Mariana’s eyes glistened.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
“And Nejdanov?”
Mariana shrugged her shoulders.
“What of Nejdanov? We shall go together ... or I will go alone.”
Solomin looked at her intently.
“Do you know, Mariana ... excuse the coarse expression ... but, to my mind, combing the scurfy head of a gutter child is a sacrifice; a great sacrifice of which not many people are capable.”
“I would not shirk that, Vassily Fedotitch.”
“I know you would not. You are capable of doing that and will do it, until something else turns up.”
“But for that sort of thing I must learn of Tatiana!”