He positively flushed with determination.
"Of course one can expect nothing else from you," said Varvara Petrovna indignantly.

It was clear to her now that they all knew something and, at the same time, that they were all scared, that they were evading her questions, and anxious to keep something from her.
The footman came in and brought her, on a little silver tray, the cup of coffee she had so specially ordered, but at a sign from her moved with it at once towards Marya Timofyevna.
"You were very cold just now, my dear; make haste and drink it and get warm." _"Merci."_ Marya Timofyevna took the cup and at once went off into a giggle at having said _merci_ to the footman.

But meeting Varvara Petrovna's reproving eyes, she was overcome with shyness and put the cup on the table.
"Auntie, surely you're not angry ?" she faltered with a sort of flippant playfulness.
"Wh-a-a-t ?" Varvara Petrovna started, and drew herself up in her chair.
"I'm not your aunt.

What are you thinking of ?" Marya Timofyevna, not expecting such an angry outburst, began trembling all over in little convulsive shudders, as though she were in a fit, and sank back in her chair.
"I...

I...