Pan Stanislav did not indeed like her; but this time, instead of confirming or contradicting, he looked at his wife with a certain curiosity, and that moment her beauty struck him,—her hair flowing in disorder on the pillow, and her small face coming out of the dark waves, just like a flower. Her eyes seemed bluer than usual; through her open mouth was to be seen the row of small white teeth. Pan Stanislav approached her, and said in an undertone,—
“How beautiful thou art to-day!”
And, bending over her, with changed face, he fell to kissing her eyes and mouth.
But every kiss moved her, and each movement caused pain. It was disagreeable, besides, that he had noticed her beauty as if by accident; his expression of face was distasteful to her, and his inattention; therefore she turned away her head.
“Stas, do not kiss me so roughly; thou knowest that I am suffering.”
Then he stood erect, and said with suppressed anger,—
“True; I beg pardon.”
And he went to his room to examine the plan of a certain summer house with a garden, which had been sent to him that morning.