"Let him come in," says Nita, and as Nikolai enters, adds
indifferently: "Take a seat and amuse yourself as you can. There is a
book of Leech's caricatures. Sonia will be back soon; her father
unexpectedly arrived, and she has gone to the exhibition with him; but
they are to lunch with me. You are also cordially invited if you choose
to accept. Meanwhile, permit me to finish my accounts." With pen in
hand, she has led him from the drawing-room where the writing-table
stands into the pretty little cosey corner, and now wishes to leave him
and return to her work. With an imploring glance he withholds her.
"I am not in the mood to look at picture-books," says he. "If you
cannot let your accounts wait, I will come another time."
"How sensitive you are! I would have thought that we two were beyond
the plane of common politeness, at least as far as I am concerned."
She puts down the pen, and sitting down on the little sofa in the cosey
corner, motions him to an armchair.
"I have a confidence for you, Fraeulein," murmurs Nikolai.
"I thought so," replies Nita. Over her finely chiselled white face
trembles something like a difficultly suppressed smile.
"It is so hard," he continues. "Will you not help me a little?"
"No," says she, energetically. "I have not the slightest wish to assist
your awkward circumlocutions." And with friendly playfulness she adds:
"How can one find so hard something which is so easy?"
How cordially and unconstrainedly she looks at him!
An uneasy sensation takes possession of him.
"So easy!" murmurs he, hoarsely. "Do you find it so easy to ask a
question on whose answer depends the happiness of our whole life?"
"If one can be so sure of the answer," says she, still playfully,
mockingly, but very good-naturedly.
"Sure?" His eyes rest penetratingly on her face. Nikolai feels very
unpleasantly, but still can no longer be silent.
"I am designated to Washington," stammers he, hastily rushing through
the words. "I start to-morrow evening. May I come back in the autumn
to--fetch you?"