You have deceived my husband, poor man,
because he is not as clever as he is good-natured, but you never could
deceive me, try as you would, and the Lord knows, you have tried often
enough. Pah! You good-for-nothing!"
The poor Count had drawn back against the well-filled shop and had turned
deadly pale as she heaped insult upon insult upon him in her incoherent
and foul-mouthed anger. As soon as she paused, exhausted by the effort to
find epithets to suit her hatred of him, he went up to the counter where
Fischelowitz was sitting, very much disturbed at the course events were
taking.
"My dear Count," began the latter, anxious to set matters right, "pray do
not pay any attention--"
"I think I had better say good-bye," answered the Count in a low tone. "We
part on good terms, though you might have said a word for me just now."
"He dare not!" cried Akulina.
"And as for the doll, if you will give it to me, I promise you that you
shall have your fifty marks to-morrow."
"Oho! He knows where to get fifty marks, now!" exclaimed Akulina,
viciously.
Fischelowitz picked up the puppet, which was broken in two in the waist,
so that the upper half of the body hung down by the legs, in a limp
fashion, held only by the little red coat. The tobacconist wrapped it up
in a piece of newspaper without a word and handed it to the Count. He felt
perhaps that the only atonement he could offer for his wife's brutal
conduct was to accede to the request.
"Thank you," said the Count, taking the thing.
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