“Ah! And have you seen that—What’s her name?” asked Countess Katerina Ivanovna. Mariette gave the name of a celebrated French actress.
“You must go, most decidedly; she is wonderful.”
“Whom am I to see first, ma tante—the actress or the preacher?” Nekhludoff said with a smile.
“Please don’t catch at my words.”
“I should think the preacher first and then the actress, or else the desire for the sermon might vanish altogether,” said Nekhludoff.
“No; better begin with the French Theatre, and do penance afterwards.”
“Now, then, you are not to hold me up for ridicule. The preacher is the preacher and the theatre is the theatre. One need not weep in order to be saved. One must have faith, and then one is sure to be gay.”
“You, ma tante, preach better than any preacher.”
“Do you know what?” said Mariette. “Come into my box to-morrow.”
“I am afraid I shall not be able to.”