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Unlike that in the study, the light in here was not cold, but warm and waxy, so that again Kseniya Ippolytovna's face seemed strangely green to Polunin, her hair a yellow-red; her large, dark, deep-sunken eyes bore a stubborn look. "God has endowed you with wonderful beauty, Kseniya, Ippolytovna," Polunin said gravely. She gave him a keen glance; then smiled. "God has made me wonderfully tempting!
But that is expiation.... You are the only one who has loved me devotedly. Thank you, but I have no faith now." The dawn was grey, lingering, cold; the East grew red. Kseniya Ippolytovna's ancestral home had reared its columns for fully a century.
"I love her, and she has given me a daughter...." "Yes, that is true. And we ... we love, but are childless... We rise in the morning feeling dull and depressed from our revels of overnight, while you were wisely sleeping." Kseniya Ippolytovna's voice rose higher. "'We are the heisha-girls of lantern-light, you remember Annensky?
But the rays died away immediately, leaving a blue crepuscular gloom, in which Kseniya Ippolytovna's figure grew dim, forlorn, and decrepit. Alena curtseyed: Kseniya Ippolytovna hesitated a moment, wondering if she should give her hand; then she went up to Alena and kissed her. "Good evening", she cried gaily, "you know I am an old friend of your husband's."
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