"You say that, my good sir, because you have never been married
yourself." Gedeonovsky listened with a forced smile.

"If I may be so inquisitive," he asked, after a short pause, "for whom
is that pretty scarf intended?"

Marfa Timofyevna gave him a sharp look.

"It's intended," she replied, "for a man who does not talk scandal, nor
play the hypocrite, nor tell lies, if there's such a man to be found in
the world. I know Fedya well; he was only to blame in being too good to
his wife. To be sure, he married for love, and no good ever comes of
those love-matches," added the old lady, with a sidelong glance at Marya
Dmitrievna, as she got up from her place. "And now, my good sir, you may
attack any one you like, even me if you choose; I'm going. I will not
hinder you." And Marfa Timofyevna walked away.

"That's always how she is," said Marya Dmitrievna, following her aunt
with her eyes.

"We must remember your aunt's age...there's no help for it," replied
Gedeonovsky. "She spoke of a man not playing the hypocrite. But who is
not hypocritical nowadays? It's the age we live in. One of my friends, a
most worthy man, and, I assure you, a man of no mean position, used to
say, that nowadays the very hens can't pick up a grain of corn without
hypocrisy--they always approach it from one side. But when I look at
you, dear lady--your character is so truly angelic; let me kiss your
little snow-white hand!"

Marya Dmitrievna with a faint smile held out her plump hand to him with