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           MadameOlenskadidnotmovewhenhecameupbehindher,andforasecondtheireyesmetinthemirror;thensheturned,threwherselfintohersofa-corner,andsighedout:"There’stimeforacigarette."Hehandedhertheboxandlitaspillforher;andastheflameflashedupintoherfacesheglancedathimwithlaughingeyesandsaid:"Whatdoyouthinkofmeinatemper?"Archerpausedamoment;thenheansweredwithsuddenresolution:"Itmakesmeunderstandwhatyouraunthasbeensayingaboutyou.""Iknewshe’dbeentalkingaboutme.Well?""Shesaidyouwereusedtoallkindsofthings—splendoursandamusementsandexcitements—thatwecouldneverhopetogiveyouhere."MadameOlenskasmiledfaintlyintothecircleofsmokeaboutherlips."Medoraisincorrigiblyromantic.Ithasmadeuptoherforsomanythings!"Archerhesitatedagain,andagaintookhisrisk."Isyouraunt’sromanticismalwaysconsistentwithaccuracy?""Youmean:doesshespeakthetruth?"Herniececonsidered."Well,I’lltellyou:inalmosteverythingshesays,there’ssomethingtrueandsomethinguntrue.Butwhydoyouask?Whathasshebeentellingyou?"Helookedawayintothefire,andthenbackathershiningpresence.Hishearttightenedwiththethoughtthatthiswastheirlasteveningbythatfireside,andthatinamomentthecarriagewouldcometocarryheraway."Shesays—shepretendsthatCountOlenskihasaskedhertopersuadeyoutogobacktohim."MadameOlenskamadenoanswer.Shesatmotionless,holdinghercigaretteinherhalf-liftedhand.