I have heard that opinion from one side and another. But
I have understood you at the end of the first day...."
Razumov interrupted her, speaking steadily.
"I assure you that your perspicacity is at fault here."
"What phrases he uses!" she exclaimed parenthetically. "Ah! Kirylo
Sidorovitch, you like other men are fastidious, full of self-love and
afraid of trifles. Moreover, you had no training. What you want is to
be taken in hand by some woman. I am sorry I am not staying here a few
days. I am going back to Zurich to-morrow, and shall take Yakovlitch
with me most likely."
This information relieved Razumov.
"I am sorry too," he said. "But, all the same, I don't think you
understand me."
He breathed more freely; she did not protest, but asked, "And how did
you get on with Peter Ivanovitch? You have seen a good deal of each
other. How is it between you two?"
Not knowing what answer to make, the young man inclined his head slowly.
Her lips had been parted in expectation. She pressed them together, and
seemed to reflect.
"That's all right."
This had a sound of finality, but she did not leave him. It was
impossible to guess what she had in her mind. Razumov muttered--
"It is not of me that you should have asked that question. In a moment
you shall see Peter Ivanovitch himself, and the subject will come up
naturally.
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