SMOKE
'You shall have them, you shall have them. . . . You are going, M'sieu—Litvinov?'
'Yes, I am going, as you see.'
Ratmirov again bent his body.
'Till we meet again!'
'Good-bye, Grigory Mihalitch,' said Irina. 'I will keep my promise.'
'What is that? May I be inquisitive?' her husband queried.
Irina smiled.
'No, it was only . . . something we 've been talking of. C'est à propos du voyage . . où il vous plaira. You know—Stael's book?'
'Ah ! ah ! to be sure, I know. Charming illustrations.'
Ratmirov seemed on the best of terms with his wife; he called her by her pet name in addressing her.
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