"My benefactor, you see our goldfinch has flown from the cage."
"I know. Because the cat frightened it."
"Is there not pleasure in talking with such people?" cried the old man, rubbing his hands. "Oh, that is wit! The prelate Tvorkovski would burst with envy, as God is dear to me!"
"I am listening."
"Well, to the question, and straight from the bridge. We should like to take back that goldfinch."
"Why should you not?"
Pan Krepetski moved his chin toward his nose once, and a second time. He was alarmed; the affair went too easily; but he clapped his hands, and cried with feigned joyousness,--
"Well, now the affair is finished! Would to God that such men as you were born everywhere!"
"It is finished so far as I am concerned," said Pan Serafin. "Only there is need to ask that little bird whether she wants to go back again; besides she cannot go back to-day, for your son has so throttled her that she is barely breathing."
"Is she sick?"