"That doesn't prove any thing."
"He's grown much more robust," continued Gedeonovsky, looking as if he had not heard Marfa Timofeevna's remark; "his shoulders have broadened, and his cheeks are quite rosy."
"Grown more robust," slowly repeated Maria Dmitrievna. "One would think he hadn't met with much to make him robust."
"That is true indeed," said Gedeonovsky. "Any one else, in his place, would have scrupled to show himself in the world."
"And why, I should like to know?" broke in Marfa Timofeevna. "What nonsense you are talking! A man comes back to his home. Where else would you have him betake himself? And, pray, in what has he been to blame?"
"A husband is always to blame, madam, if you will allow me to say so, when his wife behaves ill."
"You only say that, batyushka,[A] because you have never been married."
[Footnote A: Father.]
Gedeonovsky's only reply was a forced smile. For a short time he remained silent, but presently he said, "May I be allowed to be so inquisitive as to ask for whom this pretty scarf is intended?"
Marfa Timofeevna looked up at him quickly.