'Very well.. . . My dear baron . . .'
The adjutant approached Markelov, clinked his spurs, made a horizontal motion with his arm.. . . 'If you please!' Markelov turned and went out. Paklin—only in imagination, it must be owned, but with bitter sympathy and pity—shook his hand.
'And we'll send our fellows to the factory,' pursued the governor. 'Only there's one thing, Boris; I fancy—this gentleman'—(he indicated Paklin with a turn of his chin)—'gave you some information about your young relation. . . Possibly she is there, in the factory. . . . If so . . .'
'She could not be arrested in any case,' observed Sipyagin profoundly; 'possibly she will come to her senses and return. If you will permit it, I will write her a little note.'
'I shall be obliged if you will. And, of course, you may rest assured.. . . Nous coffrerons le quidam . . . mais nous sommes galants avec les dames . . . et avec celle-là donc!'
'But you are taking no measures with regard to that Solomin!' Kallomyetsev exclaimed, plaintively. He had been all the while on the alert trying to catch the governor's remarks a little aside to Sipyagin. 'I assure you, he's the ringleader! I've an instinct in these things . . . a perfect instinct!'
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