As soon as Janina had entered the house, Wladek went to the theater and, meeting Sowinska, held a long and secret conversation with her. The old woman eyed him derisively and promised him her support. Then he hurried away to Krzykiewicz's house for a game of cards, for they would often arrange such card-playing evenings now at this, now at another actor's home, to which they would invite many of their friends from the public. Janina, having entered her room, placed her flowers in a vase with water and, retiring to sleep, gazed once more at the roses and tenderly whispered: "How good he is!" CHAPTER VIII "Please miss, here's the circular!" cried Wicek, entering Janina's room. "What is the news? . . ." "The reading of that new play, or something like that!" he replied prying about the room. Janina signed her name to the circular in which the stage-manager summoned the entire company to appear at noon for the reading of Glogowski's play The Churls. "A fine bouquet!" exclaimed Wicek, eyeing the flowers standing in the vase. "You might still melt it. . . ." "Speak like a human being!" said Janina, handing back the signed paper. "That means I could still sell that bouquet for you." "But who sells such bouquets and who buys them? . . ." "Pardon me, miss, but I see you are still green! Some ladies as soon as they receive flowers, sell them to the old woman who peddles flowers in the evening at the theater. I could get a ruble easy for that. If you would give it to me . . ." "You can't have it. . . . But here's something else for you." Wicek humbly kissed Janina's hand, overjoyed with the ruble she gave him. After Wicek's departure Janina changed the water in the vase with the flowers and was just standing it on the table when Sowinska entered with her breakfast. Sowinska was to-day all radiant: her gray, owlish eyes were beaming with unaccustomed friendliness. The old woman stood the coffee on the table and, pointing to the bouquet, remarked with a smile: "What beautiful flowers! Are they from that gentleman who was here yesterday?" "Yes," came the curt reply. "I know someone who would be very pleased to send you the same kind every day. . . ." Sowinska spoke in a tone of pretended indifference, as she tidied the room. "Flowers?" asked Janina. "Well . . . and something more, if it were accepted." "That person would have to be quite a fool." "Don't you know that love makes fools of everyone?" "That may be," answered Janina curtly. "Don't you surmise who it is?" "I'm not at all curious." "Yet, you know him very well." "Thank you, but I don't need any information." "Don't get angry. . . . What is there wrong in it? . . ." slowly drawled Sowinska. "Ah, so it is you who presume to tell me that? . . ." "Yes I, and you know that I wish you as well as I wish my own daughter." "You wish me as well as your own daughter?" slowly repeated Janina, looking straight into the other's face.