'Well, that's as you please,' he rejoined. 'I know I'm regarded as out-of-date by the present generation; and to be sure, I can't reckon myself . . . among the ranks of those who . . .' He did not complete his sentence. 'Here is Snapotchka bringing us some tea. You must take a cup, and listen to me.. . . Perhaps in my words you may find something of interest to you.'
Mashurina took a cup and a small lump of sugar, and began to sip the tea and nibble at the sugar.
Paklin's laugh was genuine this time.
'It's as well there are no police here, or the Italian Countess . . . what is it?'
'Rocca di Santo Fiume,' said Mashurina, with imperturbable gravity, as she imbibed the scalding liquid.
'Rocca di Santo Fiume!' repeated Paklin, 'and she sips her tea through the sugar! That's too unlikely! The police would be on the alert in a minute.'
'Yes,' observed Mashurina, 'a fellow in uniform bothered me abroad; he kept asking me questions; I couldn't stand it at last. "Let me alone, do, for mercy's sake!" I said.'
'Did you say that in Italian?'
'No, in Russian.'
'And what did he do?'
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