Her lips had been parted in expectation. She pressed them together, and seemed to reflect.
“That’s all right.”
This had a sound of finality, but she did not leave him. It was impossible to guess what she had in her mind. Razumov muttered—
“It is not of me that you should have asked that question. In a moment you shall see Peter Ivanovitch himself, and the subject will come up naturally. He will be curious to know what has delayed you so long in this garden.”
“No doubt Peter Ivanovitch will have something to say to me. Several things. He may even speak of you—question me. Peter Ivanovitch is inclined to trust me generally.”
“Question you? That’s very likely.”
She smiled, half serious.
“Well—and what shall I say to him?”
“I don’t know. You may tell him of your discovery.”
“What’s that?”