should be ashamed of himself. I assure you that if my husband came to me with this kind of nonsense …! I just don’t know what to think.”
“For the love of God, Donya Claudina, you’re being very mean! Quite a few ladies come here in the company of their husbands.”
“You’re talking about a different kind of ‘lady,’ now … But you have work to do, and I’m in the way … Everything must be ready the day after tomorrow, eh? I’ll be furious if it isn’t.”
“Rest assured, Donya Claudina.”
“Ah! And Isabel showed me that other matter. If you can’t bring it down, just cancel the order.”
“But we can’t, Donya Claudina. You know that was a special price for you only.”
“Always the same story. We’ve known each other too long for this, Dorotea.”
“For the love of God, Donya Claudina …”
“I’ll think about it.”
“At your service, Donya Claudina.”
Dorotea closed the door and stepped into the fitting room where the honorable couple awaited her.
“Have I kept you waiting? Please forgive me.”
“Is the room quite safe? No one will be able to hear us? There are so many girls here, and they can be such tattlers.”
“El senyor Baró can put his mind to rest.”
“Let’s get on with it, Dorotea. Is it the same one as the last time?”
“Yes, the same one. But with the leave of el
Similar Books
