"No—not this evening, I have only a moment. I have merely come, Stépan, you darling, to tell you that I have something interesting to say."
"Not possible!" and he carefully sealed down a letter he had been writing and put it ready to be posted. Then he came over and took some cigarettes from a Faberger enamel box and offered her one.
Harietta smoked most of the day but she refused now.
"You have come, not for pleasure, but to talk! Sapristi! I am duly amazed!"
Another woman would have been insulted at the tone and the insinuation in the words, but not so Harietta. She did not pretend to have a brain, that was one of her strong points, and she understood and appreciated the crudest methods, so long as their end was for the pleasure of herself.
She nodded, and that was all.
Verisschenzko threw himself into the opposite chair, his yellow-green eyes full of a mocking light.
"I have seen a brooch even finer than the ruby ring at Cartier's just now—I thought perhaps if I were very pleased with you, it might be yours."
Harietta bounded from her chair and sat upon his knee.
"You perfect angel, Stépan, I adore you!" she said. He did not return the caresses at all, but just ordered: