Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 28, 2025
It is my affair, Ivan Andreievitch. I couldn't live with Vera and Nicholas any longer." Grogoff then interfered. "I think this is about enough...." he said. "I have given you your opportunity. Nina has been quite clear in what she has said. She does not wish to return. There is your answer."
The fortunes and adventures of the soul on its journey towards its own country, its hopes and fears, struggles and despairs, its rejections and joy and rewards its death and destruction all this in terms of human life and the silly blundering conditions of this splendid glorious earth.... Here was Vera Michailovna and her husband, Nina and Boris Grogoff, Bohun and Lawrence, myself and Semyonov a jumbled lot with all our pitiful self-important little histories, our crimes and virtues so insignificant and so quickly over, and behind them the fine stuff of the human and divine soul, pushing on through all raillery and incongruity to its goal.
He addressed the world in general. "I tell you that we're going to stop this filthy war," he cried. "And if our government won't do it, we'll take things into our own hands...." "Well," said Semyonov, smiling, "that's a thing that no Russian has ever said before, for certain." Every one laughed, and Grogoff flushed. "Oh, it's easy to sneer!" he said.
We shouted. Some one cried "Cheers for our host and hostess!" We gave them, and in no half measure. We shouted. Boris Grogoff cried, "More cheers!" It was then that I saw Markovitch's face that had been puckered with pleasure like the face of a delighted child suddenly stiffen, his hand moved forward, then dropped.
She said that he simply didn't know what Grogoff would do if he returned and found him, and although he'd gone to a meeting he might return at any moment. Then, as though to urge upon him Grogoff's ferocity, in little hoarse whispers she let him see some of the things that during these weeks she'd endured.
No young man likes to be discovered hidden behind a coat-rack, however honest his original intentions! His heart beat to suffocation as he peeped between the coats.... Grogoff was already wearing his own overcoat. It was, thank God, too warm an evening for a Shuba.
She doesn't know.... Boris Oh! it's impossible. Don't leave without bringing her back with you." Even old Uncle Ivan seemed distressed. "Dear, dear..." he kept repeating, "dear, dear.... Poor little Nina. Poor little Nina " "Where does Grogoff live?" I asked. "16 Gagarinskaya.... Flat 3. Quick. You must bring her back with you. Promise me." "I will do my best," I said.
Then, suddenly clearing her voice, speaking very firmly, looking me full in the face, she said: "Tell Vera... that I saw... what happened that Thursday afternoon the Thursday of the Revolution week. Tell her that when you're alone with her. Tell her that then she'll understand." She turned and almost ran out of the room. "Well, you see," said Grogoff smiling lazily from the sofa.
At any rate she thought me one.... And then to go off to a fellow like Grogoff! He thought of it the more seriously when he saw the agony Vera was in. She did not ask him to help her, and so he did nothing; but he watched her efforts, the letters that she wrote, the eagerness with which she ravished the post, her fruitless visits to Grogoff's flat, her dejected misery over her failure.
I caught myself in the next instant saying to myself, "Well, she's got Lawrence to look after her now" so readily does the spirit that is beyond one's grasp act above and outside one's poor human will. I saw then that the trouble was once again, as it had often been before, Grogoff. He was drinking heavily the rather poor claret which Markovitch had managed to secure from somewhere.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking