The Red Room, August Strindberg [the mitten read aloud txt] 📗
- Author: August Strindberg
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“The year which we have just completed will long stand in our annals like a cross on the grave of the accidents which have brought to scorn the foresight of the wisest and the calculations of the most cautious.”
The district-marshal buried his face in his hands as if he were praying. Struve, believing that the white wall dazzled his eyes, jumped up to pull down the blind, but the secretary had already forestalled him.
The reader drank a glass of water. This caused an outburst of impatience.
“To business! Figures!”
The district-marshal removed his hand from his eyes and was taken aback when he found that it was so much darker than it had been before. There was a momentary embarrassment and the storm gathered. All respect was forgotten.
“To business! Go on!”
The director skipped the preliminary banalities, and plunged right into the heart of the matter.
“Very well, gentlemen, I will cut my speech short!”
“Go on! Go on! Why the devil don’t you?”
The hammer fell. “Gentlemen!” There was so much dignity in this brief “Gentlemen” that the assembly immediately remembered their self-respect.
“The Society has been responsible during the year for one hundred and sixty-nine millions.”
“Hear! hear!”
“And has received a million and a half in premiums.”
“Hear! hear!”
Falk made a hasty calculation and found that if the full receipts in premiums, namely, one million and a half, and the total original capital, one million, were deducted, there remained about one hundred and sixty-six millions for which the society was responsible. He realized what “the ways of Providence” meant.
“Unfortunately the amount paid on policies was one million seven hundred and twenty-eight thousand six hundred and seventy crowns and eight öre.”
“Shame!”
“As you see, gentlemen, Providence. …”
“Leave Providence alone! Figures! Figures! Dividends!”
“Under the circumstances I can only propose, in my capacity as Managing Director, a dividend of five percent on the paid-up capital.”
Now a storm burst out which no merchant in the world could have weathered.
“Shame! Impudence! Swindler! Five percent! Disgusting! It’s throwing one’s money away!”
But there were also a few more philanthropic utterances, such as: “What about the poor, small capitalists who have nothing but their dividends to live on? How’ll they manage? Mercy on us, what a misfortune! The State ought to help, and without delay! Oh dear! Oh dear!”
When the storm had subsided a little and the director could make his voice heard, he read out the high praise given by the Supervisory Committee to the Managing Director and all the employees who, without sparing themselves, and with indefatigable zeal, had done the thankless work. The statement was received with open scorn.
The report of the accountants was then read. They stated—after again censuring Providence—that they had found all the books in good—not to say excellent—order, and in checking the inventory all debentures on the reserve fund had been found correct (!) They therefore called upon the shareholders to discharge the directors and acknowledge their honest and unremitting labour.
The directors were, of course, discharged.
The Managing Director then declared that under the circumstances he could not think of accepting his bonus (a hundred crowns) and handed it to the reserve fund. This declaration was received with applause and laughter.
After a short evening prayer, that is to say a humble petition to Providence that next year’s dividend might be twenty percent, the district-marshal closed the proceedings.
XIII Divine OrdinanceOn the same afternoon on which her husband had attended the meeting of the Marine Insurance Society Triton, Mrs. Falk for the first time wore a new blue velvet dress, with which she was eager to arouse the envy of Mrs. Homan, who lived in the house opposite. Nothing was easier or more simple; all she had to do was to show herself every now and then at the window while she supervised the preparations in her room, intended to “crush” her guests, whom she expected at seven. The Administrative Committee of the Crèche “Bethlehem” was to meet and examine the first monthly report; it consisted of Mrs. Homan, whose husband, the controller, Mrs. Falk suspected of pride because he was a government official; Lady Rehnhjelm whom she suspected of the same failing because of her title, and the Rev. Skore, who was private chaplain of all the great families. The whole committee was to be crushed and crushed in the sweetest possible manner.
The new setting for the scene had already been displayed at the big party. All the old pieces which were neither antique nor possessed of any artistic value had been replaced by brand new furniture. Mrs. Falk intended to manage the actors in the little play until the close of the proceedings, when her husband would arrive upon the scene with an admiral—he had promised his wife at least an admiral in full-dress uniform. Both were to crave admission to the society. Falk was to enlarge the funds of the society on the spot by handing over to it a part of the sum which he had been earning so easily as shareholder of the Triton.
Mrs. Falk had finished with the window and was now arranging the rosewood table, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, on which the proofs of the monthly report were to be laid. She dusted the agate inkstand, placed the silver penholder on the tortoiseshell rack, turned up the seal of the chrysoprase handle so as to hide her commoner’s name, cautiously shook the cashbox made of the finest steel wire, so that the value of the few banknotes it contained could be plainly read. Finally, having given her last orders to the footman dressed up for the parade, she sat down in her drawing-room in the careless attitude in which she desired that the announcement of her friend, the controller’s wife, should discover her; Mrs. Homan would be sure to be the first to arrive.
She did arrive first. Mrs. Falk embraced Evelyn and kissed her on the cheek, and Mrs. Homan embraced Eugenia, who received her in the dining-room and
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