“Whither goest thou, Georgy?” she inquired as she came near.
“Must I tell, Virgine?”
“Either that or take me with you.”
“What! to the woods?”
“And why not? I long for a ramble in the woods. Wicked brother! you never indulge me.”
“Why, sister, you never asked me before.”
“Even so, you might know that I desired it. Who would not wish to go wandering in the woods? Oh! I wish I were a wild bird, or a butterfly, or some other creature with wings; I should wander all over those beautiful woods, without asking you to guide me, selfish brother.”
“Any other day, Virgine, but to-day—”
“Why, but? Why not this very day? Surely it is fine—it is lovely!”
“The truth, then, sister—I am not exactly bound for the woods to-day.”