'You will go to Italy,' said Bersenyev, without turning towards him,
'and will do nothing. You will always be pluming your wings and never
take flight. We know you!'

'Stavasser has taken flight. . . . And he's not the only one. If I
don't fly, it will prove that I'm a sea penguin, and have no wings. I
am stifled here, I want to be in Italy,' pursued Shubin, 'there is
sunshine, there is beauty.'

A young girl in a large straw hat, with a pink parasol on her
shoulder, came into sight at that instant, in the little path along
which the friends were walking.

'But what do I see? Even here, there is beauty--coming to meet us! A
humble artist's compliments to the enchanting Zoya!' Shubin cried at
once, with a theatrical flourish of his hat.

The young girl to whom this exclamation referred, stopped, threatening
him with her finger, and, waiting for the two friends to come up to
her, she said in a ringing voice:

'Why is it, gentlemen, you don't come in to dinner? It is on the
table.'

'What do I hear?' said Shubin, throwing his arms up. 'Can it be that
you, bewitching Zoya, faced such heat to come and look for us? Dare I
think that is the meaning of your words? Tell me, can it be so? Or
no, do not utter that word; I shall die of regret on the spot'