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Updated: October 21, 2026
The clock struck eleven, then half-past, someone passed along the corridor, Aganka cleared up in the dining-room, Mintz walked to and fro in the drawing-room, then all became quiet. Lydia Constantinovna went to the window and gazed out for a long time. Then, quietly, she left her bedroom and crept down to Ivanov's study.
"And for me Moscow as ever wine, theatres, cafes, Mintz, an eternal hurly-burly ... I am sick of it!" "I cannot help you, Lida. I too am sick of all that, but now I am at peace. We must all work out our own salvation." Ivanov spoke very quietly and simply. Lydia Constantinovna sat bowed and motionless, as if fearing to move, clasping her knees with both hands.