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We, and many like us, simply rot and die. The only wonder is that you don't drink. That is how our artists, half men, usually end their careers." Smiling he thrust a glass towards his host, but emptied it himself. Raisky concluded that he was cold, malicious and heartless. But the last remark had disturbed him. Was he really only half a man?
If I had been a peaceful citizen of the town I should have been thrust into gaol without delay; but as I am an outlaw, the Governor inquired into the matter and advised Niel Andreevich to say nothing. So that no enquiry should be instituted from St. Petersburg; they fear that like fire." "When I spoke of idleness," said Raisky, "I did not mean to read a moral.
But artists begin in poverty, with a crust of bread. You will find they are for the most part freed serfs, small tradespeople or foreigners, or Jews. Poverty drives them to art. But you a Raisky! You have land of your own, and bread to eat.
Raisky felt a relief in the firm determination he now made to conquer his passion, and decided not to return from this journey, but to have his effects sent after him. While he was away he wrote in this sense to Vera, telling her that his life in Malinovka had been like an evil dream full of suffering, and that if he ever saw the place again it would be at some distant date.
This mood would last a whole evening, sometimes a whole day, before she again relapsed into shyness and reserve, so that no one could read her mind and heart. That was all that Raisky could observe for the time, and it was all the others saw either. The less ground he had to go on however, the more active his imagination was in seeking to divine her secret.
But if a whiff of originality passed over the master himself, if he taught as if it were a game, and had recourse neither to his book nor to the blackboard, then the solution flashed on Raisky, and he found the answer quicker than any of the others. He consumed passionately history, novels and tales; wherever he could he begged for books.
"What are these things for, Grandmother?" asked Raisky. "He doesn't eat anything." "But the other one, if he returns?" "What other one?" "Who but Markushka? He will want something to eat. You found him with our invalid." "I will go to Mark, Granny, and tell him what you say." "For goodness' sake don't do that, Borushka. Mark will laugh at me."
It's no use to wear yourself out with sighs, to be sleepless, to watch for the raising of the lilac curtain by a white hand, to wait a week for a kindly glance." Raisky rose, furious. "Ah, I have hit the bull's eye." Raisky put compulsion on himself to restrain his rage, for every involuntary expression or gesture of anger would have meant nothing less than acquiescence.
In my waking hours and in my dreams I imagine that there lies between us no disturbance, no doubt. But I don't understand you, and therefore cannot trust you." "You hide under your Aunt's skirts like a chicken under a hen, and you have absorbed her ideas and her system of morals. You, like Raisky, inshroud passion in fantastic draperies. Let us put aside all the other questions untouched.
I need a housekeeper, a modest woman, who is no coquette, and has no taste for finery, who never glances at another man, and you are an example." Paulina Karpovna pretended not to hear, but fanned herself and attempted to draw Raisky into a conversation. "In our esteem," went on Niel Andreevich, pitilessly, "you are a model for our mothers and daughters.
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