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Updated: May 3, 2025
"Vera Lukianovna," said Hippolyte, "toss it, will you? Heads, I read, tails, I don't." Vera Lebedeff tossed the coin into the air and let it fall on the table. It was "heads." "Then I read it," said Hippolyte, in the tone of one bowing to the fiat of destiny. He could not have grown paler if a verdict of death had suddenly been presented to him. "But after all, what is it?
"That is Lebedeff's daughter Vera Lukianovna." "Indeed? She looks very sweet. I should like to make her acquaintance." The words were hardly out of her mouth, when Lebedeff dragged Vera forward, in order to present her. "Orphans, poor orphans!" he began in a pathetic voice. "The child she carries is an orphan, too. She is Vera's sister, my daughter Luboff.
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