Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume V).djvu/201

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Vladimiritch,' she remarked, as though sympathetically. 'You are wasting your arrows on the empty air. . . . We are not in Russia, and there is no one to hear you.'

Ratmirov was stung.

'That's not merely my opinion, Irina Pavlovna,' he began in a voice suddenly guttural; 'other people too notice that that gentleman has the air of a conspirator.'

'Really? who are these other people?'

'Well, Boris for instance——'

'What? was it necessary for him too to express his opinion?'

Irina shrugged her shoulders as though shrinking from the cold, and slowly passed the tips of her fingers over them.

'Him . . . yes, him. Allow me to remark, Irina Pavlovna, that you seem angry; and you know if one is angry ——'

'Am I angry? Oh, what for?'

'I don't know; possibly you have been disagreeably affected by the observation I permitted myself to make in reference to——'

Ratmirov stammered.

'In reference to?' Irina repeated interrogatively. 'Ah, if you please, no irony, and make haste. I 'm tired and sleepy.'

She took a candle from the table. 'In reference to——?'