Chapter 1 In which Mrs Milica gains ingress to the Colonel's house ...

one was taking any notice of her. They were animatedly discussing what steps F[nic[
Geamba§u was going to take with his unexpected grandchild.
The enigma surrounding Veronica did not hold the attention of the street for more than
two weeks, during which time the “co-proprietor of the embryo” (gaffer Petric[) was
identified by the Geamba§u family in the person of a swain neither very strapping or
rich, a former classmate of their daughter and “not at all a passing acquaintance from
the Herculane spa resort” (F[nic[ Geamba§u). He was talented at music, especially the
guitar and the panpipes, and momentarily unemployed. A wedding was decided upon.
Undoubtedly, interest in the story would have lasted much longer had the father of the
child not been detected; or, at least, had he been a passing acquaintance at Herculane, as
was initially supposed. But, under the given circumstances, the event petered out,
giving way – after a certain lapse of time, it is true – to a new occurrence which, long
though Willows Street may be, did the rounds of all the houses in half a day.
Nevertheless, on the subject of Veronic Geamba§u, the street was to be abuzz twice
more, albeit not with the same intensity as the first time.
A few months later, constrained by the flatness of Veronica’s belly, the two newly-weds
were obliged to admit that the imminent arrival of a baby had been nothing more than a
ruse to persuade both Mr Geamba§u, payer of taxes to the state – to the last penny – at
the beginning of each year and ultra-strict father, and Mrs Geamba§u, a pretentious and
ever-grumbling creature, whom Veronica, although madly in love, knew she could
never convince about her Gabriel under normal circumstances. Thus she made recourse
to this wile, for the idea had been Veronica’s, knowing that the shame of illegitimate
progeny on a street like Willows would conquer both the fastidious spirit of the father
and the whims of the mother. The operation was ultimately a success, even if the
wedding had passed off with a certain embarrassment, interspersed with sideways
glances at the belly of the bride, about which many neighbours swore on their life that
“it shows”. Gaffer Petric[ laughed at them for a whole year – “Is that right, did it really
show?” – as though he too hadn’t fully taken part in all the discussions on that topic.
Mr Geamba§u rid himself in a short time of all ill feelings, especially after he found out
that the grandchild, for whom he had secretly begun to rejoice, was nothing but a
fiction. Only years later did Mrs Geamba§u admit that her husband had been in the