he loves you. I'm going, though, or perhaps I shall be too late. You tell him that I have been here . . . sent my greetings to him. Tell him Mashurina has been. You won't forget my name? No, Mashurina. And the letter. . . . Wait a bit, where have I put it to?. . .'
Mashurina stood up, turned away, making a pretence of rummaging in her pockets, but meanwhile she rapidly put into her mouth a little folded scrap of paper and swallowed it. 'Ah, my goodness! What a piece of idiocy! Can I have lost it? Lost it really is. What a misfortune! If any one were to find it! . . . No; it's nowhere. So it has turned out as Sergei Mihalitch wished, after all!'
'Look again,' whispered Marianna.
Mashurina waved her hand.
'No! What's the use? It's lost!'
Marianna went up to her.
'Well, kiss me, then!'
Mashurina suddenly took Marianna in her arms and pressed her to her bosom with more than a woman's force.
'I wouldn't have done that for anybody,' she said thickly, 'it's against my conscience . . . it's the first time! Tell him to be more careful.. . . And you too. Mind! It'll soon be a bad place for you here, very bad. Get away both of you, while . . . Good-bye!' she added
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