“And I will wind ’em up! Wait one little week more, dearie! Did you get the powders?”
“The powders are a trifle!” discontentedly answered Senka. “And it isn’t powders at all, but pills.”
“And you’re sure when you say that they’ll dissolve at once in water?”
“Sure, I saw it myself.”
“But he won’t die? Listen, Senya: he won’t die? Is that right?...”
“Nothing will happen to him ... He’ll only snooze for a while ... Oh, Tamara!” exclaimed he in a passionate whisper; and even suddenly stretched himself hard from an unbearable emotion, so that his joints cracked. “Finish it, for God’s sake, as soon as possible! ... Let’s do the trick and—bye-bye! Wherever you want to go to, sweet-heart! I am all at your will: if you want to, we start off for Odessa; if you want to—abroad. Finish it up as soon as possible! ...”
“Soon, soon...”
“You just wink at me, and I’m all ready ... with powders, with instruments, with passports ... And then—choo-choo! The machine is off! Tamarochka! My angel! ... My precious, my sparkler! ...”
And he, always restrained, having forgotten that he could be seen by strangers, already wanted to embrace and hug Tamara to himself.
“Now, now!” ... rapidly and deftly, like a cat, Tamara jumped off the chair. “Afterwards ... afterwards, Senechka, afterwards, little dearie! ... I’ll be all yours—there won’t be any denial, nor forbiddance. I’ll myself make you weary of me ... Good-bye, my little silly!”