Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume XV).djvu/252



'You're not angry with me, Fyodor Fedoritch?' queried Masha.

'With you, Marya Sergievna? Why, whatever for?'

'The day before yesterday... don't you remember?'

'You were out of humour... that was all.'

'What are we walking in single file for? Give me your arm. That's right.... You were out of humour too.'

'Yes, I was too.'

'But to-day I'm in good humour, eh?'

'Yes, I think so, to-day...'

'And do you know why? Because...'

Masha nodded her head gravely. 'Well, I know why.... Because I am with you,' she added, not looking at Kister.

Kister softly pressed her hand.

'But why don't you question me?...' Masha murmured in an undertone.

'What about?'

'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter.'

'I was waiting for...'

'That's just why I am happy with you,' Masha interrupted him impulsively: 'because you are a gentle, good-hearted person, because you are incapable... parceque vous avez de la délicatesse. One can say that to you: you understand French.'