but it doesn't arouse antipathy in me. In any case,
your example might even... even ... convert me!"

Kollomietzev could not think of a Russian word, and did not like using a
French one, after what his hostess had said.

"Thank heaven," Valentina Mihailovna remarked, "Mariana does not wear
glasses and has not yet discarded collars and cuffs; but, unfortunately,
she studies natural history, and is even interested in the woman
question. Isn't that so, Mariana?"

This was evidently said to make Mariana feel uncomfortable, but Mariana,
however, did not feel uncomfortable.

"Yes, auntie," she replied, "I read everything I can get hold of on the
subject. I am trying to understand the woman question."

"There is youth for you!" Valentina Mihailovna exclaimed, turning to
Kollomietzev. "Now you and I are not at all interested in that sort of
thing, are we?"

Kollomietzev smiled good-naturedly; he could not help entering into the
playful mood of his amiable hostess.

"Mariana Vikentievna," he began, "is still full of the ideals.. . the
romanticism of youth... which... in time--"

"Heaven, I was unjust to myself," Valentina Mihailovna interrupted him;
"I am also interested in these questions. I am not quite an old lady
yet."

"Of course. So am I in a way," Kollomietzev put in hastily. "Only I
would forbid such things being talked about!"

"Forbid them being talked about?" Mariana asked in astonishment.

"Yes! I would say to the public, 'Interest yourselves in these things as
much as you like, but talk about them... shhh...'" He layed his finger
on his lips.

"I would, at any rate, forbid speaking through the press under any
conditions!"

Valentina Mihailovna laughed.

"What? Would you have a commission appointed by the ministers for
settling these questions?

"Why not? Don't you think we could do it better than these ignorant,
hungry loafers who know nothing and imagine themselves to be men of
genius? We could appoint Boris Andraevitch as president."

Valentina Mihailovna laughed louder still.

"You had better take care, Boris Andraevitch is sometimes such a
Jacobin--"

"Jacko, jacko, jacko," the parrot screamed. Valentina Mihailovna waved
her handkerchief at him. "Don't interrupt an intelligent conversation!
Mariana, do teach him manners!"

Mariana turned to the cage and began stroking the parrot's neck with her
finger; the parrot stretched towards her.

"Yes," Valentina Mihailovna continued, "Boris An