Maria Ivanovna thought that he had sneezed on purpose to annoy her, and, absurd though such a notion was, looked cross.
“How nice it is to be here, with you!” said Sanine, dreamily.
“Yes, it’s not so bad,” she answered, drily. She was secretly pleased at her son’s praise of the house and garden that to her were as lifelong kinsfolk.
Sanine looked at her, and then said, thoughtfully:
“If you didn’t bother me with all sorts of silly things, it would be nicer still.”
The bland tone in which these words were spoken seemed at variance with their meaning, so that Maria Ivanovna did not know whether to be vexed or amused.
“To look at you, and then to think that, as a child, you were always rather odd,” said she, sadly, “and now—”
“And now?” exclaimed Sanine, gleefully, as if he expected to hear something specially pleasant and interesting.
“Now you are more crazy than ever!” said Maria Ivanovna sharply, shaking her spoon.
“Well, all the better!” said Sanine, laughing. After a pause, he added, “Ah! here’s Novikoff!”