"You give me your word of honour?"
"Certainly! My name isn't Abramka Stiftik if I--"
"Well, all right, I will trust you. But be careful. You know of whom
you must be careful?"
"Who is that, Mrs. Shaldin?"
"Oh, you know very well whom I mean. No, you needn't put your hand on
your heart. She was here to see me yesterday and tried in every way
she could to find out how my dress is made. But she couldn't get it
out of me." Abramka sighed. Mrs. Shaldin seemed to suspect his
betrayal. "I am right, am I not? She has not had her dress made yet,
has she? She waited to see my dress, didn't she? And she told you to
copy the style, didn't she?" Mrs, Shaldin asked with honest naivete.
"But I warn you, Abramka, if you give away the least little thing
about my dress, then all is over between you and me. Remember that."
Abramka's hand went to his heart again, and the gesture carried the
same sense of conviction as of old.
"Mrs. Shaldin, how can you speak like that?"
"Wait a moment."
Mrs. Shaldin left the room. About ten minutes passed during which
Abramka had plenty of time to reflect. How could he have given the
captain's wife a promise like that so lightly? What was the captain's
wife to him as compared with the doctor's wife? Mrs.
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