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And when she looked searchingly into his face, it seemed to him that there was a gleam of green light in her eyes as in a cat's. "When shall I get the passport?" she asked softly. He suddenly had an impulse to say "Never"; but he restrained himself and said: "When you like." "I shall only go for a month." "You'll go to Riss for good.

Thank you very much; I am not such a fool as you think. I won't accept the divorce and I won't leave you I won't, I won't! To begin with, I don't want to lose my position in society," she continued quickly, as though afraid of being prevented from speaking. "Secondly, I am twenty-seven and Riss is only twenty-three; he'll be tired of me in a year and throw me over.

Going into his study and beginning to reflect, he recalled at once how he had been with his wife in Petersburg a year and a half ago, and had lunched with an old school-fellow, a civil engineer, and how that engineer had introduced to him and his wife a young man of two or three and twenty, called Mihail Ivanovitch, with rather a curious short surname Riss.

I'll get you a divorce, take the blame on myself, and Riss can marry you." "But I don't want a divorce!" Olga Dmitrievna retorted quickly, with an astonished face. "I am not asking you for a divorce! Get me a passport, that's all." "But why don't you want the divorce?" asked the doctor, beginning to feel irritated. "You are a strange woman. How strange you are!

That telegram is from Riss; he drinks to the health of his beloved and sends you a thousand kisses. But let us leave that," the doctor went on hurriedly. "I don't in the least want to reproach you or make a scene. We've had scenes and reproaches enough; it's time to make an end of them. . . . This is what I want to say to you: you are free, and can live as you like." There was a silence.

Olga Dmitrievna, crying and speaking in a voice of self-pity, acknowledged that she loved Riss, and used to drive out of town with him and see him in his rooms, and now she really did long to go abroad. "You see, I hide nothing from you," she added, with a sigh. "My whole soul lies open before you. And I beg you again, be generous, get me a passport." "I repeat, you are free."

So admonished, Annie read. Tibbie fidgeted about on her seat. It was impossible either should understand it. And the proper names were a great puzzle to them. "Tammy Riss!" said Tibbie; "I ken naething aboot him." "Na, neither do I," said Annie; and beginning the line again, she blundered over "blind Maeonides." "Ye're readin' 't wrang, bairn.