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Updated: June 6, 2025
He recalled with disgust her beautiful shoulders and arms; and her coarse, brutal father, with his dark past, his cruelties, and her mother with her doubtful reputation. All this was disgusting and at the same time shameful. "No, no; I must free myself from all these false relations with the Korchagins, with Maria Vasilievna, with the inheritance and all the rest," he thought.
As he thought of the previous evening, spent at the Korchagins, a wealthy and influential family, whose daughter, rumor had it, he was to marry, he sighed, and throwing away the butt of his cigarette, he was on the point of taking another from the silver cigarette holder, but changed his mind.
The fat lady was the Princess's sister, to whose estate the Korchagins were now moving. The guard, with his gold cord and shiny top-boots, opened the carriage door and stood holding it as a sign of deference, while Philip and a porter with a white apron carefully carried out the long-faced Princess in her folding chair. The sisters greeted each other, and French sentences began flying about.
How is it one never sees you?" he greeted Nekhludoff. "Allez presenter vos devoirs a Madame. And the Korchagins are here et Nadine Bukshevden. Toutes les jolies femmes de la ville," said the important guest, slightly raising his uniformed shoulders as he presented them to his own richly liveried servant to have his military overcoat put on. "Au revoir, mon cher."
"You had hardly gone away from Prince Korchagin's yesterday," he said, turning half round, "when I drove up, and the Swiss at the door says, 'just gone." The isvostchik knew that Nekhludoff visited at the Korchagins, and called there on the chance of being engaged by him.
"Here is le vrai grand monde," thought Nekhludoff, remembering the words of Prince Korchagin and all that idle, luxurious world to which the Korchagins belonged, with their petty, mean interests. And he felt the joy of a traveller on discovering a new, unknown, and beautiful world. The gang of prisoners to which Maslova belonged had walked about three thousand three hundred miles.
The Korchagins were moving from their estate to the Prince's sister, whose estate was situated on the Nijhni road. The procession passed into the ladies' room. The old Prince, however, seating himself at the table, immediately called over a waiter and began to order something.
"Even the drivers know of my relations to the Korchagins," thought Nekhludoff, and the unsolved question which continually occupied his mind of late whether or not he ought to marry Princess Korchagin again occurred to him, and, like most questions that he was called upon to decide at that time, it remained unsolved. He had many reasons for, and as many against, marriage.
All this disgusted him, and also made him feel ashamed. "Shameful and horrid; horrid and shameful!" "No, no," he thought; "freedom from all these false relations with the Korchagins and Mary Vasilievna and the inheritance and from all the rest must be got. Oh, to breathe freely, to go abroad, to Rome and work at my picture!" He remembered the doubts he had about his talent for art.
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