At lunch they did not talk of art, because Pan Stanislav remembered his news from Warsaw, and said,—
“I had a letter from Mashko.”
“And I, too,” answered Bukatski.
“And thou? They must be hurried there; Mashko must be pressed in real earnest. Is the question known to thee?”
“He persuades me, or rather, he implores me, to buy—dost thou know what?”
Bukatski avoided Kremen, knowing well what trouble it had caused, and was silent through delicacy toward Marynia.
But Pan Stanislav, understanding his intention, said,—
“Oh, my God! Once we avoided that name as a sore spot, but now, before my wife, it is something different. It is hard to be tied up a whole lifetime.”
Bukatski looked at him quickly; Marynia blushed a little, and said,—
“Stas is perfectly right. Besides, I know that it is a question of Kremen.”