“Ah, you are not like those who are led on threads; to do that is most difficult with men who are unsteady.”
Kmita showed in a smile teeth as white as a wolf’s teeth, “How is that?” asked he. “Are the rods few that the fathers broke on me in the monastery to bring me to steadiness and make me remember various fair maxims for guidance in life—”
“And which one do you remember best?”
“‘When in love, fall at the feet,’—in this fashion.”
When he had spoken, Kmita was already on his knees. The lady screamed, putting her feet under the table.
“For God’s sake! they did not teach that in the monastery. Leave off, or I shall be angry—my aunt will come this minute—”
Still on his knees, he raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Let a whole squadron of aunts come; I shall not forbid their pleasure.”
“But stand up!”
“I am standing.”
“Sit down!”