went out into the corridor, and almost cried out aloud. At the very door of the box Dönhof sprang up like some apparition; while behind his back she got a glimpse of the figure of the Wiesbaden critic. The 'literary man's' oily face was positively radiant with malignancy.
'Is it your wish, madam, that I find you your carriage?' said the young officer addressing Maria Nikolaevna with a quiver of ill-disguised fury in his voice.
'No, thank you,' she answered . . . 'my man will find it. Stop!' she added in an imperious whisper, and rapidly withdrew drawing Sanin along with her.
'Go to the devil! Why are you staring at me?' Dönhof roared suddenly at the literary man. He had to vent his feelings upon some one!
'Sehr gut! sehr gut!' muttered the literary man, and shuffled off.
Maria Nikolaevna's footman, waiting for her in the entrance, found her carriage in no time. She quickly took her seat in it; Sanin leapt in after her. The doors were slammed to, and Maria Nikolaevna exploded in a burst of laughter.
'What are you laughing at?' Sanin inquired.
'Oh, excuse me, please . . . but it struck me: what if Dönhof were to have another duel
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