Nejdanov and Mariana exchanged glances.
“The day after tomorrow, early in the morning, or the day after that. We can’t wait any longer. As likely as not they’ll tell me to go tomorrow.”
“Well then,” Solomin said, rising from his chair. “I’ll wait for you every morning. I won’t leave the place for the rest of the week. Every precaution will be taken.”
Mariana drew near to him (she was on her way to the door). “Goodbye, my dear kind Vassily Fedotitch ... that is your name, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Goodbye till we meet again. And thank you so much!”
“Goodbye, good night!”
“Goodbye, Nejdanov; till tomorrow,” she added, and went out quickly.
The young men remained for some time motionless, and both were silent.
“Nejdanov ...” Solomin began at last, and stopped. “Nejdanov ...” he began a second time, “tell me about this girl ... tell me everything you can. What has her life been until now? Who is she? Why is she here?”