VIII
And Saranin grew tinier and tinier. He could now walk freely under the table. And each day he became smaller still. He had not yet taken complete advantage of his leave, but he did not go to the office. They had not yet made preparations to travel anywhere.
Aglaya sometimes made fun of him, sometimes she cried and said:
“Where shall I take you in that state? The shame and disgrace of it!”
To pass from the study to the dining-room had become a journey of quite respectable proportions. And to climb up on a chair in the bargain …
Still, weariness was in itself agreeable. It resulted in a good appetite and the hope of growing. Saranin now pinned all his faith upon food. The amount he consumed was out of all proportion to his diminutive dimensions. But he did not grow. On the contrary—he decreased and decreased in size. The worst of it was that this decrease in size sometimes proceeded in jerks and at the most inopportune times. As if he were performing tricks.
Aglaya thought of passing him off as a boy, and entering him at a school. She made her way to the nearest one. But the conversation she had with the Headmaster discouraged her.
They demanded documents. It turned out that the plan was impracticable.
With an expression of extreme perplexity the Headmaster said to Aglaya:
“We cannot take a court councillor as pupil. What could we do with him? Suppose the teacher told him to stand in the corner, and he said: I am a Knight of St. Anne. It would be very awkward.”
Aglaya assumed a pleading expression and began to implore.
The Headmaster remained inexorable.
“No,” he said stubbornly, “we cannot take an official into the school. There is nowhere a single clause in which such a case is provided for. And it would be extremely awkward to approach the authorities with such a proposition. They wouldn’t hear of it. It might lead to considerable unpleasantness. No, it can’t be done at all. Apply to the controller, if you so desire.”
But Aglaya could not make up her mind to go to the authorities.