We met one another in Paris. He was so kind to me. Then
when he went back to Tiflis I asked him to come to me in that box. Is
the poor fellow ill?"
"No, Mademoiselle Zinca, no."
"Ah! I shall be happy to pay the carriage of my dear Kinko."
"Yes--pay the carriage--"
"It will not be long now?"
"No; this afternoon probably."
I do not know what to say.
"Monsieur," says mademoiselle, "we are going to get married as soon as
the formalities are complied with; and if it is not abusing your
confidence, will you do us the honor and pleasure of being present?"
"At your marriage--certainly. I promised my friend Kinko I would."
Poor girl! I cannot leave her like this. I must tell her everything.
"Mademoiselle Zinca--Kinko--"
"He asked you to come and tell me he had arrived?"
"Yes--but--you understand--he is very tired after so long a
journey--"
"Tired?"
"Oh! do not be alarmed--"
"Is he ill?"
"Yes--rather--rather ill--"
"Then I will go--I must see him--I pray you, sir, come with me to the
station--"
"No; that would be an imprudence--remain here--remain--"
Zinca Klork looked at me fixedly.
"The truth, monsieur, the truth! Hide nothing from me--Kinko--"
"Yes--I have sad news--to give you.
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