“I decline the honour. Bonjour, Natalie Ivanovna, where did you buy that pretty hat, at Madame Pichet’s?”
“My husband ordered it from Moscow, as a surprise for me.”
“Very pretty.”
“But listen seriously,” cried Niel Andreevich insistently. “I am going to woo you in earnest. I need a housekeeper, a modest woman, who is no coquette, and has no taste for finery, who never glances at another man, and you are an example.”
Paulina Karpovna pretended not to hear, but fanned herself and attempted to draw Raisky into a conversation.
“In our esteem,” went on Niel Andreevich, pitilessly, “you are a model for our mothers and daughters. At church your eyes remain fixed on the sacred picture without a moment’s diversion, and never even perceive the presence of young men....”
The giggling in the corner increased, the ladies made faces in their efforts to restrain their laughter, and Tatiana Markovna tried to divert Niel Andreevich’s attention from her guest, by herself addressing her, but he returned to the attack.
“You are as retiring as a nun,” he went on, “never display your arms and shoulders, but bear yourself in accordance with your years.”
“Why don’t you leave me alone?” returned Paulina Karpovna, and turning to Raisky she added: “Est-il bête, grossier.”
“Because I wish to marry you, we are a suitable pair.”