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Yourii saw Sina Karsavina sitting on the window-sill, and instantly everything seemed to him bright and joyous, as if the meeting were not in a stuffy room full of smoke, but at a festival amid fair green meadows in spring. Sina, slightly confused, smiled at him pleasantly.
"Very well; and Ludmilla Nicolaievna will invite Karsavina and Olga Ivanovna." "Who are they?" asked Yourii once more. Lialia laughed. "You will see!" she said, kissing the tips of her fingers and looking very mysterious. "Aha!" said Yourii, smiling. "Well, we shall see what we shall see!" After some hesitation, Novikoff with an air of indifference, remarked: "We might ask the Sanines too."
"I am trying to speak in such a way as to be understood by all," replied Schafroff gently. "Very well! Speak as best you can!" said Dubova with a gesture expressing her resignation. Sina Karsavina laughed at Schafroff, too, in her pretty way, tossing back her head and showing her white, shapely throat. Hers was a rich, musical laugh.
He, like a man of the world, took his cue immediately from her, and the conversation whether it ran on the return of Karsavina to the Russian Ballet, or the success of "Abraham Lincoln"; or the prospects of the Peace, or merely the weddings and buryings of certain common acquaintances which appeared in the morning's Times was so free and merry, that Mrs.
Yourii gave another frightened glance at his sister, and met her sad eyes. In confusion he turned to Schafroff, and said hastily: "Have you read Charles Bradlaugh?" "Yes, we read some of his works with Dubova, and Sina Karsavina. Most interesting." "Yes. Oh! have they come back?" "Yes." "Since when?" asked Yourii, hiding his emotion. "Since the day before yesterday."
God!" screamed Sina Karsavina, holding her head with both hands, and shutting her eyes tightly. Horrified and disgusted at the sight of Sarudine crouching there on all fours, Yourii, followed by Schafroff, rushed at Sanine.
Take some of the folk here, for instance Sina Karsavina, or Semenoff, or Lida even, who might have avoided becoming commonplace. But oh! they bore me now. I'm tired of them. I've put up with it all as long as I could; I can't stand it any longer." Ivanoff looked at him for a good while. "Come, come!" he said. "You'll surely say good-bye to your people?" "Not I! It's just they who bore me most."
"Where is the lecture to be given?" he asked with the same slightly contemptuous smile as he handed back the pamphlet. "At the school," replied Schafroff, mentioning the one at which Sina Karsavina and Dubova were teachers. Yourii remembered that Lialia had once told him about these lectures, but he had paid no attention. "May I come with you?" he asked.
Artists Somoff and Benois and Dobujinsky; novelists like Sologub and Merejkowsky; dancers like Karsavina actors from all over Petrograd they were there, I expect, to add criticism and argument to the adulation of friends and of the carelessly observant rich Jews and merchants who had come simply to display their jewellery.
He walked once more along the boulevard. Girlish voices called to him through the dusk. Sina Karsavina and the school-mistress Dubova were sitting on a bench. It was now getting dark, and their figures were hardly discernible. They wore dark dresses, were without hats, and carried books in their hands. Yourii hastened to join them. "Where have you been?" he asked. "At the library," replied Sina.
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