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"
Well
,
all
right
!
All
right
,
my
dear
!
I
shall
put
that
down
to
your
account
.
"
She
was
silent
a
moment
to
get
breath
,
and
to
recover
her
composure
.
"
Well
!
--
and
what
's
the
meaning
of
the
'
poor
knight
,
'
eh
?
"
"
I
do
n't
know
in
the
least
;
I
was
n't
present
when
the
joke
was
made
.
It
is
a
joke
.
I
suppose
,
and
that
's
all
.
"
"
Well
,
that
's
a
comfort
,
at
all
events
.
You
do
n't
suppose
she
could
take
any
interest
in
you
,
do
you
?
Why
,
she
called
you
an
'
idiot
'
herself
.
"
"
I
think
you
might
have
spared
me
that
,
"
murmured
the
prince
reproachfully
,
almost
in
a
whisper
.
"
Do
n't
be
angry
;
she
is
a
wilful
,
mad
,
spoilt
girl
.
If
she
likes
a
person
she
will
pitch
into
him
,
and
chaff
him
.
I
used
to
be
just
such
another
.
But
for
all
that
you
need
n't
flatter
yourself
,
my
boy
;
she
is
not
for
you
.
I
do
n't
believe
it
,
and
it
is
not
to
be
.
I
tell
you
so
at
once
,
so
that
you
may
take
proper
precautions
.
Now
,
I
want
to
hear
you
swear
that
you
are
not
married
to
that
woman
?
"
"
Lizabetha
Prokofievna
,
what
are
you
thinking
of
?
"
cried
the
prince
,
almost
leaping
to
his
feet
in
amazement
.
"
Why
?
You
very
nearly
were
,
anyhow
.
"
