Maryan, at least apparently, had regained perfect confidence in himself. With eyes slightly blinking he seemed to look at a picture on the wall.
"That is the affair of my creditors," said he. "They must have this in view, that I am your son."
"But if I should wish not to pay your debts?"
Maryan smiled with incredulity.
"I doubt that. Such a smash-up, as refusal to pay my debts, would injure you also, my father. Besides, the sums are not fabulous."
"How much?"
"I cannot tell the exact figure, but approximately they are—"
He mentioned figures. Darvid repeated them indifferently.
"About a quarter of a million. Very good. I shall be far from ruin this time, but in future—I make no reproaches; for to do so would be to lose time. What has dropped into the past is lost. But the future must be different."
On the word must he laid emphasis again. With a quick movement he put his glasses on his nose, and taking a cigarette from a beautiful box, he put the end of it at the flame of one of the candles burning on the desk. He seemed perfectly calm; but behind his eyeglasses steel sparks flew, and the cigarette did not ignite, held by fingers which trembled somewhat. Turning from the desk to the table, he said: