“Yes, auntie,” she replied, “I read everything I can get hold of on the subject. I am trying to understand the woman question.”
“There is youth for you!” Valentina Mihailovna exclaimed, turning to Kollomietzev. “Now you and I are not at all interested in that sort of thing, are we?”
Kollomietzev smiled good-naturedly; he could not help entering into the playful mood of his amiable hostess.
“Mariana Vikentievna,” he began, “is still full of the ideals ... the romanticism of youth ... which ... in time—”
“Heaven, I was unjust to myself,” Valentina Mihailovna interrupted him; “I am also interested in these questions. I am not quite an old lady yet.”
“Of course. So am I in a way,” Kollomietzev put in hastily. “Only I would forbid such things being talked about!”
“Forbid them being talked about?” Mariana asked in astonishment.
“Yes! I would say to the public, ‘Interest yourselves in these things as much as you like, but talk about them ... sh.’” He layed his finger on his lips.
“I would, at any rate, forbid speaking through the press under any conditions!”
Valentina Mihailovna laughed.