Two: I must see the end of this tragedy. Three: I must
close _my_ bit of an account with some people. Four: All I have is not
enough to pay for this room,--so no trips for me. Five: ..."
"Stop! Stop!" she exclaimed, and crawling into my lap, continued:
"My poor boy! That--is killing! I know why you are so poor! You spent
every penny on others! You had some earnings! And to think of all you
were bringing to me in Tumen ... then you did not care even, but just
to be hospitable to an intruder.... And other things.... How can I
repay you!..."
"There are no reasons for crying on this account. Forget it please.
Don't put me in the light of a benefactor,--I hate it."
"No, no! I feel so guilty now. I'll give you money."
"Don't offend me. All I want is not to be an idiot in the future and
not to lose you. So I have said it,--and it is said. When it comes
to stubbornness--I hardly think anybody could beat me. So just
understand: _I am going to stay_ where you are, and if you try this
time to get away, I'll have to take measures. I'll kidnap you.
I'll put you in a place where no 'Navy-Cut' is smoked. Now--it _is_
serious. Understand?"
We talked, and argued, and even quarrelled, and again made peace,
until she declared herself beaten. Maybe she was angry; perhaps
scared; but surely greatly flattered. A woman is a woman--always
flattered when she sees persistence.
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