'Not with me,' repeated Byelovzorov. 'As you wish. Well, I shall find you a horse.'
'Yes, only mind now, don't send some old cow. I warn you I want to gallop.'
'Gallop away by all means ... with whom is it, with Malevsky, you are going to ride?'
'And why not with him, Mr. Pugnacity? Come, be quiet,' she added, 'and don't glare. I'll take you too. You know that to my mind now Malevsky's – ugh!' She shook her head.
'You say that to console me,' growled Byelovzorov.
Zinaida half closed her eyes. 'Does that console you? O ... O ... O ... Mr. Pugnacity!' she said at last, as though she could find no other word. 'And you, M'sieu' Voldemar, would you come with us?'
'I don't care to ... in a large party,' I muttered, not raising my eyes.
'You prefer a tête-à-tête?... Well, freedom to the free, and heaven to the saints,' she commented with a sigh. 'Go along, Byelovzorov, and bestir yourself. I must have a horse for to-morrow.'
'Oh, and where's the money to come from?' put in the old princess.
Zinaida scowled.