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"You cannot imagine, Boris, how vexed I was about it," he said as he took down some books with torn backs from the shelves. Raisky pushed the books away. "What does it matter to me?" he said. "You are like my grandmother; she bothers me about accounts, you about books." "But Boris, I don't know what accounts she bothered you about, but these books are your most precious possession.
Then with the commanding dignity she knew how to assume, she put on her cap, wrapt herself in her shawl, and went right up to Niel Andreevich, while Raisky looked on in amazement, with a sense of his own smallness in her majestic presence. "Who are you?" she began. "A clerk in the chancellery, an upstart. And yet you dare to address a noblewoman with violence.
"You will not end your romance either, neither the paper one nor the real one." said Mark. Raisky was about to answer, but thought better of it, and was quickly gone. "Why do you think he won't finish the novel?" asked Leonti. "He is only half a man," replied Mark with a scornful, bitter laugh. Raisky walked in the direction of home.
For what future are you preparing yourself?" "I want to be an artist." "Wha-at?" "An artist." "The devil only knows what notions you have got into your head. Who would agree to that? Do you even know what an artist is?" Raisky made no answer.
After a brief minute she was awakened from her dream by the thud of something falling on the floor. She opened her eyes and saw on the floor a great sheaf of orange blossoms, which had plainly been thrown through the window. Pale as death, and without picking up the flowers, she hurried to the window. She saw Raisky, as he went away, and stood transfixed. He looked round, and their eyes met.
But Raisky stared at the teacher, as if seeking to impress on his memory the details of his appearance, his speech, how he took snuff; he looked at his eyebrows, his beard, then at his clothes, at the cornelian seal suspended across his waistcoat, and so on.
Marina sped past light-footed as a sylph, skilfully balancing dishes and plates in her hands, and vanished into the dark night. Savili's answer was a threatening gesture with his whip. Mark was indeed hungry, and as Raisky showed no hesitation either, the sturgeon soon disappeared, and when Marina came to clear away there was not much to take.
"God forbid! How could such a thing happen. Who ever imagined such nonsense?" "Granny," laughed Raisky. Happily "Granny" had not heard the words. Marfinka was embarrassed, and looked out of the window. "Here I have everything I want, the lovely flowers in the garden, the birds. Who would look after the birds? I will never go away from here, never!" "But Granny wants to go and take you with her."
Raisky made haste to tell her of his conversation with their aunt; when she sent for him early next morning, in her anxiety to have news of Tatiana Markovna, he pointed out of the window, and Vera saw how Tatiana Markovna was drifting, urged on by the heavy hand of misfortune.
Her face lighted up when she saw Raisky and she opened her arms, to press him to her breast. She had aged, but in so even, so healthy a fashion, that there were no unwholesome patches, no deep hanging pockets about the eyes and mouth, no sadness or gloom in her eyes. Life had not conquered her; she conquered life, and only slowly laid down her weapons in the combat.
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