“I thank you.”
When he had said this, he extended his hand to her, for all that he had said was directed only to this, to get possession of her hand. In fact, Pani Mashko did not dare to refuse it; and he, seizing it, pressed it to his lips a second time, but this time he did not stop with one kiss,—he fell to devouring it almost. It grew dark in his eyes. A moment more, and in his madness he would have seized and drawn that desired one toward him. Meanwhile, however, Mashko’s squeaking boots were heard in the adjoining room; hearing which, Pani Mashko began to speak first, hurriedly,—
“My husband is coming.”
At that moment Mashko opened the door, and said,—
“I beg thee.”
Then, turning to his wife, he added,—
“Give command at once to bring tea; we will return soon.”
In fact, the business did not occupy much time, for Pan Stanislav filled out a check, and that was the end. But Mashko treated him to a cigar, and asked him to sit down, for he wished to talk.
“New troubles are rolling on to me,” said he; “but I shall wade out. More than once I have had to do with greater ones. It is only a question of this,—that the sun should get ahead of the dew, and that I should open some new credit for myself, or some new source of income, before the conclusion of the will case, and in support of it.”
Pan Stanislav, all roused up internally, listened to this beginning of confidences with inattention, and chewed his cigar impatiently. On a sudden, however, the dishonest thought came to him that, were Mashko to be ruined utterly, his wife would be a still easier prey; hence he asked dryly,—