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Updated: May 14, 2025
For Ivan's persistent faith had come to naught. Michael Gregoriev still denied his son. The following week of holiday was long enough, and Ivan passed his days in complete, brooding idleness.
He found no difficulty in entering; for there is no moment of the day or night when some wretched soul may not find a refuge there. At the same time, the "Prince" Gregoriev, together with a piece of gold, did serve to cut many yards from the red tape that impedes all progress in Russia.
Did he do her an injustice when he said to himself, bitterly, that Prince Gregoriev was worth an attempt which would not have been wasted on Ivan the composer? It was noon on the fourteenth day of the month when Ivan re-entered the lonely house at Klin, whence he was practically not to emerge for five long years.
Nevertheless, she used little art in her tale, and she drew therefrom neither moral nor homily. Of what use either of these? What remonstrance was there that could hold a true Gregoriev from the pursuits of his maturity? At the same time, if Ivan was what she believed him to be, he could read the moral as he ran.
If the case hadn't been aggravated by privation hunger, exposure, want, we might possibly have saved him, at least for the time. But I assure your Excellency that everything has been done " "You think it absolutely impossible to save him now if no expense is spared? I give you carte-blanche " "The man is dying, Prince Gregoriev. Only a miracle could help him now."
Thus it came about that Monsieur Gregoriev was installed in a home of his own, in which to maintain his longed-for gods.
The difficult hour was nearly over before sounds of the affair below first began to be audible to them. But at the first, muffled scream of laughter, Madame Gregoriev started, violently, all the color flying from her face, and a ghastly pallor taking its place.
"Good God! Anton! Surely, surely I'm too useful to you! Surely you understood my little joke, did you not? Bah! This whiffet of a Gregoriev! Why, if his stuff contains anything of any value whatever, he has stolen it all from what he has seen of your unpublished works!
If Brodsky took the remonstrance in bad part and who doubted that he would? what would be the fate of Gregoriev? Poor fellow! He had undertaken a quixotic task; and more than one of his fellow-officers regretted that they had not had the generosity to warn him of what he certainly should himself have realized the strong possibility of disgrace.
The envelope of this missive, unlike the others, bore only his name, not the address. Within, it was undated, unsigned, and began abruptly: "Monsieur Ivan Mikhailovitch Gregoriev, of whom, politically, the government as yet knows no wrong, is nevertheless respectfully warned against further association with the students of the brotherhood in the Akheskaia.
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