'That's what it is to be young!'─Madame Sipyagin turned to Kallomyetsev; 'you and I don't care about these things now─eh?'
Kallomyetsev smiled sympathetically; he was bound to bear with the lady's jesting humour.
'Marianna Vikentyevna,' he began, 'is filled with the idealism . . . the romanticism of youth . . . which in time . . .'
'But I am slandering myself,' Madame Sipyagin interrupted: 'I take an interest in such questions too. I'm not quite elderly yet, you know.'
'And I take an interest in all such subjects,' Kallomyetsev exclaimed hurriedly; 'only I would forbid talking about it.'
'You would forbid talking about it?' Marianna repeated inquiringly.
'Yes! I would say to the public: I don't hinder your taking an interest . . . but as for talking . . . hush!'─he put his finger to his lips 'any way, talking in print─I would prohibit─unconditionally!'
Madame Sipyagin laughed.
'What? You would have a commission appointed in some department to decide the question, wouldn't you?'
'And why not a commission? Do you think we should decide the question worse than all
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