Valentina Mihailovna made a grimace.
“Would you not have come otherwise?”
Kollomietzev drew back a pace, horrified at the imputation.
“Valentina Mihailovna!” he exclaimed. “How can you possibly say such a thing?”
“Well, never mind. Sit down. My husband will be here soon. I have sent the carriage to the station to meet him. If you wait a little, you will be rewarded by seeing him. What time is it?”
“Half-past two,” Kollomietzev replied, taking a large gold enamelled watch out of his waistcoat pocket and showing it to Valentina Mihailovna. “Have you seen this watch? A present from Michael, the Servian Prince Obrenovitch. Look, here are his initials. We are great friends—go out hunting a lot together. Such a splendid fellow, with an iron hand, just what an administrator ought to be. He will never allow himself to be made a fool of. Not he! Oh dear no!”
Kollomietzev dropped into an armchair, crossed his legs, and began leisurely pulling off his left glove.
“We are badly in need of such a man as Michael in our province here,” he remarked.
“Why? Are you dissatisfied with things here?”
Kollomietzev made a wry face.