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Aratov sat with downcast head. 'Can you give me the address of that house in Kazan? he said at last. 'Yes; but what do you want it for? Do you want to write a letter there? 'Perhaps. 'Well, you know best. But the old lady won't answer, for she can't read and write. The sister, though, perhaps ... Oh, the sister's a clever creature! But I must say again, I wonder at you, my dear boy!
Aratov did not let his friend answer his aunt's question, but hurriedly snatching the ticket held out to him, told Platonida Ivanovna to give Kupfer five roubles at once. She blinked in amazement.... However, she handed Kupfer the money in silence. Her darling Yasha had ejaculated his commands in a very imperative manner. 'I tell you, a wonder of wonders! cried Kupfer, hurrying to the door.
Anna listened to him in silence, her hands folded on her lap; a mournful smile never left her face ... bitter grief, still fresh in its poignancy, was expressed in that smile. 'You knew my sister? she asked Aratov. 'No, I did not actually know her, he answered. 'I met her and heard her once ... but one need only hear and see your sister once to ...
She could only rejoice that he was nice and good-humoured to-day; towards evening Aratov was so far calm that he played several games of cards with his aunt. So passed the day ... but the night!
Though he had not expected to find him, he found him. Kupfer had, as a fact, been away from Moscow for some time, but he had now been back a week, and was indeed on the point of setting off to see Aratov. He met him with his usual heartiness, and was beginning to make some sort of explanation ... but Aratov at once cut him short with the impatient question, 'Have you heard it? Is it true?
'Will you be long in Kazan? 'I shall be back in a week, answered Aratov, standing with his back half-turned to his aunt, who was still sitting on the floor. Platonida Ivanovna tried to protest more, but Aratov answered her in an utterly unexpected and unheard-of way: 'I'm not a child, he shouted, and he turned pale all over, his lips trembled, and his eyes glittered wrathfully.
Slowly, without bending a single limb, she fell backwards, and sank down upon the tombstone.... And then Aratov lay down beside her, stretched out straight like a figure on a monument, his hands folded like a dead man's. But now the woman suddenly rose, and went away. Aratov tried to get up too ... but he could neither stir nor unclasp his hands, and could only gaze after her in despair.
Aratov once more stared intently at his aunt, and laughed aloud.... The figure of the good old lady in her nightcap and dressing-jacket, with her long face and scared expression, was certainly very comic. All the mystery surrounding him, oppressing him everything weird was sent flying instantaneously. 'No, Platosha dear, there's no need, he said. 'Please forgive me for unwittingly troubling you.
The good old lady came twice to his locked door, put her ear to the keyhole, and only sighed and murmured her prayer. 'It has begun! she thought.... 'And he only five-and-twenty! Ah, it's early, it's early! All the following day Aratov was in very low spirits.
Aratov rarely went up to her, and if he wanted anything, used always to call, in his delicate voice, from his study: 'Aunt Platosha! However, she made him sit down, and sat all alert, in expectation of his first words, watching him through her spectacles with one eye, over them with the other. She did not inquire after his health nor offer him tea, as she saw he had not come for that.
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