'I don't believe you care a fig what becomes of me!' said Mrs. Huston at length in a reckless way.
He looked at her with a slow grave smile, but made no other answer.
'Do you?' she asked coquettishly.
He was quite grave now, and her breathing became slightly accelerated.
'Yes!' quite simply.
Presently Trist roused himself, as if from unpleasant reflections, and began talking about the future.
'I should like to know,' he said, 'exactly what you think of doing, because I have not much time. At any moment Russia may declare war against Turkey, and I shall have to go at once.'
'If Russia declares war, I shall kill myself, I think.'
He laughed, and changed his position, drawing in his feet, and leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees.
'No,' he said with genial energy, 'I would not do that, if I were you. If I may be allowed to make a suggestion, it seems to me that you will do well to come to a distinct understanding with Huston, either through the mediation of Mrs. Wylie or by letter. You cannot go on long like this.'