"Did he take the dismissal to heart?"
"I cannot tell," answered she, feverishly. "If he had wished, he might have gone sooner. But he was a madman, and this explains everything. Why did he not go sooner?"
Svirski looked at her very attentively.
"Calm yourself," said he.
But she, mistaken as to the meaning of his words, answered,—
"There is so much that for me is disagreeable in this, and there may be so much trouble. Who knows but I shall have to give some explanation, some evidence—can I tell what? Oh, a fatal history!—besides there will be people's gossip. First, Vyadrovski's— But I wanted to beg you to tell among acquaintances, that that unfortunate lost at play, that he lost even some of my money, and that that was the cause of his act. Should it come to testifying before a court, it would be better not to say this, for it might be proved untrue; but before people, it is necessary to talk so. If he had gone even to Mentone, or to Nice! Besides, God only knows whether he has not written something before his death purposely to take revenge on me! Only let a letter of that sort reach the papers after his death! From such persons everything may be expected. As it was, I wished to leave here; but now I must—"
Svirski looked more and more attentively at her angry face, at her compressed lips, and said at last,—
"An unheard of thing!"
"Really unheard of! But would it not increase gossip were we to go from here to-morrow?"
"I do not think it would," said Svirski.