‘To show myself,’ she repeated slowly. ‘Very well then, I will go.... Only remember, it is you yourself who desired it.’
‘That’s to say, I——.’ Litvinov was beginning.
‘You yourself have desired it,’ she interposed. ‘And here is one condition more; you must promise me that you will not be at this ball.’
‘But why?’
‘I wish it to be so.’
Litvinov unclasped his hands.
‘I submit ... but I confess I should so have enjoyed seeing you in all your grandeur, witnessing the sensation you are certain to make.... How proud I should be of you!’ he added with a sigh.
Irina laughed.
‘All the grandeur will consist of a white frock, and as for the sensation.... Well, any way, I wish it.’