There is the trunk. You see yourself I couldn't unpack it now."
The trunk, close to the wall, was covered with oil cloth and tied
tight with heavy cords. The captain's wife devoured it with her eyes.
She would have liked to see through and through it. She had nothing to
say in reply, because it certainly was impossible to ask her friend,
tired out from her recent journey, to begin to unpack right away and
take out all her things just to show her her new dress. Yet she could
not tear her eyes away from the trunk. There was a magic in it that
held her enthralled. Had she been alone she would have begun to unpack
it herself, nor even have asked the help of a servant to undo the
knots. Now there was nothing left for her but to turn her eyes
sorrowfully away from the fascinating object and take up another topic
of conversation to which she would be utterly indifferent. But she
couldn't think of anything else to talk about. Mrs. Shaldin must have
prepared herself beforehand. She must have suspected something. So now
Mrs. Zarubkin pinned her last hope to Abramka's inventiveness. She
glanced at the clock.
"Dear me," she exclaimed, as if surprised at the lateness of the hour.
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