'Grigory,' Irina was saying to him two hours later, as she sat beside him on the sofa, and laid both hands on his shoulder, 'what is the matter with you? Tell me now quickly, while we 're alone.'
'The matter with me?' said Litvinov. 'I am happy, happy, that's what 's the matter with me.'
Irina looked down, smiled, sighed.
'That 's not an answer to my question, my dear one.'
Litvinov grew thoughtful.
'Well, let me tell you then . . . since you insist positively on it' (Irina opened her eyes wide and trembled slightly), 'I have told everything to-day to my betrothed.'
'What, everything? You mentioned me?'
Litvinov fairly threw up his arms.
'Irina, for God's sake, how could such an idea enter your head! that I——'
'There, forgive me . . . forgive me. What did you say?'