“You will see.”
“But do you know them?”
“Not at all! But listen. Do think over my suggestion thoroughly. It seems to me a brilliant one. Markelov is Sipiagin’s brother-in-law, his wife’s brother, isn’t that so? Would this gentleman really make no attempt to save him? And as for Nejdanov himself, granting that Mr. Sipiagin is most awfully angry with him, still he has become a relation of his by marrying you. And the danger hanging over our friend—”
“I am not married,” Mariana observed.
Paklin started.
“What? Haven’t managed it all this time! Well, never mind,” he added, “one can pretend a little. All the same, you will get married directly. There seems nothing else to be done! Take into consideration the fact that up until now Sipiagin has not persecuted you, which shows him to be a man capable of a certain amount of generosity. I see that you don’t like the expression—well, a certain amount of pride. Why should we not take advantage of it? Consider for yourself!”
Mariana raised her head and passed her hand through her hair.
“You can take advantage of whatever you like for Markelov, Mr. Paklin ... or for yourself, but Alexai and I do not desire the protection or patronage of Mr. Sipiagin. We did not leave his house only to go knocking at his door as beggars. The pride and generosity of Mr. Sipiagin and his wife have nothing whatever to do with us!”
“Such sentiments are extremely praiseworthy,” Paklin replied (“How utterly crushed!” he thought to himself), “though, on the other hand, if you think of it.... However, I am ready to obey you. I will exert myself only on Markelov’s account, our good Markelov! I must say, however, that he is not his blood relation, but only related to him through his wife—whilst you——”
“Mr Paklin, I beg of you!”