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And do not ask me, I beg, if he ever was afraid of being in the dark again. Van Artevelde. These are but words. Elena. My lord, they're full of meaning! Van Artevelde. Grace had been said, and Mamma was busy carving for the large party of youngsters who sat around the comfortable dinner-table, when a little voice from among them called out, "Mamma, do you think a giant could see a carraway seed?"
'Yes, replied Insarov in a surly, thick voice. 'What? Insarov turned away. 'Elena Nikolaevnas don't talk like that, please. I'm not over happy as it is. Believe me, my decision has cost me great effort. If you knew 'I don't want to know, Elena interposed with dismay, 'why you are going.... It seems it's necessary. It seems we must part. You would not wound your friends without good reason.
"Oh, I am sorry, I did not mean please, Sheriff Paul, she may have the dress, poor thing! But for her, I should have had no man to marry on my wedding day next week." Sheriff Paul turned quickly. Elena, frightened, clapped two little hands over her mouth. Rosa shrugged indifferently, and tipping back her small, black head, listened to the music in the ballroom.
"Our poet and doctor of chemistry has fine friends, I must say!" Elisaveta and Elena were walking again on a path close to the road that connected the Prosianiya Meadows and the Rameyev estate. The sisters were glad that it was so still and deserted around them and that the turmoil of life seemed so remote from them.
There were always the delight of unexpected moments unseen, whispered words in the crowd, the sense of complete understanding, broken now and again by poignant attacks of unreasoning jealousy, not only on her part but his; quite worth the reconciliation at the lattice, while Elena Castro, gentle duena, pitched her voice high and amused her husband so well he sought no opportunity for response.
Elena produced the pencil and paper she had managed to purloin from her father's table, and kneeling beside her faithful vaquero, wrote a note on his back. It took her a long time to coin that simple epistle, for she never had written a love-letter before. But Pedro knelt like a rock, although his old knees ached.
That we had none does not prevent our feeling no very great surprise when we learn that the bearer of the poetic and more than appropriate name is called in sober truth Elena Barton.
He led her to the sofa, and made her sit down. She looked into his face, then her eyes ran over him from head to foot, then stared at the floor. 'Will he die? she asked so coldly and quietly that Bersenyev was frightened. 'For God's sake, Elena Nikolaevna, he began, 'what are you saying? He is ill certainly and rather seriously but we will save him; I promise you that.
Elena, with all her virtues, completely lacks the subtle charm of Lisa; for an aggressive, independent, determined woman will perhaps lose something of the charm that goes with mystery. There is no mystery about Elena, at all events; and she sees through her various adorers with eyes unblinded by sentiment.
All this she told him sitting beside him, leaning on his shoulder.... He listened to her, listened, turning pale and red. Sometimes he tried to stop her; suddenly he drew himself up. 'Elena, he said to her in a strange, hard voice 'leave me, go away. 'What? she replied in bewilderment 'You feel ill? she added quickly. 'No... I'm all right... but, please, leave me now.
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