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Updated: May 28, 2025
Count Kallash determined to demand for his sister a sum equal to that of the securities in her name which Natasha had stolen, calculating that this would be enough to maintain his sister in peace and comfort to the end of her days.
The result of their deliberations was a little note addressed to Count Kallash: "DEAR COUNT," it ran, "I was guilty of an act of folly toward you to-day. I am ashamed of it, and wish to make amends as soon as possible. We have always been good friends, so let us forget our little difference, the more so that an alliance is much more advantageous to us both than a quarrel.
"Madame la baronne von Doring!" he announced obsequiously. Brother and sister exchanged a rapid glance. "Now is our opportunity to make sure," said Kallash, with a smile. "If it is she, I shall recognize her by her voice," whispered Princess Anna. "Shall I remain here or go?" "Remain in the meantime; it will be a curious experience. Faites entrer!" he added to the footman.
Kallash with extreme politeness assisted her to a seat. "You didn't expect to meet me, Natasha?" said the old woman gently and almost caressingly, approaching her. "I do not know you. Who are you?" the baroness managed to whisper, by a supreme effort. "No wonder; I am so changed," replied Princess Anna. "But you are just the same. There is hardly any change at all."
A hum of talk spread among the guests: "Count Kallash " "Who is he ?" "It is a Hungarian name I think I heard of him somewhere." "Is this his first appearance?" "Who is this Kallash? Oh, yes, one of the old Hungarian families " "How interesting "
"And this means that I am in your power?" she said slowly, raising her piercing glance to his face. "Yes; it means that you are in my power," quietly and confidently answered Count Kallash. "But you forget that you and I are in the same boat." "You mean that I am a sharper, like you and Bodlevski? Well, you are right. "She, thanks to many things, has tasted misery, but she is honest.
Their recognition was mutual, and, after a more or less faithful recital of the events of the intervening years, they had entered into an offensive and defensive alliance. When Baroness von Doring was comfortably settled in her new quarters, Sergei Antonovitch brought a visitor to Bodlevski: none other than the Hungarian nobleman, Count Nicholas Kallash.
I have something for you!" "Something for me?" answered the old woman, looking up with stupid inquiry and already forgetting the existence of the impudent youth. "Yes, I'll come! What have you got for me?" Count Kallash led her by the arm out of the crowd, which began to disperse, abashed by his appearance and air of determination.
"Oh, heaven, it is she!" she cried, her eyes fixed on a page of the photograph album she had been dusting. "Brother, come here; for heaven's sake, who is this?" "Baroness von Doring," curtly answered Kallash, glancing quickly at the photograph. "What do you find interesting in her?" "It is either she or her double! Do you know who she looks like?" "Lord only knows! Herself, perhaps!"
Natasha began to recover her composure. "I don't understand you," she said coldly, contracting her brows. "But I understand you perfectly." "Allow me, princess," Kallash interrupted her, "permit me to have an explanation with the baroness; she and I know each other well. And if you will pardon me, I shall ask you in the meantime to withdraw."
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