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Updated: June 11, 2025
The gesture of her hand, the insulting laugh, and the last exclamation, at once carried Aratov back to his first frame of mind, and stifled the feeling that had sprung up in his heart when she turned to him with tears in her eyes. He was angry again, and almost shouted after the retreating girl: 'You may make a good actress, but why did you think fit to play off this farce on me?
Platosha ceased speaking, and left the room.... She had hardly ever uttered such a long and animated speech in her life.... While Aratov thought, 'Auntie's right, I dare say.... I'm not used to it; that's all ... it actually was the first time his attention had ever happened to be drawn to a person of the female sex ... at least he had never noticed it before 'I mustn't give way to it.
On being left alone with Anna Semyonovna, Aratov repeated his speech to her; but realising at the first glance that he had to do with a really cultivated girl, not a typical tradesman's daughter, he went a little more into particulars and made use of different expressions; but towards the end he grew agitated, flushed and felt that his heart was throbbing.
'but evil is coming! 'This way, pray, this way, the steward repeated again, 'pray come into the garden: look what fine apples you have! The apples certainly were fine, red, and round; but as soon as Aratov looked at them, they withered and fell ... 'Evil is coming, he thought. 'And here is the lake, lisped the steward, 'isn't it blue and smooth?
The confidence Aratov had inspired in her grew and strengthened; she was no longer stiff; twice she even dropped a few silent tears before him. He seemed to her to be worthy to hear an unreserved account of all she knew and felt ... in her own secluded life nothing of this sort had ever happened before!... As for him ... he drank in every word she uttered.
During the whole time of the singing, Aratov had been watching Clara's face. It seemed to him that her eyes, through the drooping eyelashes, were again turned upon him; but he was especially struck by the immobility of the face, the forehead, the eyebrows; and only at her outburst of passion he caught through the hardly-parted lips the warm gleam of a close row of white teeth.
But in character he was like his father; and the face, so unlike the father's face, wore the father's expression; and he had the triangular-shaped hands and hollow chest of the old Aratov, who ought, however, hardly to be called old, since he never reached his fiftieth year.
With just that expression on her face she had come on to the platform on the day of the literary matinee, before she caught sight of Aratov. And, just as then, she suddenly flushed, her face brightened, her eyes kindled, and a joyful, triumphant smile parted her lips.... 'I have come! cried Aratov. 'You have conquered.... Take me! I am yours, and you are mine!
'Lord, have mercy on us! what is it? she thought; 'not a drop of blood in his face, refuses broth, lies there and smiles, and keeps declaring he's perfectly well! He refused breakfast too. 'What is the matter with you, Yasha? she questioned him; 'do you mean to lie in bed all day? 'And what if I did? Aratov answered gently. This very gentleness again Platonida Ivanovna did not like at all.
'She has even played somewhere in the provinces, Kupfer continued, 'and altogether she's created for the theatre. There! you'll see for yourself! 'What's her name? asked Aratov. 'Clara... 'Clara? Aratov interrupted a second time. 'Impossible! 'Why impossible? Clara ... Clara Militch; it's not her real name ... but that's what she's called.
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