The Doll

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Authors: Boleslaw Prus
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the sofa, upon which Ir immediately placed himself, his head on Staś’s knee.
    Ignacy brought up a chair.
    â€˜Something to eat? I’ve ham and a little caviar.’
    â€˜Very well.’
    â€˜Something to drink too? I have a bottle of reasonable Hungarian wine, but only one wine glass that is not broken.’
    â€˜I’ll drink from a tumbler,’ replied the visitor.
    Ignacy began to scuttle around the room, opening the cupboard chest and table-drawer in turn.
    He produced the wine, put it away again, then set out ham and bread on the table. His hands and cheeks were quivering and a good deal of time passed before he was sufficiently himself to get together all the provisions he had previously mentioned. Not until he had partaken of a small glass of the wine did he regain his much-shaken equilibrium.
    Meanwhile, Wokulski was eating.
    â€˜Well, and what’s the latest news?’ asked Ignacy, in the coolest tone imaginable, tapping his visitor’s knee.
    â€˜I suppose you mean in politics?’ replied Wokulski. ‘There will be peace.’
    â€˜Then why is Austria arming?’
    â€˜At a cost of sixty million gulden? She wants to seize Bosnia and Herzegovina.’
    Ignacy opened his eyes very wide.
    â€˜Austria wants to seize …’ he echoed. ‘How so?’
    â€˜How so?’ Wokulski smiled. ‘Because Turkey cannot prevent her.’
    â€˜And what about England?’
    â€˜England will get compensation.’
    â€˜At Turkey’s expense?’
    â€˜Of course. The weak always pay the costs of any conflict between the strong.’
    â€˜And justice?’ exclaimed Ignacy.
    â€˜Justice lies in the fact that the strong multiply and increase, and the weak perish. Otherwise the world would become a charitable institution, which would indeed be unjust.’
    Ignacy shifted his chair.
    â€˜How can you say such things, Staś? Seriously, joking aside …’
    Wokulski turned his calm gaze upon him.
    â€˜Yes,’ he replied. ‘What is so strange in it? Doesn’t the same law apply to me, to you, to all of us? … I’ve wept for myself too often to feel for Turkey …’
    Ignacy lowered his eyes and was silent. Wokulski went on eating.
    â€˜Well, and how did things go with you?’ asked Ignacy in his normal voice.
    Wokulski’s eyes gleamed. He put down the bread and leaned against the arm of the sofa.
    â€˜Do you remember,’ he asked, ‘how much money I took with me when I went abroad?’
    â€˜Thirty thousand roubles, in cash.’
    â€˜And how much do you suppose I’ve brought back?’
    â€˜Fifty … perhaps forty thousand roubles … Am I right?’ asked Rzecki, looking at him uncertainly.
    Wokulski poured a glass of wine and drank it slowly.
    â€˜Two hundred and fifty thousand roubles, mostly in gold,’ he said distinctly. ‘And since I told them to buy banknotes, which I’ll sell when the peace is signed, I shall have over three hundred thousand roubles …’
    Rzecki leaned towards him, his mouth open.
    â€˜Don’t be alarmed,’ Wokulski went on, ‘I made it honestly, by hard, very hard, work. The secret was that I had a rich partner and was satisfied with four or five times less profit than others. So my capital, while continually growing, was in constant circulation. Well,’ he added after a time, ‘I was very lucky too … Like a gambler who backs the same number ten times running at roulette. High stakes? … nearly every month I risked my entire fortune, and my life every day.’
    â€˜Was that the only reason you went there?’ Ignacy asked.
    Wokulski looked at him mockingly.
    â€˜Surely you didn’t expect me to turn into a Turkish Wallenrod ?’
    â€˜But to risk your neck for money, when you had a good living …’ Ignacy muttered, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows.
    Wokulski shuddered and

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