Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume XI).djvu/165

Rh 'But what makes you in such a hurry about it all of a sudden?'

'There is a reason for being in a hurry, brother.'

'And do you need a lot of money?'

'Yes, a lot. I how can I tell you? I propose getting married.'

Polozov set the glass he had been lifting to his lips on the table.

'Getting married!' he articulated in a voice thick with astonishment, and he folded his podgy hands on his stomach. 'So suddenly?'

'Yes soon.'

'Your intended is in Russia, of course?'

'No, not in Russia.'

'Where then?'

'Here in Frankfort.'

'And who is she?'

'A German; that is, no—an Italian. A resident here.'

'With a fortune?'

'No, without a fortune.'

'Then I suppose your love is very ardent?'

'How absurd you are! Yes, very ardent.'

'And it's for that you must have money?'

'Well, yes yes, yes.'

Polozov gulped down his wine, rinsed his mouth, and washed his hands, carefully wiped