Solomin smiled his characteristic broad smile.
“Yes, my dear Alexai, it’s always useful. But what do I see? Where are we?”
The last words referred to Mariana, who at that moment appeared in the doorway of her room in a print dress that had been washed a great many times, with a yellow kerchief over her shoulders and a red one on her head. Tatiana stood behind her, smiling good-naturedly. Mariana seemed younger and brighter in her simple garment and looked far better than Nejdanov in his long-skirted coat.
“Vassily Fedotitch, don’t laugh, please,” Mariana implored, turning as red as a poppy.
“There’s a nice couple!” Tatiana exclaimed, clapping her hands. “But you, my dear, don’t be angry, you look well enough, but beside my little dove you’re nowhere.”
“And, really, she is charming,” Nejdanov thought; “oh, how I love her!”
“Look now,” Tatiana continued, “she insisted on changing rings with me. She has given me a golden ring and taken my silver one.”
“Girls of the people do not wear gold rings,” Mariana observed.
Tatiana sighed.
“I’ll take good care of it, my dear; don’t be afraid.”