“And you want to go to town at this hour?”
“I think the governor will still be up.”
“I always said it would end like this,” Kollomietzev put in. “It couldn’t have been otherwise! But what dears our peasants are really! Pardon, madame, c’est votre frère! Mais la vérité avant tout!”
“Do you really intend going to town, Boris?” Valentina Mihailovna asked.
“I feel absolutely certain,” Kollomietzev continued, “that that tutor, Mr. Nejdanov, is mixed up in this. J’en mettrais ma main au feu. It’s all one gang! Haven’t they seized him? Don’t you know?”
Sipiagin waved his wrist again.
“I don’t know—and don’t want to know! By the way,” he added, turning to his wife, “il paraît qu’il sont mariés.”
“Who said so? That same gentleman?” Valentina Mihailovna looked at Paklin again, this time with half-closed eyes.
“Yes.”
“In that case,” Kollomietzev put in, “he must know where they are. Do you know where they are? Do you know? Eh? Do you know?”