'It 's the journey,' suggested Litvinov, and he positively blushed with shame.
'Yes, the journey,' repeated Tatyana, and her eyes again glided over him.
'You ought to rest, Tanya darling.'
'Yes, I will go to bed soon, aunt.'
On the table lay a Guide des Voyageurs; Litvinov fell to reading aloud the description of the environs of Baden.
'Quite so,' Kapitolina Markovna interrupted, 'but there 's something we mustn't forget. I 'm told linen is very cheap here, so we must be sure to buy some for the trousseau.'
Tatyana dropped her eyes.
'We have plenty of time, aunt. You never think of yourself, but you really ought to get yourself some clothes. You see how smart every one is here.'
'Eh, my love! what would be the good of that? I 'm not a fine lady! It would be another thing if I were such a beauty as your friend, Grigory Mihalitch, what was her name?'
'Why, that we met to-day.'
'Oh, she!' said Litvinov, with feigned indifference, and again he felt disgust and shame. 'No!' he thought, 'to go on like this is impossible.'
He was sitting by his betrothed, while a few