With a quiet movement she threw one of her heavy plaits over her bosom, and with deft fingers began unplaiting it. She looked straight at him and her eyes laughed.
“Justin? … Oh, I don’t know. Two or three weeks. …”
“You are living with him?” brought out Kornéy.
She let the plait drop from her hands, but immediately caught up her thick hard hair again, and began plaiting it.
“What won’t people invent? I … live with Justin!” She pronounced the name “Justin” with a peculiar ringing intonation. “What an idea! Who said so?”
“Tell me, is it true or not?” said Kornéy, clenching his powerful fists in his pockets.
“What’s the use of talking such rubbish? … Shall I help you off with your boots?”
“I am asking you a question …” he insisted.