“You see, Granny, he has come to see my cousin. Otherwise he would have stayed away longer, wouldn’t he?”
“As soon as I could tear myself away, I came here. Yesterday I was at Kolchino for a minute, with Mama—”
“Is she well?”
“Thanks for the kind thought. She sends her kind regards and begs you not to forget her nameday.”
“Many thanks. I only don’t know whether I can come myself. I am old, and fear the crossing of the Volga.”
“Without you, Granny, Vera and I will not go. We, too, are afraid of crossing the Volga.”
“Be ashamed of yourself, Marfa Vassilievna. What are you afraid of? I will fetch you myself with our boat. Our rowers are singers.”
“Under no circumstances will I cross with you. You never sit quiet in the boat for a minute. What have you got alive in that handkerchief? See, Granny, I am sure it’s a snake.”
“I have brought you a carp, Tatiana Markovna, which I have caught myself. And these are for you, Marfa Vassilievna. I picked the cornflowers here in the rye.”
“You promised not to pick any without me. Now you have not put in an appearance for more than two weeks. The cornflowers are all withered, and what can I do with them?”