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Updated: May 22, 2025
If only you knew, Insarov, what a marvellous girl there is there! And what would be better still, come and stay with me, do. We could work and read together.... I am busy, as you know, with history and philosophy. All that would interest you. I have a lot of books. Insarov got up and walked about the room. 'Let me know, he said, 'how much do you pay for your cottage?
Anna Vassilyevna kissed him on the cheek, and called him a darling; Nikolai Artemyevitch smiled contemptuously and said: quelle bourde! In the coach were the ladies, a maid, and Bersenyev; Insarov was seated on the box; and in the open carriage were Uvar Ivanovitch and Shubin.
After dinner we will go out again somewhere. Two hours passed. Insarov still lay on the sofa, but he could not sleep, though he did not open his eyes. Elena did not leave his side; she had dropped her work upon her knee, and did not stir. 'Why don't you go to sleep? she asked at last. 'Wait a little. He took her hand, and placed it under his head. 'There that is nice.
'Why wouldn't you, continued the giant in vile Russian, 'sing again when our party shouted bis, and bravo? 'Yes, why? came from the ranks of his comrades. Insarov was about to step forward, but Shubin stopped him, and himself screened Anna Vassilyevna. 'Allow me, he began, 'honoured stranger, to express to you the heartfelt amazement, into which you have thrown all of us by your conduct.
'But tell me, has he not taken vengeance on that Turkish aga? Bersenyev smiled 'Revenge is only to be found in novels, Elena Nikolaevna; and, besides, in twelve years that aga may well be dead. 'Mr. Insarov has never said anything, though, to you about it? 'No, never. 'Why did he go to Sophia? 'His father used to live there. Elena grew thoughtful. 'To liberate one's country! she said.
Insarov looked at her intently, slightly knitting his brows, and stroking his chin with his fingers. 'Elena Nikolaevna, he began at last, and his voice was much lower than usual, which almost frightened Elena, 'I understand what man you are referring to. No, I did not meet him, and thank God I did not! I did not try to find him.
'There are so many of them, and the writing is so fine, and I have to go directly... let them be. They're not from a rival, eh?... and they're not in Russian, she added, turning over the thin sheets. Insarov came close to her and fondly touched her waist. She turned suddenly to him, smiled brightly at him and leant against his shoulder.
And she did not understand how to move on the stage; but there was much truth and artless simplicity in her acting, and she sang with that passion of expression and rhythm which is only vouchsafed to Italians. Elena and Insarov were sitting alone together in a dark box close to the stage; the mirthful mood which had come upon them in the academy delle Belle Arti had not yet passed off.
Shubin suggested that they should sing some Russian song in chorus, and struck up: 'Down the river Volga'... Bersenyev, Zoya, and even Anna Vassilyevna, joined in Insarov could not sing but they did not keep together; at the third verse the singers were all wrong. Only Bersenyev tried to go on in the bass, 'Nothing on the waves is seen, but he, too, was soon in difficulties.
He ought not to know himself why he butts at things, but just to butt at them. But, perhaps, in our days heroes of a different stamp are needed. 'Why are you so taken up with Insarov? asked Bersenyev. 'Can you have run here only to describe his character to me? 'I came here, began Shubin, 'because I was very miserable at home. 'Oh, that's it! Don't you want to have a cry again?
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