Of course, people began to notice this change; indeed, Madame Krasinska
had ingenuously complained of the strange alteration in herself. Some
persons suggested that she might be suffering from slow blood-poisoning,
and urged an inquiry into the state of the drains. Others recommended
arsenic, morphia, or antipyrine. One kind friend brought her a box of
peculiar cigarettes; another forwarded a parcel of still more peculiar
novels; most people had some pet doctor to cry up to the skies; and one
or two suggested her changing her confessor; not to mention an attempt
being made to mesmerise her into cheerfulness.
When her back was turned, meanwhile, all the kind friends discussed the
probability of an unhappy love affair, loss of money on the Stock
Exchange, and similar other explanations. And while one devoted lady
tried to worm out of her the name of her unfaithful lover and of the
rival for whom he had forsaken her, another assured her that she was
suffering from a lack of personal affections. It was a fine opportunity
for the display of pietism, materialism, idealism, realism, psychological
lore, and esoteric theosophy.
Oddly enough, all this zeal about herself did not worry Madame
Krasinska, as she would certainly have expected it to worry any other
woman. She took a little of each of the tonic or soporific drugs; and
read a little of each of those sickly sentimental, brutal, or politely
improper novels. She also let herself be accompanied to various doctors;
and she got up early in the morning and stood for an hour on a chair
in a crowd in order to benefit by the preaching of the famous Father
Agostino. She was quite patient even with the friends who condoled about
the lover or absence of such. For all these things became, more and
more, completely indifferent to Madame Krasinska--unrealities which had
no weight in the presence of the painful reality.
This reality was that she was rapidly losing all power of amusing
herself, and that when she did occasionally amuse herself she had to pay
for what she called this _good time_ by an increase of listlessness and
melancholy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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