"Miss Janina will be here in a minute," answered Mrs. Krenska, a sort of housekeeper and duenna in one person, a pretty blonde with expressive features.
"What are you preparing for dinner?"
"The Director's favorite dish; chicken fricassee, sorrel soup, and cutlets."
"Extravagance! By God, what extravagance! Soup and one kind of meat is enough even for a king! You will ruin me!"
"But Mr. Director . . . I ordered this meal prepared especially for you, sir—"
"Bosh! You women have nothing in your heads but fricassees, sweets, and dainties. All that is bosh!"
"You judge us unfairly, sir; we generally economize more than men do."
"Aha! You economize so that you can later buy yourselves more fineries . . . I know, you needn't tell me."
Mrs. Krenska did not answer, but began to set the table for dinner.
Just then, Janina entered. She was a girl of about twenty-two, tall, well-formed, and broad-shouldered. Her features were not very regular; she had black eyes, a straight forehead, a trifle too broad, dark eyebrows strongly accented, a Roman nose, and full glowing lips. Her eyes had a deep expression indicating an introspective nature; her lips were tightly drawn together in what seemed to be a semblance of dignity or hidden temper. Two deep lines clouded her clear forehead. Gorgeous, wavy blonde hair, with a reddish tinge, crowned her small round head. Her amber-gold complexion had the mellowness of a ripe peach. There was something strange about her voice: an alto that at times dropped into a deep baritone of almost masculine accents.