She took her place again and smiled.
"Very gladly. It is no trouble."
She asked me if I would drink a glass of vodka or tea, and whether I wished to eat. Her sincere friendliness brought the tears to my eyes, and my heart became as happy as a bird on a spring morning when the sun rises.
"Excuse me for my plain words," I said, "but I would like to know if it is true what you told me about yourself a little while ago? Or did you wish to joke with me?"
She frowned and answered: "Yes, I am one of them. Why do you ask?"
"It is the first time in my life that I have seen such a girl, and I am ashamed."
"What are you ashamed of? I am not sitting naked." And she laughed low and caressingly.
"Not on your account," I answered. "I am ashamed on my own account—because of my stupidity."
And I told her frankly my opinion of her class of girls. She listened quietly and attentively.
"There are various kinds among us," she said. "There may be some who are even worse than you think. You believe people altogether too readily."