“Azoryan,” corrected Plavitski, with emphasis and dignity.
And the two old men looked at each other with astonishment, neither knowing what the other wanted, and this to the great delight of Bukatski, who, raising his monocle, said,—
“How is that, Aryan or Azoryan?”
Pan Stanislav put an end to the misunderstanding by explaining that Azorya was the name of the family escutcheon of the Ploshovskis, that therefore it was possible to be at once an Aryan and an Azoryan; to which Plavitski agreed unwillingly, making the parenthetical remark that whoso bears a decent name, need not be ashamed of it, nor modify it.
Bukatski, turning to Pani Emilia, began to converse in his usual frigid tone,—
“One kind of suicide alone do I consider justifiable, suicide for love; therefore I am persuading myself for a number of years to it, but always in vain.”
“They say that suicide is cowardice,” put in Marynia.
“This is a reason too why I do not take my life: I am excessively brave.”
“Let us not speak of death, but of life,” said Bigiel, “and of that which is best in it, health. To the health of Pani Emilia!”
“And Litka,” added Pan Stanislav.