"I tell you what," said Prince Valkovsky, as he seated himself beside me in the carriage, "what if we were to go to supper now, hein? What do you say to that?"
"I don't know, prince," I answered, hesitating, "I never eat supper."
"Well, of course, we'll have a talk, too, over supper," he added, looking intently and slyly into my face.
There was no misunderstanding! "He means to speak out," I thought; "and that's just what I want." I agreed.
"That's settled, then. To B.'s, in Great Morskaya."
"A restaurant?" I asked with some hesitation.
"Yes, why not? I don't often have supper at home. Surely you won't refuse to be my guest?"
"But I've told you already that I never take supper."
"But once in a way doesn't matter; especially as I'm inviting you. . ."
Which meant he would pay for me
