esteem your benefactors! . . . Permit me,” this to Jiří, “to call from time to time,” and, inclining his head to him, he added, with a sly whisper: “My daughter may rebel, but the paternal authority will keep her within bounds.”
Jiří opened the door for him. The good father shook his hands, bade the old lady good-bye, and, threatening Lucy with his finger, went away.
Quiet, an oppressive quiet, took possession of the room. Jiří stepped to the window, and drummed the quick measure of a march upon the pane. He suddenly turned to his aunt, who was looking sorrowfully at Lucy:
“We will go into the country to-day.”
“To-day?”
“We will start right after dinner. Get everything ready. I have already ordered a coach.”
He had, indeed, ordered it. He had flown like an arrow out of the coffeehouse. A real hell was seething within him. They
