All right, bring it."
"Whilst I'm at it, I'll take the money for the visit as well. What
about you, young people--are you on time or for the night? You
know the rates yourself: on time, at two roubles; for the night,
at five."
"All right, all right. On time," interrupted Jennka, flaring up.
"Trust us in that, at least."
The wine was brought. Tamara through importunity got pastry,
besides. Jennka asked for permission to call in Little White
Manka. Jennka herself did not drink, did not get up from the bed,
and all the time muffled herself up in a gray shawl of Orenburg
[Footnote: Orenburg has as high a reputation for woolens as
Sheffield has for steel.--Trans] manufacture, although it was hot
in the room. She looked fixedly, without tearing her eyes away, at
the handsome, sunburned face of Gladishev, which had become so
manly.
"What's the matter with you, dearie?" asked Gladishev, sitting
down on her bed and stroking her hand.
"Nothing special... Head aches a little... I hit myself."
"Well, don't you pay any attention."
"Well, here I've seen you, and already I feel better.
Pages:
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489