With that "papa" begins to read aloud, "The picture of our well-known artist, Svyatetski, 'The Last Meeting,' was bought to-day by Dr. Byalkovski for fifteen hundred rubles."
"That is true," I add. "Antek sold it this morning."
Then I try to embrace Kazia, and again I hear her whisper,—
"Papa will see us—"
My eyes turn involuntarily to Pan Suslovski. I see on a sudden that his face is changing; he shades his eyes with his hands and bends over "The Kite."
What the devil can he find there of such interest?
"Father, what is the matter?" asks Pani Suslovski.
He rises, advances two steps toward us, then halts, transfixes me with a glance, and, clasping his hands begins to nod his head.
"What is the matter?" I ask.
"See how falsehood and crime come always to the surface," answers Suslovski, pathetically. "My dear sir, read to the end, if shame will permit."