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Updated: May 20, 2025
When widow Clemens brought in a lamp, with a milk-colored globe, which filled the room with a white, mild light, Kranitski looked at the head of the old woman in the white lamp-light, and, for the first time in a number of hours, he spoke: "Come, mother, come nearer!" said he. When she came he seized her rude fist in both his hands and shook it vigorously.
He ran toward his dressing-table, but in the middle of the room he stood as if fixed to the floor. His eye met a beautiful heliotype, standing on the bureau in the light of the lamp; from the middle of the room, in a motionless posture, Kranitski gazed at the face of the woman, which was enclosed in an ornamented frame. "Poor, dear soul!
He was to return soon; but, meanwhile, Kranitski could not sit in the broad chair before Tristan, who was giving obeisance on the wall of the chamber to Isolde, nor sit at the table where, besides gastronomic tidbits, he found conversation to which he was accustomed, nor in presence of the Triumph of Death sweeping through the air on bat wings, or experience the tone of beyond-the-worldness.
The guest smiled and whispered to the "Triumph of Death," at which he was looking, "Lili Kerth." Then he sank into the cathedra so that in spite of his lofty stature he almost disappeared in it. Soon the baron appeared at the door, and, accustomed to seeing Kranitski at various times, he nodded to him with a brief "Bon jour!" and turned to the organ.
The lamp burning on the bureau threw its white light on those two heads, which, discoursing sadly, continued their melancholy converse without words; it shone also on the varied collection of pipes at the wall, and cast passing gleams on the golden cigarette-case which Kranitski turned in his hand. Darvid was in splendid humor he had bought at auction a house and broad grounds very reasonably.
Besides the baron, who was playing, was present Kranitski, who had come an hour before and heard from the servant that the baron was sleeping yet. But that was not true, for a few minutes after Kranitski heard farther back in the building an outburst of female laughter, to which the nasal voice of the baron, who spoke rather long about something, gave answer.
"A golden fleece!" whispered Kranitski. He grew more and more gloomy, and felt in his right side a pain which was well-nigh unendurable. The tone in which the baron gave account of his journey in regions about his birthplace, roused almost instinctive disgust in Kranitski. He looked at Maryan. Was he the same also? After a while he asked: "Has the American project crystallized thoroughly?
What do I care for furniture!" cried Kranitski, "when those noble hearts remember me " "Hearts have no stomachs; there is no need of stuffing something into them the first minute." "What does mother know? Mother is an honest woman, but her level is earth to earth she only thinks of this cursed money!" "But is pate de foie gras holy? Arabian adventure!" Both voices were raised somewhat.
A trembling shook Kranitski from head to foot, as if from the effects of a blow; he straightened himself, he became manful, and crushing in his hand the bank check which he had received, hurled that paper bullet into Darvid's face so directly that it hit him at the top of his bronze colored whiskers and fell to his feet.
"What Nazarene?" asked Kranitski, with astonishment. "What Nazarene?" "But how should I know what Nazarene? It may be an image of the Lord Jesus of Nazareth. They only said that they would go to look at it, and come back here." "Come back," repeated Kranitski, "that is well. We shall have a talk it is so long since I have had a talk with anyone and I shall see Maryan, the dear, dear boy!"
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