“Oh! then say good-bye to your betrothed!” remarked the widow, cuttingly.
“And why ‘good-bye’?”
“Why; you think she's yours already, do you? and they are going to marry her to the prince! I heard them say so myself!”
“To the prince? Oh, come now, Nastasia Petrovna!”
“Oh, it's not a case of 'come now' at all! Would you like to see and hear it for yourself? Put down your coat, and come along here,—this way!”
“Excuse me, Nastasia Petrovna, but I don't understand what you are driving at!”
“Oh! you'll understand fast enough if you just bend down here and listen! The comedy is probably just beginning!”
“What comedy?”
“Hush! don't talk so loud! The comedy of humbugging you. This morning, when you went away with the prince, Maria Alexandrovna spent a whole hour talking Zina over into marrying the old man! She told her that nothing was easier than to lure the prince into marrying her; and all sorts of other things that were enough to make one sick! Zina agreed. You should have heard the pretty way in which you were spoken of! They think you simply a fool! Zina said plump out that she would never marry you! Listen now, listen!”
“Why—why—it would be most godless cunning,” Paul stammered, looking sheepishly into Nastasia's eyes.