“Ahem, it depends upon—but now, Abramka, remember this is just between you and me—it depends upon Mrs. Shaldin.”
“Upon Mrs. Shaldin, the doctor’s wife? Why she isn’t even here.”
“That’s just it. That is why I have to wait. How is it that a clever man like you, Abramka, doesn’t grasp the situation?”
“Hm, hm! Let me see.” Abramka racked his brains for a solution of the riddle. How could it be that Mrs. Shaldin, who was away, should have anything to do with Mrs. Zarubkin’s order for a gown? No, that passed his comprehension.
“She certainly will get back in time for the ball,” said Mrs. Zarubkin, to give him a cue.
“Well, yes.”
“And certainly will bring a dress back with her.”
“Certainly!”
“A dress from abroad, something we have never seen here—something highly original.”
“Mrs. Zarubkin!” Abramka cried, as if a truth of tremendous import had been revealed to him. “Mrs. Zarubkin, I understand. Why certainly! Yes, but that will be pretty hard.”