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Updated: May 10, 2025
'Be quiet, Andryusha! 'My soul's consumed apart from thee! the indefatigable singer continued. Tatyana Borissovna shook her head. 'Ah, these artists! these artists!.... A year has gone by since then. Byelovzorov is still living at his aunt's, and still talking of going back to Petersburg. He has grown as broad as he is long in the country.
"And we have been looking and looking for you. . . . But what is the matter with you?" she asked in wonder, glancing at his radiant, ecstatic face and eyes full of tears. "How strange you are, Andryusha!" "I am pleased, Tanya," said Kovrin, laying his hand on her shoulders. "I am more than pleased: I am happy. Tanya, darling Tanya, you are an extraordinary, nice creature.
Do you feel yourself consecrated to the holy service of Art? 'I want to be an artist, Piotr Mihalitch, Andryusha declared in a trembling voice. 'I am delighted, if so it be. It will, of course, continued Mr. Benevolensky,'be hard for you to part from your revered aunt; you must feel the liveliest gratitude to her. 'I adore my auntie, Andryusha interrupted, blinking.
You were such a thin, longlegged creature, with your hair hanging on your shoulders; you used to wear short frocks, and I used to tease you, calling you a heron. . . . What time does!" "Yes, five years!" sighed Tanya. "Much water has flowed since then. Tell me, Andryusha, honestly," she began eagerly, looking him in the face: "do you feel strange with us now? But why do I ask you?
'Under these circumstances, he wrote to her, 'I propose coming to you to regain my health in the country. And in the May of the same year Andryusha did, in fact, return to Maliya-Briki. Tatyana Borissovna did not recognise him for the first minute.
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