it. … Marriage!" she added, not without a touch of pride. "Of what use was it in Imszanski's case, I beg?"
She just looked into a mirror, hanging opposite her bed, and then swiftly glanced over me from head to foot. The comparison between us must have been not unpleasant, for ishe at once became more cheerful and friendly.
"My dear Miss Janina, Gina's is a nature far too artistic for marriage. No one who can paint like that would ever make a husband of her sweetheart. Pardon me; the thing is absolutely out of the question. … Look at those flowers; with what grace she has dashed them off!"
"They are certainly exquisite. But did you notice how extraordinary an interest Owinski took in what you were saying about marriage last Thursday?"
"Yes, oh, yes; I remember. … But I can't suppose he is thinking of marrying any one else. … No, that is surely impossible."
She was at once in a state of great excitement.
"Look here. Now that marriage is no more than a contract, assuring to the wife board
