The Gambler by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
page 91 of 229 (39%)
page 91 of 229 (39%)
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"Well, here I am--and instead of a telegram, too!" the
Grandmother at last ejaculated, to dissipate the silence. "What? You were not expecting me?" "Antonida Vassilievna! O my dearest mother! But how on earth did you, did you--?" The mutterings of the unhappy General died away. I verily believe that if the Grandmother had held her tongue a few seconds longer she would have had a stroke. "How on earth did I WHAT?" she exclaimed. "Why, I just got into the train and came here. What else is the railway meant for? But you thought that I had turned up my toes and left my property to the lot of you. Oh, I know ALL about the telegrams which you have been dispatching. They must have cost you a pretty sum, I should think, for telegrams are not sent from abroad for nothing. Well, I picked up my heels, and came here. Who is this Frenchman? Monsieur de Griers, I suppose?" "Oui, madame," assented De Griers. "Et, croyez, je suis si enchante! Votre sante--c'est un miracle vous voir ici. Une surprise charmante!" "Just so. 'Charmante!' I happen to know you as a mountebank, and therefore trust you no more than THIS." She indicated her little finger. "And who is THAT?" she went on, turning towards Mlle. Blanche. Evidently the Frenchwoman looked so becoming in her riding-habit, with her whip in her hand, that she had made an impression upon the old lady. "Who is that woman there?" |
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