gazing at her daughter and in that contemplation seemed to have forgotten all she had wished to say.
“It won’t do, my love! Not everyone will understand this friendship dating from your childish days, and to see him so intimate with you may injure you in the eyes of other young men who visit us, and above all it torments him for nothing. He may already have found a suitable and wealthy match, and now he’s half crazy.”
“Crazy?” repeated Natásha.
“I’ll tell you some things about myself. I had a cousin …”
“I know! Kiríla Matvéich … but he is old.”
“He was not always old. But this is what I’ll do, Natásha, I’ll have a talk with Borís. He need not come so often. …”
“Why not, if he likes to?”
“Because I know it will end in nothing. …”
“How can you know?