The observation was suggested by the condition of his own appetite.
"Supper ?" repeated the Count, rather vaguely.

"I believe I had forgotten all about it.

I will go presently." "The Count is reserving himself for to-morrow," said an ironical voice in the background.

Akulina entered the shop from the workroom, a guttering candle in a battered candlestick in one hand, and a number of gaily coloured pasteboard boxes tucked under the other arm.

"What is the use of eating to-day when there will be so many good things to-morrow ?" Neither Fischelowitz nor the Count vouchsafed any answer to this thrust.
For the second time, since the Count had entered, however, the tobacconist wore an expression approaching to gravity.