"I beg for your hand!" he murmured in the same tone.
They glanced straight into each other's eyes and both suddenly became gloomy. Janina knitted her brows and began unconsciously to tear her unfinished wreath with her teeth, while Kotlicki bowed his head and became silent.
"Come, let us hurry, we shall be late for the performance!" called someone, and they hastened to catch up with the rest of the company.
"So to-morrow there is to be a read rehearsal of my play?" Glogowski was asking Topolski.
"To be exact, it will be only a reading of the play itself, for
Dobek has not yet finished writing out the roles," answered
Topolski.
"Great Scott! and when do you expect to present it?"
"Don't fear, the Philistines will hiss and hoot you soon enough, without your hurrying!" Kotlicki twitted him.
"We shall present it in a week from next Tuesday . . . at least I would have it so," replied Topolski.
"Or, strictly speaking, there will remain for rehearsals and for the learning of the roles only four days. No one will know his part, no one will be able to master it even passably in so short a time. That's nothing short of murder, cold-blooded murder!" cried Glogowski.
"You'll treat Dobek to a few whiskeys and he will safely pull the play through for you," suggested Wawrzecki.