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Updated: June 28, 2025
Her voice was not so clear as of old, and she leaned on a stick, but she made no complaint. She still wore no cap on her short hair. Health and kindliness shone from her eyes, and not only from her eyes, from her whole figure. "Borushka, my friend!" Three times she embraced him. Tears stood in her eyes.
He was a fine man, but with marked simplicity, not to put a fine point on it in his glance and his manners. Raisky wondered jealously whether he was Vera's hero. Why not? Women like these tall men with open faces and highly developed muscular strength. But Vera "And you, Borushka," cried Tatiana Markovna suddenly, clapping her hands. "Look at your clothes. Egorka and the rest of you!
"Is Anna Ivanovna well?" "Thank you. She sends her kindest regards, and has sent you some preserves, also some peaches out of the orangery, and mushrooms. They are in the char-a-banc." "It is very good of her. We have no peaches. I have put aside for her some of the tea that Borushka brought with him." "Many thanks." "How could you let your horses climb the hill in such weather?
We do, in fact, talk very little, but we resemble one another," said Tatiana Markovna. "Granny, you are an extraordinary woman!" cried Raisky, looking at her with as much enthusiasm as if he saw her for the first time. "Drive to the Governor's, Borushka, and tell him exactly what has happened so that the other party may not be first with his lying nonsense.
"Why didn't you call me. Who served you, and what did they bring you?" "Marina did everything." "A cold meal. Ah, Borushka, you shame me." "We had plenty to eat." "Plenty, without a single hot dish, without dessert. I will send up some preserves." "No, no ... if you want anything, I can wake Mark and ask him." "Good heavens! I am in my night-jacket," she whispered, and drew back to the door.
Sometimes a wild intoxication flared up in her, but it was a disconcerting merriment. One evening, when she suddenly left the room, Tatiana Markovna and Raisky exchanged a long questioning glance. "What do you think of Vera?" she began. "She seems to have recovered from her malady of the soul." "I think it is more serious than before." "What is the matter with you, Borushka?
I would have asked Ivan Ivanovich, but you know how he cares for me and what hopes he cherishes. To bring him into contact with a man who has destroyed those hopes is impossible." "Impossible," agreed Tatiana Markovna. "God knows what might happen between them. You have a near relation, who knows all and loves you like a sister, Borushka." "If that were how he loved me," thought Vera.
"Nikolai Andreevich loves me, but he is my fiance; so does his Mama, but so does my cousin, Boris Pavlovich, and what am I to him?" "The same as you are to everyone. No one can look at you and not be happy; you are modest, pure and good, obedient to your Grandmother. Spendthrift," she murmured in an aside, to hide her pleasure. "Such a costly gift! You shall hear of this, Borushka!" "Grandmother!
"Something is wrong with Vera," said Tatiana Markovna, shaking her grey head as she saw how grimly he avoided her questioning glance. "What can it be?" asked Raisky negligently, with an effort to assume indifference. "Something is wrong, Borushka. She looks so melancholy and is so silent, and often seems to have tears in her eyes.
"To-day, I believe it," agreed Raisky to the terror and agitation of the company. Most of the officials present escaped to the hall, and stood near the door listening. "How so," asked Niel Andreevich haughtily. "Because you have just insulted a lady." "You hear, Tatiana Markovna." "Boris Pavlovich, Borushka," she said, seeking to restrain him.
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