Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume VI).djvu/34

Rh 'It's very delightful to hear that, Mr. Ostrodumov.'

The little cripple turned to Mashurina. She sat scowling, and went on deliberately puffing at her cigarette.

'How are you, dear dear  There, how annoying! I always forget your name and your father's.'

Mashurina shrugged her shoulders.

'And there's no need whatever to know them! You know my surname. What more do you want? And what a question: how are you! Can't you see I'm alive all right?'

'True, most true!' cried Paklin, his nostrils dilating and his eyebrows twitching; 'if you weren't alive, your humble servant would not have the pleasure of seeing you here and talking to you! Put my question down to a bad old-fashioned habit. But as for your name and your father's You know it's rather awkward to say baldly, Mashurina! I'm aware, it's true, that you even sign your letters so: Bonaparte! that's to say, Mashurina! But still, in conversation'

'But who asks you to talk tome?'

Paklin laughed nervously, as though he were choking.

'There, that's enough, my dear creature—shake hands, don't be cross; don't I know