Alexander Grin by Crimson Sails

Author:Crimson Sails
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-29T22:50:11+00:00

IV. ON THE EVE

On the eve of that day and seven years after Egle, the collector of folk songs, had told the little girl on the beach a fairy-tale about a ship with crimson sails, Assol returned home from her weekly visit to the toy shop feeling distressed and looking sad. She had brought back the toys that she had taken to be sold. She was so upset she could not speak at first, but after looking at Longren’s anxious face and seeing that he expected news that was much worse than what had actually happened, she began to speak, running her finger over the windowpane by which she stood, gazing out at the sea absently.

The owner of the toy shop had begun this time by opening his ledger and showing her how much they owed him. She felt faint at the sight of the impressive, three-digit figure.

“This is how much you’ve received since December,” the shopkeeper said, “and now we’ll see how much has been sold.” And he set his finger against another figure, but this one was a two-digit one.

“It’s a pity and a shame to look.”

“I could see by looking at his face that he was rude and angry. I’d have gladly run away, but, honestly, I was so ashamed I had no strength to. And he went on to say: ‘There’s no profit in it for me any more, my dear girl. Imported goods are in demand now. All the shops are full of them, and nobody buys these kind.’ That’s what he said. He went on talking, but I’ve mixed up and forgotten what he said. He probably felt sorry for me, because he suggested I try the Children’s Bazaar and Alladin’s Lamp.”

Having unburdened herself of that which was most important, the girl turned her head and looked at the old man timidly. Longren sat hunched over, his fingers locked between his knees on which his elbows rested. Sensing her eyes on him, he raised his head and sighed. Overcoming her depression, she ran up to him, settled down beside him and, slipping her small hand under the leather sleeve of his jacket, laughing and looking up into her father’s face from below, she continued with feigned liveliness:

“Never mind, it’s not important. You listen, now. Anyway, I left. Well, I came to the big, awfully frightening store; it was terribly crowded. People shoved me, but I made my way through and went over to a black-haired man in spectacles. I don’t remember a word of what I said to him; finally, he snickered, poked about in my basket, looked at some of the toys, then wrapped them up in the kerchief again and handed them back.”

Longren listened to her angrily. He seemed to be seeing his overawed daughter in the richly-dressed crowd at the counter piled high with fine goods. The neat man in the spectacles was explaining condescendingly that he would go bankrupt if he decided to offer Longren’s simple toys for sale. He

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