United States or Republic of the Congo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
At the question he merely raised his shaggy brows, replying: "Without doubt, Herr Graf. Anæsthesia is now used in every enlightened country in the world. The Herr Doctor has exaggerated its benefits in no particular." Gregoriev sank into his place again with a groan of relief. "Operate, then! Operate at once to-day, if there be time!"
And Anton, watching the outcome of the scene he had planned with so much gusto, felt a sudden pang of intense pity, of remorse, of generosity, shoot through his shrivelled heart. Two minutes later, the Herr Direktor was on the stage, apologizing earnestly for the sudden illness of young Monsieur Gregoriev, who had turned faint as the result of overwork.
It was not strange, then, that the affair of New Year's night had become the sensation of the season. For on this night Prince Gregoriev had vowed a triumph over the massed society of the Mother City.
It was nearing March, and the German tour was verging on its close, when Kashkine came from Petersburg, at Ivan's earnest request, to make one of the party invited, by Frau Cosima, to spend a week at the home of Wagner in Bayreuth. It was with a little reluctance that Gregoriev entered this sanctum of the great magician's world.
Fortune had stationed herself at his shoulder, at last; and the young man did well docilely to obey her whispered directions. In a month, there were a thousand young men about town, far above the station of a Gregoriev, who would have given half their prospects for Ivan's present position.
If ever again she involves herself in a plot, I will come here and surrender." He was interrupted by his father's harsh laugh. "Useful act!" he said. Ivan flushed, but nevertheless repeated, steadily: "Give her her pardon! I've not asked much of you in my life. Do this thing for me. I won't want another." Gregoriev frowned, but seemed to ponder the question.
Can you buy them back? or the decency, honesty, cleanliness, youth, I pawned, for filth and more filth? I am saturated with it. I reek with it. It embraces me with octopus arms. Every kopeck, every rouble, has gone to tighten that embrace. It is not to be loosened. I am hell-bound for eternity. And you speak to me of art! "Leave me, Ivan Gregoriev, to my own. You can never know me. I hate you now.
But I have not as yet suggested a fingering for the cadenza." "No matter. Ivan Gregoriev, Monsieur Rubinstein has brought us a new manuscript a barcarolle, you said, Anton? finished to-day, and brought here to be played to me. He writes a clear hand. Sit down, then, and let us hear you interpret it." "I, madame!" "I said so." Ivan flushed crimson, and then went white again.
It was evident to him that his father, having somewhere beheld a programme of the concert, finding his son's name in famous company, had determined to give him one more chance of favor. He had come to hear the symphony: to find out whether, after all, the last Gregoriev were worth something. And he had found out, indeed!
Regarding the quiet boy whose gold embroidery glittered so bravely in the light, they grew painfully silent; and in that silence secretly reproached the man who put them to such abominable usage. Indeed, Gregoriev himself, always quick to take the temperature of a company, was presently amazed at the tone beginning to prevail over this one.
Word Of The Day