“Briggs,” said Triona.
“Briggs—yes. The only man who knew more than I of Ukranian literature—I a Pole and you an Englishman. Ah, my friend, what has happened since those days?”
“A hell of a lot,” said Triona.
“You may indeed say so,” replied Boronowski. He smiled. “Well?”
“Well?” said Triona.
“What are you, well-dressed and looking prosperous, doing in this—” he waved a hand “—in this sordidity?”
Triona responded with a smile—but at the foreign coinage of a word.
“I’m just wandering about. And you?”
“I’m living here for the moment. Living is costly and funds are scarce. I go back to Warsaw to-morrow—next week—a fortnight——”
“Poland’s a bit upset these days,” said Triona.