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Updated: May 22, 2025
She drank a great deal of brandy in slow sips, and as she pressed her beautiful lips to the glass she vilified everybody and everything Ivanov, the Revolution, Moscow, the Crimea, Marin-Brod, Mintz, and herself. Then she became silent, her eyes grew dull, she began to speak quietly and sadly, with a foolish helpless smile.
All through the years of the Revolution Lydia Constantinovna had lived in the Crimea, coming to Marin-Brod for a fortnight the previous summer, afterwards leaving for Moscow. Now she had returned for the Easter holidays, but not alone the artist Mintz accompanied her. Ivanov had never heard of him before.
Marin-Brod has never been a country house, it is a forest manor, a forestry-office and nothing more ... nothing more.... I always feel an interloper here. This is only my second day and I am already depressed." Her tone was sad, yet it held just a perceptible note of anger. "Reality and Fancy?
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