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Updated: June 19, 2025
Darvid stood at the round table sunk in thought, with pins of irony in his smile and his eyes, with a cloud of wrinkles between his brows.
"Is Pan Maryan at home?" asked Darvid of the Swiss at the street door. The Swiss learned from servants that the young master was sleeping yet. "What a miserable method of life! I must put a curb on this wild buck immediately. Well, lack of time, a chronic lack of time!" "Quickly! as quickly as possible!" called he to the driver, while entering the carriage.
He felt this himself, still he had not the power to refrain. In presence of them he found himself under the influence of one of his passions, and it carried him too far. The prince spoke of the sculptor, whose gifts he esteemed highly; the young man had gone directly from Darvid to him and told of all that he had heard, and what he had experienced.
She spoke in a low, wearied voice: "An idyl!" laughed Darvid. "An idyl, father; I used to laugh at all idyls without knowing that I had one in myself. It has saved me from many, and, perhaps, dreadful things. Yes, I have an idyl: I love mamma." Then her thin lips, famous in society for their precocious, bitter irony, quivered as do those of children when preparing to cry.
Oh, that the other might be torn apart quickly; then she could go far from the world into lone obscurity, an abyss occupied only by her endless penitence. In her head a plan had matured. She wished to speak with Darvid as soon as possible, and she doubted not that in the near future he would agree with her. Her daughters?
Mamma and I are greatly opposed to it; therefore, I have permitted myself to detain you for a moment, and say " The smile disappeared entirely from her lips when she finished; "and say to you that this ball will not take place." "What does this mean?" began Darvid; but suddenly he restrained himself. The Swiss stood at the door; at the top of the stairs was another servant.
Darvid, in a closely fitting fur coat, finished with an original and very costly collar, with a shining hat on his head, walked over the ground with even tread; he listened rather than spoke, there was a silent satisfaction in his smile, when suddenly an immense brightness reflected from a tree, directly in front, dazzled his eyesight.
Baron Blauendorf is going there also; only yesterday he bade good-by to us. We scatter through the world; but, till we meet again? For I should be in despair were I to lose an acquaintance so precious and dear to me as yours is." Ah, how indifferent it was to Darvid whether he should keep or lose acquaintance with Prince Zeno.
There may be idyls somewhere, but that which I saw I assure you, father, did not encourage did not encourage me to look at things from the idyllic angle." Darvid rose with an impulsive movement. "To the question, Irene, to the question! Say what the request is for which you have come. And from what does your mother suffer so greatly?
At the opposite side of that drawing-room, on a blue background, is the pale face of an old man, and from above a gray beard the sad and inquisitive eyes of the patriarch are settled on Darvid. What does all this mean? Darvid halted in the centre of one of the drawing-rooms, right there behind him the bundle of raw silk halted also, and stood on its shaggy paws.
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