The Story of My Wife by Milán Füst

knock you down with one finger. . . what do you say to that?" He laughed. And he was right. What sort of talk was this? Like that kid at the academy.
    "It's quite possible," he replied with a broad smile.
    "And if I did, I don't think you could get up again. What is it you do for a living?"
    "I was a sublieutenant attached to the medical corps," he answered and straightened out a little.
    "I am not interest in what you were, my good man; what are you now, What is your livelihood? I can also say that I am a master violinist just because I once owned a violin. What I am asking you is what you are right now." Monsieur Dedin cast curious glances all around.
    "I am not much of anything," he said with an enigmatic smile.
    "Now that's more like it. . . you are nothing, that I can understand. What do you live on, then?"
    "That is rather a mystery," he replied and cracked a sugar cube in his mouth. Our gallant was invulnerable, I realized, he was totally impervious. The sugar was left on the table after tea, and he was sucking on them now quite peacefully. He really didn't feel like answering my questions and would have liked nothing better than to walk away. But he couldn't—not just yet.
    "A mystery, eh?" I said. "Might you have a rich uncle supporting you?"
    "An uncle?"
    "A rich uncle. No need to get embarrassed, young man. Someone generous enough to help you." He turned a deep red. I thought this is it: something is going to happen, at last. (Ah, how I wished it, with all my heart.) But no: the young man kept smiling.
    "What uncle?" he repeated, still quite cheerful. "I have no uncle."
    I almost fell over. It so happened I believed my wife when she told me the business about the rich uncle. Usually I don't believe a word she says. But this I believed. Maybe because it confirmed my suspicion that the guy was a parasite.
    That was the first shock. The other came when he appealed to me heartrendingly not to be overhasty in my business affairs. I was in a bad frame of mind right now, he said, and it was important not to act rashly.
    Amazing. What's my frame of mind got to do with him?
    I should avoid getting involved in a business venture right now, he said, especially something I knew very little about. And certainly not with that fellow from Normandy.
    (Aha, he's talking about the hotel.)
    "And why not, may I ask?"
    "Because he is a scoundrel. He'll trick you, he'll fleece you. Trusting soul that you are." (Is that what I am, a trusting soul?) And he kept harping on my troubled state of mind, my low spirits, my anxieties.
    "My anxieties?"
    "It's perfectly understandable. Someone who suffered as much, put up with as much as you have these past few months."
    "Why, what have I put with? How would you know about that? And what's more to the point, what's it got to do with you?" (But as I said, the man was impervious; that was the secret of his being.)
    "Oh let's not make light of it, captain," he said, with some feeling now. "Let's not." He knew exactly what happened on the high seas, how heroically I piloted that boat; he was well-informed on the subject. He even knew I made sure no fee would be paid to any of the rescue services. . . .
    This interested me somewhat because it happened to be true— not having to pay special fees, that is. I was rather proud of it, actually. But how on earth did he know about all that? I discussed it with no one; nor do I intend to.
    But that's man for you. I felt myself getting warmer. He went on to name the person who had related all this to him, a well-known authority, a maritime specialist, for whom I myself had the highest regard . . . And he said I acted heroically.
    That is man all over. You start praising him and before long you can slip a ring through his nose. And I am no exception. Especially when it comes to the accident which was still a sore point and will remain that to the end of my days.
    "Won't you sit down?" I now said to the young man. I was that interested in finding out if I was a