"Why do you smile? There are good girls among——"
"Quite possible," Kirik interrupted, "but you needn't be quite so frank about it."
"These are cultivated people," said Ilya, "if I say anything that is unusual, they won't be offended."
A whole sheaf of bright sparks shot up suddenly in his breast; a sneering smile appeared on his face, and he felt almost choked with the flood of words that poured from his brain.
"This girl had stolen some money from a merchant."
"Better and better," cried Kirik, and shook his head with a comical grimace.
"You can readily imagine under what circumstances she stole it, but perhaps she did not steal it, perhaps he gave it to her."
"Tanitshka!" cried Kirik, "come here a minute! Ilya's telling such anecdotes."
But Tatiana was already close to Ilya, and said with a forced smile and a shrug of her shoulders: "What's the fuss about? It's a very ordinary story; you, Kirik, know hundreds of cases like that, there are no young girls here. But let us leave that till later, shan't we?—and now we'll have something to eat."
"Yes, of course," cried Kirik, "I'm ready, he! he! Clever conversation is all very well, but——"