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Updated: June 22, 2025
Her face was pale; even her slightly-parted lips had lost their color. Lavretsky's heart throbbed with pity and with love. "You have written to me that all is over," he whispered. "Yes, all is over before it had begun." "All that must be forgotten," said Liza. "I am glad you have come. I was going to write to you; but it is better as it is. Only we must make the most of these few minutes.
Panshin assumed a melancholy air, and expressed himself in brief, pregnant, and gloomy phrases, played the part, in fact, of the unappreciated genius, but in spite of the entreaties of Madame Byelenitsin, who was very coquettish with him, he would not consent to sing his son; he felt Lavretsky's presence a constraint.
Then he fell to thinking of Lisa, that she could hardly love Panshin, that if he had met her under different circumstances God knows what might have come of it; that he undertook Lemm though Lisa had no words of "her own:" but that, he thought, was not true; she had words of her own. "Don't speak light of that," came back to Lavretsky's mind.
Its light spread in a blue stream over the sky, and fell in a streak of vaporous gold on the thin clouds which went past close at hand. The freshness of the air called a slight moisture into Lavretsky's eyes, passed caressingly over all his limbs, and flowed with free current into his chest. He was conscious of enjoying, and felt glad of that enjoyment.
The same fields, the same steppe scenery; the polished shoes of the trace-horses flashed alternately through the driving dust; the coachman's shirt, yellow with red gussets, was puffed out by the wind.... "A nice home-coming!" glanced through Lavretsky's brain; and he cried, "Get on!" wrapped himself in his cloak and pressed close into the cushion.
The day of the arrival of Lavretsky's wife at the town of O , a sorrowful day for him, and been also a day of misery for Lisa. She had not had time to go down-stairs and say good-morning to her mother, when the tramp of hoofs was heard under the window, and with a secret dismay she saw Panshin riding into the courtyard.
Everywhere near and afar and one could see in to the far distance, though the eye could not make out clearly much of what was seen all was at peace; youthful, blossoming life seemed expressed in this deep peace. Lavretsky's horse stepped out bravely, swaying evenly to right and left; its great black shadow moved along beside it.
"It's what I deserve!" she said to herself, repressing with difficulty and dismay some bitter impulses of hatred which frightened her in her soul. "Well, I must go down!" she thought directly she heard of Madame Lavretsky's arrival, and she went down.... She stood a long while at the drawing-room door before she could summon up courage to open it.
But the friends talked for more than hour longer. Their voices were no longer raised, however, and their talk was quiet, sad, friendly talk. Mihalevitch set off the next day, in spite of all Lavretsky's efforts to keep him. Fedor Ivanitch did not succeed in persuading him to remain; but he talked to him to his heart's content. Mihalevitch, it appeared, had not a penny to bless himself with.
After Lavretsky's departure, Panshine grew animated. He began to give advice to Gedeonovsky, and to make mock love to Madame Belenitsine, and at last he sang his romance. But when gazing at Liza, or talking to her, he maintained the same air as before, one of deep meaning, with a touch of sadness in it. All that night also, Lavretsky did not sleep.
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