Maria Ivanovna looked at him in surprise and anger. Her eyes seemed to say: “What is that to you, since you are not going to marry her?”
“I don’t know. Probably in her room,” she coldly replied.
Volochine shot another glance at his companion.
“Can’t you manage to make Lida come down quickly?” it said. “This old woman’s becoming a bore.”
Sarudine opened his mouth and feebly twisted his moustache.
“I have heard so many flattering things about your daughter,” began Volochine, smiling, and rubbing his hands, as he bent forward to Maria Ivanovna, “that I hope to have the honour of being introduced to her.”
Maria Ivanovna wondered what this insolent little _roué_ could have heard about her own pure Lida, her darling child, and again she had a terrible presentiment of the latter’s downfall. It utterly unnerved her, and for the moment her eyes had a softer, more human expression.
“If they are not turned out of the house,” thought Sanine, at this juncture, “they will only cause further distress to Lida and Novikoff.”
“I hear that you are going away?” he suddenly said, looking pensively at the floor.
Sarudine wondered that so simple an expedient had occurred to him before. “That’s it! A good idea. Two months’ leave!” he thought, before hastily replying.
“Yes, I was thinking of doing so. One wants a change you know. By stopping too long in one place, you are apt to get rusty.”
Sanine laughed outright. The whole conversation, not one word of which expressed their real thoughts and feelings, all this deceit, which deceived nobody, amused him immensely; and with a sudden sense of gaiety and freedom he got up, and said:
“Well, I should think that the sooner you went, the better!”
In a moment as if from each a stiff, heavy garb had fallen off, the other three persons became changed. Maria Ivanovna looked pale and shrunken, Volochine’s eyes expressed animal fear, and Sarudine slowly and irresolutely rose.
“What do you mean?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
Volochine tittered, and looked about nervously for his hat.
Sanine did not reply to the question, but maliciously handed Volochine the hat. From the latter’s open mouth a stifled sound escaped like a plaintive squeak.
“What do you mean by that?” cried Sarudine angrily, aware that he was losing his temper. “A scandal!” he thought to himself.