him, getting up and making a bow; 'but I have already had a good deal of conversation with you; that 's to say, really, I have talked alone, and you have probably noticed yourself that a man is always as it were ashamed and awkward when he has done all the talking, especially so on a first meeting, as if to show what a fine fellow one is. Good-bye for the present. And I repeat I am very glad to have made your acquaintance.'
'But wait a minute, Sozont Ivanitch, tell me at least where you live, and whether you intend to remain here long.'
Potugin seemed a little put out.
'I shall remain about a week in Baden. We can meet here though, at Weber's or at Marx's, or else I will come to you.'
'Still I must know your address.'
'Yes. But you see I am not alone.'
'You are married?' asked Litvinov suddenly.
'No, good heavens ! . . . what an absurd idea! But I have a girl with me.' . . .
'Oh!' articulated Litvinov, with a face of studied politeness, as though he would ask pardon, and he dropped his eyes.
'She is only six years old,' pursued Potugin. 'She 's an orphan . . . the daughter of a lady . . . a good friend of mine. So we had better meet here. Good-bye.'