“You’d better find someone else for these jobs. I shouldn’t suit you at all,” he brought out at last, dropping his voice in an awfully strange way, almost to a whisper.
Liza flushed crimson.
“What jobs are you speaking of? Mavriky Nikolaevitch,” she cried, “please bring that letter here.”
I too followed Mavriky Nikolaevitch to the table.
“Look at this,” she turned suddenly to me, unfolding the letter in great excitement. “Have you ever seen anything like it. Please read it aloud. I want Mr. Shatov to hear it too.”
With no little astonishment I read aloud the following missive:
“To the Perfection, Miss Tushin. “Gracious Lady “Lizaveta Nikolaevna! “Oh, she’s a sweet queen, Lizaveta Tushin! When on side-saddle she gallops by, And in the breeze her fair tresses fl
