Valerie and Her Week of Wonders by Vitezslav Nezval

there can be no doubt. As long as she was an old woman, she lacked the courage to steal them from you. Incidentally, it seems to me she now has grounds for being invisible. Otherwise she wouldn’t have stolen your jewelry.”
    “Poor Grandma!”
    “But you must be on your guard against her. She has changed into a monster and is capable of committing the same atrocities as the Polecat.”
    “What has become of the wretch?”
    “Don’t pity him.”
    “What’s happened to him?”
    “He’s dying slowly.”
    “Where?”
    “Down in that lair into which he lured you.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes. I saw him a few hours ago. When I didn’t find you in your room at morning, I began to suspect he’d kidnapped you ...”
    “Ach, why would he kidnap me?”
    “I haven’t the courage to tell you the whole truth. But with your assistance he would definitely become rejuvenated. So I entered his den in the near certainty I would catch him in his evil act and forestall him. I was surprised not to find you. By then the constable must have been too weak to drag himself into the house and seize you. Without revealing myself to him, I saw him writhing and moaning as if he were on the rack.”
    “Was your heart not stirred?”
    “You are a child.”
    “I feel sorry for him.”
    “There was a time when I was as sensitive as you. Today, however, I am better steeled against emotion.”
    “So I have observed. You were very hard with my cousin.”
    “I cannot love two women.”
    “I expect your sweetheart is missing you,” said Valerie, blushing.
    “I have no sweetheart,” said Orlík and hung his head.
    “From what you say it follows that you’re in love.”
    “I have made no secret of it.”
    Being so disconcerted Valerie could not say another word.
    “Don’t you know that I love you?”
    “You mustn’t love me.”
    “I had guessed your thoughts were with another.”
    “That’s not why.”
    “Why then?”
    “Are we not brother and sister?”
    “Where did you get that idea?”
    “It was what the missionary told me. My father and yours was the Bishop of –.”
    “There’s not a jot of truth in that.”
    “I did think you were my brother. I still believe we are children of one and the same father.”
    “I cannot have had two real fathers.”
    “You wrote me about your father. If you wish, I can remind you; I know your letter by heart.”
    “He may well have been the husband of my mother, but he was not my father. My father is the constable.”
    “Then I don’t understand why you care so little about saving him.”
    “I would rather lose him than lose you.”
    “You are cruel. I didn’t think it of you.”
    “Don’t be a victim of your own goodness!”
    “I am not heartless, it’s true. But for now, farewell. Good night.”
    “Don’t go. Something awful is bound to happen to you.”
    “I will be careful.”
    “Don’t go!”
    “I can’t stay here until morning.”
    “As long as you are alone, you’re in danger.”
    “Good night.”
    “Trust me, I’ll stay wide awake all night.”
    “Good-bye, my friend.”
    Valerie closed the door. She quickly descended the stairs. She slipped past her room and went out into the yard.
    “I’ll go through the gardens. That way no one will meet me,” she said to herself, striking out boldly to face her next adventure.
     
     
    Chapter XXIII
A COMPASSIONATE VIRGIN
     
    Market stallholders were gathering on the square. Day had not yet dawned. Countrywomen were dozing under the hoods of their carts or rubbing their hands beside their stalls. Several were scurrying across to the gin joint just opening its doors. Horses dozed.
    Valerie, concealed behind a lamppost, watched the preparations for Monday’s market. Over the meat stalls she saw plucked geese and chickens hanging head down. The stench that spread on all sides made her press her perfumed handkerchief to her nose. Finally she spotted a coop containing a number of live chickens. It was not a big