"What a queer sort of woman you are! At one moment you run away from everybody, and the next moment you throw yourself at every one's head."
"At yours, perhaps?" said Malva carelessly. "Not at mine, but at Jakoff's."
"Are you jealous?"
"Hm! Shall we talk to each other straight?" She was seated sideways to him; he could not see her face, as she interjected in a curt tone— "Talk away!"
"Have you quarrelled with Vassili? tell me?"
"I am sure I don't know...." she replied, after a moment's silence. "Why do you want to know?"
"Just out of curiosity."
"I am angry with him."
"Why?"
"He beat me."