“I don’t care to … in a large party,” I muttered, not raising my eyes.
“You prefer a tête-à-tête?… Well, freedom to the free, and heaven to the saints,” she commented with a sigh. “Go along, Byelovzorov, and bestir yourself. I must have a horse for to-morrow.”
“Oh, and where’s the money to come from?” put in the old princess.
Zinaïda scowled.
“I won’t ask you for it; Byelovzorov will trust me.”
“He’ll trust you, will he?” … grumbled the old princess, and all of a sudden she screeched at the top of her voice, “Duniashka!”
“Maman, I have given you a bell to ring,” observed Zinaïda.
“Duniashka!” repeated the old lady.
Byelovzorov took leave; I went away with him. Zinaïda did not try to detain me.