'Do you enjoy riding so much?' Sanin asked, as he overtook her.
Maria Nikolaevna reined her mare in once more: only in this way could she bring her to a stop.
'I only wanted to get away from thanks. If any one thanks me, he spoils my pleasure. You see I didn't do that for his sake, but for my own. How dare he thank me? I didn't hear what you asked me.'
'I asked . . . I wanted to know what makes you so happy to-day.'
'Do you know what,' said Maria Nikolaevna; either she had again not heard Sanin's question, or she did not consider it necessary to answer it. 'I 'm awfully sick of that groom, who sticks up there behind us, and most likely does nothing but wonder when we gentlefolks are going home again. How shall we get rid of him?' She hastily pulled a little pocket-book out of her pocket. 'Send him back to the town with a note? No . . . that won't do. Ah! I have it! What's that in front of us? Isn't it an inn?'
Sanin looked in the direction she pointed. 'Yes, I believe it is an inn.'
'Well, that's first-rate. I 'll tell him to stop at that inn and drink beer till we come back.'
'But what will he think?'
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