The Wallet,
Machado de Assis
SUDDENLY, Honório looked at the ground and saw a wallet. Bending down, picking it up and putting it away took a few moments. No one saw him, except a man who was at the door of a store, and who, without knowing him, said to him laughing:
— Look, if you don't notice her; I lost it at once.
— It's true, — agreed Honório embarrassedly.
To assess the opportunity of this portfolio, it is necessary to know that Honório has to pay a debt tomorrow, four hundred and so mil-réis, and the wallet had a stuffed bulge. The debt does not seem large for a man of Honorius' position, who is a lawyer; but all sums are large or small, depending on the circumstances, and his could not be worse. Excessive family expenses, at first to serve relatives, and later to please his wife, who was bored with loneliness; dance here, dinner there, hats, fans, so much more, that there was no choice but to discount the future. Got into debt. It started with store and warehouse accounts; he began to borrow, two hundred to one, three hundred to another, five hundred to another, and everything grew, and balls were held, and dinners were eaten, a perpetual whirlwind, a whirlwind.
— You're doing well now, aren't you? — Gustavo C..., lawyer and family member of the house, told him recently.
— Now I'm going, — Honório lied.
The truth is that it was bad. Few causes, of small importance, and remitted constituents; Unfortunately, he had recently lost a case, with which he had founded great hopes. Not only did he receive little, but it even seems that he took something away from his legal reputation; In any case, there was gossip in the newspapers.
D. Amélia didn't know anything; he didn't tell his wife anything, good or bad business. I didn't tell anyone anything. He pretended to be as happy as if he were swimming in a sea of prosperity. When Gustavo, who went to his house every night, said one or two jokes, he responded with three and four; and then I would listen to excerpts of German music, which D. Amélia played very well on the piano, and which Gustavo listened to with indescribable pleasure, or they played cards, or simply talked about politics.
One day, the woman came to find him giving lots of kisses to his daughter, a four-year-old child, and saw her eyes were wet; she was amazed and asked him what it was.
— Nothing, nothing.
It is understood that it was the fear of the future and the horror of misery. But hope returned easily. The idea that better days had to come gave him comfort in the fight. He was thirty-four years old; it was the principle of the career: all principles are difficult. And it comes to working, waiting, spending, borrowing or borrowing, to pay badly and at bad times.
Today's urgent debt is a damn four hundred or so milreis worth of cars. The bill has never taken so long, nor has it grown as much as it does now; and, strictly speaking, the creditor did not put the knife to his chest; but he said a bitter word to him today, with a bad gesture, and Honorio wants to pay him back today. It was five o'clock in the afternoon. He had remembered to go to a loan shark, but he came back without daring to ask for anything. As he walked along Rua da Assembleia, he saw his wallet on the ground, picked it up, put it in his pocket and walked away.
During the first few minutes, Honório didn't think about anything; He walked, walked, walked, until Largo da Carioca. At Largo, he stopped for a few moments, then turned onto Rua da Carioca, but soon returned and entered Rua Uruguaiana. Without knowing how, he soon found himself in Largo de São Francisco de Paula; and yet, without knowing how, he entered a cafe. He asked for something and leaned against the wall, looking outside. I was afraid to open my wallet; he might not find anything, just papers of no value to him. At the same time, and this was the main cause of the reflections, his conscience asked him if he could use the money he found. I didn't ask him with the air of someone who doesn't know, but rather with an ironic and censorious expression. Could you use the money and pay the debt with it?
Here's the point. His conscience ended up telling him that he couldn't, that he should take the wallet to the police or announce it; but, as soon as he had finished telling him this, the difficulties of the occasion came, and they pulled at him, and invited him to go and pay for the carriage. They even went so far as to tell him that, if he had been the one to lose her, no one would hand her over; insinuation that gave him encouragement.
All this before opening your wallet. He finally took it out of his pocket, but with fear, almost secretly; He opened it and was trembling. I had money, a lot of money; He didn't count, but he saw two bills for two hundred milreis, some for fifty and twenty; he calculated some seven hundred mil-réis or more; at least, six hundred. It was the debt paid; minus some urgent expenses. Honório was tempted to close his eyes, run to the carriage house, pay and, after paying the debt, say goodbye; he would be reconciled with himself. He closed his wallet and, afraid of losing it, put it away again.
But after a while, he took it out again and opened it, wanting to count the money. Count for what? Was it his? Finally, he won and counted: there were seven hundred and thirty mil-réis. Honorio shivered. Nobody saw, nobody knew; It could be a stroke of fortune, his good luck, an angel... Honorio felt sorry for not believing in angels... But why shouldn't he believe in them? And he went back to the money, looked at it, passed it through his hands; then, he decided otherwise, not to use the find, to return it. Return it to whom? He tried to see if there was any sign in the wallet. "If there is a name, any indication, I can't use the money," he thought.
He looked through his wallet pockets. He found letters, which he didn't open, folded notes, which he didn't read, and, finally, a business card; read the name; It was Gustavo's. But then, the wallet? He examined it from the outside and it actually looked like his friend. He returned to the interior; He found two more cards, three more, five more. There was no doubt; it was his.
The discovery saddened him. He could not keep the money without committing an illicit act and, in this case, painful to his heart because it was to the detriment of a friend. The entire castle collapsed as if it were made of cards. He drank the last drop of coffee, not noticing that it was cold. He went out and only then noticed that it was almost night. He walked home. It seems that necessity still gave him a couple of pushes, but he resisted.
"Patience," he said to himself; "I'll see tomorrow what I can do."
Arriving home, he found Gustavo there, a little worried, and D. Amélia herself seemed the same too. He came in laughing and asked his friend if he was missing anything.
— Nothing.
—Nothing?
- Why?
— Put your hand in your pocket; Don't you lack anything?
— I'm missing my wallet — said Gustavo, without putting his hand in his pocket. — Do you know if anyone found it?
— I found it — said Honório, handing it to him.
Gustavo took it from her hastily and looked suspiciously at his friend. That look went to Honorio like a blow from a stiletto; after so much struggle with necessity, it was a sad prize. He smiled bitterly; and, when the other asked him where he had found it, he gave him precise explanations.
—But did you know her?
- No; I found your visiting tickets.
Honório walked around twice and went to change his clothes for dinner. Then Gustavo took out his wallet again, opened it, went to one of his pockets, took out one of the little notes, which the other didn't want to open or read, and handed it to D. Amélia, who, anxious and trembling, tore it into pieces. thirty thousand pieces: it was a little love note.
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