“Are you a patient man, prince? I ask out of curiosity,” said Mrs. Epanchin.
All laughed again.
“Oh, that wretched donkey again, I see!” cried the lady. “I assure you, prince, I was not guilty of the least—”
“Insinuation? Oh! I assure you, I take your word for it.” And the prince continued laughing merrily.
“I must say it’s very nice of you to laugh. I see you really are a kindhearted fellow,” said Mrs. Epanchin.
“I’m not always kind, though.”
“I am kind myself, and always kind too, if you please!” she retorted, unexpectedly; “and that is my chief fault, for one ought not to be always kind. I am often angry with these girls and their father; but the worst of it is, I am always kindest when I am cross. I was very angry just before you came, and Aglaya there read me a lesson—thanks, Aglaya, dear—come and kiss me—there—that’s enough,” she added, as Aglaya came forward and kissed her lips and then her hand. “Now then, go on, prince. Perhaps you can think of something more exciting than about the donkey, eh?”
“I must say, again, I can’t understand how you can expect anyone to tell you stories straight away, so,” said Adelaida. “I know I never could!”
“Yes, but the prince can, because he is clever—cleverer than you are by ten or twenty times, if you like. There, that’s so, prince; and seriously, let’s drop the donkey now—what else did you see abroad, besides the donkey?”