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I saw Lisaveta Mihalovna too." "Call her Lisa, my dear fellow. Mihalovna indeed to you! But sit still, or you will break Shurotchka's little chair." "She has gone to church," continued Lavretsky. "Is she religious?" "Yes, Fedya, very much so. More than you and I, Fedya." "Aren't you religious then?" lisped Nastasya Karpovna.
"It is strange. If an idea gains control of you, you will find it expressed everywhere, you will actually smell it in the wind. Fixative and the aroma of spring, isn't that it? Art and well, what is the other? Do not say 'Nature, Lisaveta, 'Nature' does not exhaust it.
"I am ready to obey you in everything, Lisaveta Mihalovna; but are we really to part like this? will you not say one word to me?" "Fedor Ivanitch, you are walking near me now.... But already you are so far from me. And not only you, but " "Speak out, I entreat you!" cried Lavretsky, "what do you mean?" "You will hear perhaps... but whatever it may be, forget... no, do not forget; remember me."
"Our convictions on that subject are too different, Lisaveta Mihalovna," Lavretsky observed, rather sharply; "we cannot understand one another." Lisa grew paler: her whole frame was trembling slightly; but she was not silenced. "You must forgive," she murmured softly, "if you wish to be forgiven." "Forgive!" broke in Lavretsky. "Ought you not first to know whom you are interceding for?
"You have a right to speak so, Lisaveta Ivanovna, and especially in view of the work of your poets, and that worship-deserving Russian literature which does really and truly represent the sacred literature you name. But I have not overlooked your objections, nay, they are a part of what is on my mind today ... Look at me.
All warmth, all goodness, all humor is born of it, and it almost seems to me as if it were that love itself, of which it is written that a man might speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and yet without it be no more than sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. What I have done is nothing, not much as good as nothing. I shall do better things, Lisaveta this is a promise.
And would you seriously stand up for this cold and vain charlatan? What is uttered, so runs his confession of faith, is settled. If the whole world is put into speech, it is settled, redeemed, done away with ... Very good. Yet I am no nihilist ..." "You are no " said Lisaveta. She was just holding a spoonful of tea near her mouth, and stayed so as if paralyzed.
"Why yes ... why yes ... come to your senses, Lisaveta. I am not that, I say, as far as living emotion is concerned.
"Well, Varvara Pavlovna, I confess," she observed, for the first time calling her by her name, "you have astonished me; you might give concerts. We have a musician here, an old German, a queer fellow, but a very clever musician. He gives Lisa lessons. He will be simply crazy over you." "Lisaveta Mihalovna is also musical?" asked Varvara Pavlovna, turning her head slightly towards her.
"I have already introduced myself to Lisaveta Mihalovna," interposed Lavretsky. "Monsier Panshin... Sergei Petrovitch Gedeonovsky... Please sit down. When I look at you, I can hardly believe my eyes. How are you?" "As you see, I'm flourishing. And you, too, cousin no ill-luck to you! have grown no thinner in eight years." "To think how long it is since we met!" observed Marya Dmitrievna dreamily.
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