"You ask what I mean by grateful and ungrateful hearts," said he, turning to Marynia, though she had not asked about anything. "A grateful heart is one which feels when it is loved, and is moved by love; and in return for the loving, loves more and more, yields itself more and more, prizes the loving, and honors it. The ungrateful heart gets all it can from the love given; and the more certain it feels of this love, the less it esteems it, the more it disregards and tramples it. It is enough to love a woman with an ungrateful heart, to make her cease loving. The fisherman is not concerned for the fish in the net; therefore Pani Osnovski does not care for Pan Osnovski. In the essence of the argument this is the rudest form of egotism in existence,--it is simply African; and therefore God guard Osnovski, and may the Evil One take her, with her Chinese eyes of violet color, and her frizzled forelock! To paint such a woman is pleasant, but to marry--we are not such fools. Will you believe it, I am in so much dread of an ungrateful heart that I have not married so far, though my fortieth year has sounded distinctly?" "But it is so easy to recognize such a heart," said Marynia. "May the Evil One take what is bad!" answered Svirski. "Not so easy, especially when a man has lost sense and reason." Bending his athletic form, he looked at the sketch some time, and said,-- "Well, enough for to-day. As it is, I have talked so continuously that flies must have dropped from the walls. To-morrow, if you hear too much, just clap your hands. I do not talk so with Pani Osnovski, because she herself likes to talk. But how many titles of books have I heard? Enough of this! I wanted to say something more, but have forgotten. Ah! this is it,--you have a grateful heart." Pan Stanislav laughed, and invited Svirski to dinner, promising him the society of Bukatski and Vaskovski. "With great delight," answered Svirski; "I am as much alone here as a wild beast. As the weather is clear and the moon full, we will go later to see the Colosseum by moonlight." The dinner took place, however, without Bukatski's mental hobbies, for he felt out of health, and wrote that he could not come. But Svirski and Vaskovski suited each other excellently, and became friends right away. Only while he was working did Svirski let no one have a word; in general, he liked to hear others, knew how to listen, and, though the professor and his views seemed to him comical sometimes, so much sincerity and kindness was evident in the old man that it would have been difficult for him not to win people. His mystic face and the expression of his eyes struck the artist. He sketched him a little in his mind; and, while listening to his talk about the Aryans, he thought how that head would look if all that was in it were brought out distinctly.