“I will wait and hope,” he said in a low tone. “If only I might, like Vikentev, call you Grandmother.”
She signed to him to leave her. When he had gone she dropped on to her chair, and covered her face with her handkerchief.
CHAPTER XXXV
Raisky had written to Paulina Karpovna asking her if he might call the next day about one o’clock. Her answer ran: “Charmée, j’attends....” and so on.
He found her in her boudoir in a stifling atmosphere of burning incense, with curtains drawn to produce a mysterious twilight. She wore a white muslin frock with wide lace sleeves, with a yellow dahlia at her breast. Near the divan was placed a sumptuously spread table with covers for two.
Raisky explained that he had come to make a farewell call.
“A farewell call! I won’t hear of such a thing. You are joking, it is a bad joke! No, no! Smile and take back the hated word,” she protested, slipping her arm in his and leading him to the table. “Don’t think of going away. Vive l’amour et la joie.”
She invited him with a coquettish gesture to be seated, and hung a table napkin over his coat, as she might to a child. He devoted an excellent morning appetite to the food before him. She poured out champagne for him and watched him with tender admiration.