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Supposing he were now to perform this great service for her, would that mean that he could depend upon her for the future? Was any woman to be depended upon? She would wear this dress out and go back to ordering her clothes from Moscow again. But Mrs. Shaldin, she was very different. He could forgive her having brought this one dress along from abroad.
"Now, tell me, you are on good terms with the doctor's men?" "You mean Podmar and Shuchok? Of course, we're friends." "Very well, then go straight to them and try to find out when Mrs. Shaldin is expected back. They ought to know. They must be getting things ready against her return cleaning her bedroom and fixing it up. Do you understand? But be careful to find out right.
Nevertheless, the expression of his face was not so reassuring as usual. "You give me your word of honour?" "Certainly! My name isn't Abramka Stiftik if I " "Well, all right, I will trust you. But be careful. You know of whom you must be careful?" "Who is that, Mrs. Shaldin?" "Oh, you know very well whom I mean. No, you needn't put your hand on your heart.
She was here to see me yesterday and tried in every way she could to find out how my dress is made. But she couldn't get it out of me." Abramka sighed. Mrs. Shaldin seemed to suspect his betrayal. "I am right, am I not? She has not had her dress made yet, has she? She waited to see my dress, didn't she? And she told you to copy the style, didn't she?" Mrs, Shaldin asked with honest naïveté.
His face was gloomy-looking and was covered with a heavy growth of hair. Abramka knew this figure well. It seemed always just to have been awakened from the deepest sleep. "Ah, Shuchok, what do you want?" "Mrs. Shaldin would like you to call upon her," said Shuchok. He behaved as if he had come on a terribly serious mission. "Ah, that's so, your lady has come back. I heard about it.
From the very beginning of the conversation, the two warm friends, it need scarcely be said, were mutually distrustful. Each had the conviction that everything the other said was to be taken in the very opposite sense. They were of about the same age, Mrs. Shaldin possibly one or two years younger than Mrs. Zarubkin. Mrs. Zarubkin was rather plump, and had heavy light hair.
That was evident to everybody, though the captain's wife had her little group of partisans, who maintained with exaggerated eagerness that she looked extraordinarily fascinating in her dress and Mrs. Shaldin still could not rival her. But there was no mistaking it, there was little justice in this contention. Everybody knew better; what was worst of all, Mrs. Zarubkin herself knew better. Mrs.
When the conversation was in full swing, and the samovar was singing on the table, and the pancakes were spreading their appetising odour, the captain's wife suddenly cried: "I wonder what the fashions are abroad now. I say, you must have feasted your eyes on them!" Mrs. Shaldin simply replied with a scornful gesture. "Other people may like them, but I don't care for them one bit.
Our officers don't care a bit how one dresses. They haven't the least taste." "Hm, there's something back of that," thought Mrs. Shaldin. The captain's wife continued with apparent indifference: "I can guess what a gorgeous dress you had made abroad. Certainly in the latest fashion?" "I?" Mrs. Shaldin laughed innocently. "How could I get the time during my cure to think of a dress?
What woman in Russia would have refrained, when abroad, from buying a new dress? Mrs. Shaldin would continue to be his steady customer all the same. The door opened. Abramka rose involuntarily, and clasped his hands in astonishment. "Well," he exclaimed rapturously, "that is a dress, that is My, my!" He was so stunned he could find nothing more to say. And how charming Mrs.
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