“You remember what you said once, that you would like to have enough to establish a manufactory, and not carry on a mercantile house. I remember that; and since every one has personal wishes, I should like to have much, much money.”
Then, thinking that she might have said too much, and said it too definitely, she began to straighten the fold of her dress, so as to incline her head.
“I came, for another thing, to beg your pardon,” said Pan Stanislav. “To-day at dinner I told a pack of nonsense to Pan Plavitski, saying that Panna Ploshovski had changed her will, perhaps, and left him a whole estate. Beyond my expectation he took it seriously. I should not wish to have him deceive himself; and if you will permit me, I will go at once to him and explain the matter somehow.”
“I have explained it to him already,” said Marynia, smiling; “he scolded me, and that greatly. You see how you have involved matters. You have cause indeed to beg pardon.”
“Therefore I beg.”
And, seizing her hand, he began to cover it with kisses; and she left it with him completely, repeating as if in sarcasm, but with emotion,—
“Ah, the wicked Pan Stas, the wicked Pan Stas!”
That day Pan Stanislav felt on his lips till he fell asleep the warmth of Marynia’s hand; and he thought neither of Mashko nor Gantovski, but repeated to himself with great persistence,—
“It is time to decide this.”