“You may include that, too,” he said, lighting a cigarette for her; and she blew a ring of smoke at him, saying:
“I may––but I won’t. For goodness sake leave me the last one of my delusions!”
They both laughed and he said she was welcome to her remaining delusion.
“Won’t you share it with me?” she said, her smile innocent enough, save for the audacity of the red mouth.
“Share your delusion?”
“Yes, that too.”
This wouldn’t do. He lighted a cigarette for himself and sauntered over to the piano.
“I hope Vanya’s concert is a success,” he said. “He’s such a charming fellow, Vanya––so considerate, so gentle––” He turned and looked at Marya, and his eyes added: “Why the devil don’t you marry him and have a lot of jolly children?”
There seemed to be in his clear eyes enough for the girl to comprehend something of the question they flung at her.