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Updated: June 17, 2025
Beebe was wondering whether it would be Adelaida, or the march of The Ruins of Athens, when his composure was disturbed by the opening bars of Opus III. He was in suspense all through the introduction, for not until the pace quickens does one know what the performer intends.
I like to see that you know your manners; and you are by no means such a person as the general thought fit to describe you. Come along; you sit here, opposite to me," she continued, "I wish to be able to see your face. Alexandra, Adelaida, look after the prince! He doesn't seem so very ill, does he?
"When I was in Basle I saw a picture very much in that style I should like to tell you about it; I will some time or other; it struck me very forcibly." "Oh, you shall tell us about the Basle picture another time; now we must have all about the execution," said Adelaida. "Tell us about that face as; it appeared to your imagination-how should it be drawn? just the face alone, do you mean?"
"How beautiful that is!" cried Mrs. Epanchin, with sincere admiration. "Whose is it?" "Pushkin's, mama, of course! Don't disgrace us all by showing your ignorance," said Adelaida. "As soon as we reach home give it to me to read." "I don't think we have a copy of Pushkin in the house." "There are a couple of torn volumes somewhere; they have been lying about from time immemorial," added Alexandra.
It is not that I do not value your society; and you must never suppose that I have taken offence at anything. "You asked me about your faces, and what I could read in them; I will tell you with the greatest pleasure. You, Adelaida Ivanovna, have a very happy face; it is the most sympathetic of the three.
I wish to make sure of you first and then tell my old friend, Princess Bielokonski, about you. I wish you to know all the good people and to interest them. Now then, begin!" "Mamma, it's rather a strange order, that!" said Adelaida, who was fussing among her paints and paint-brushes at the easel.
He gathered loose women into his house, and carried on orgies of debauchery in his wife’s presence. To show what a pass things had come to, I may mention that Grigory, the gloomy, stupid, obstinate, argumentative servant, who had always hated his first mistress, Adelaïda Ivanovna, took the side of his new mistress.
When Adelaïda Ivanovna had run away, Grigory took Dmitri, then a child of three years old, combed his hair and washed him in a tub with his own hands, and looked after him for almost a year. Afterwards he had looked after Ivan and Alyosha, for which the general’s widow had rewarded him with a slap in the face; but I have already related all that.
To ask a man or woman who spends half a lifetime in sucking magazines and new poems to read a book of Homer would be like asking a butcher's boy to whistle "Adelaida." The noises and sights and talk, the whirl and volatility of life around us, are too strong for us.
At last Adelaida remarked that it was no use racing along at such a pace, and that she could not keep up with her mother. "Look here," said Lizabetha Prokofievna, turning round suddenly; "we are passing his house. Whatever Aglaya may think, and in spite of anything that may happen, he is not a stranger to us; besides which, he is ill and in misfortune. I, for one, shall call in and see him.
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