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Updated: July 15, 2025
"Who can be sure that he is building up wisdom?" interrupted Maryan. Then, taking a cigarette-case from his pocket, he asked: "Do you permit, father?" Then, handing the cigarette-case, with great politeness, to Darvid, he added: "But, perhaps, you will smoke also?" Darvid, with thick wrinkles between his brows, shook his head and sat down.
A multitude of these rich things had been acquired by the English, who had circled about through the country more than once in pursuit of them; but much remained yet, and the only need was to inquire, seek, examine, and it was possible to find real treasures, even, often most unexpectedly. He halted before Maryan.
Sitting on the sofa, with glitters of black jet in her light hair, was Malvina Darvid; nearby, in a low armchair, inclining toward her, was Maryan, elegant as usual, and before him, with elbows resting on her mother's knees, knelt Cara, a bright, blue strip lying across the black silk robe of her mother.
Giving a small cup to her son, she inquired: "You like black coffee so well that I ought to reserve another cup, ought I not?" Maryan made no answer; with a wrinkle on her forehead, and a smile on her lips, she continued quickly and hurriedly: "I share your taste for coffee, Maryan. Some time ago I drank much coffee, but I saw that it injured my nerves and deprived me of sleep.
Go back in memory to your childhood; recall the principles which your mother implanted in you, and you will find an answer to your question." Maryan laughed. "What you say, father, reminds me of one of my friends who writes books. A poor devil, but we receive him into our set, for he has talent that legitimizes.
He demanded that in one of the factories belonging to him, Maryan should begin a course of self-restraint, obedience, and labor. "Our two individualities," said Maryan, "came into collision, and sprang back in a state of complete inviolability not the least dint was made on Mm or on me. Our wills remained unbroken. He, of course, is a man with a mighty will.
Maryan answered, with his hand on the lock: "It is polished with agate." And he went out. But the baron, after crossing the threshold, began: "And as to the ruddy-brownish biscuit " The door closed; the voices ceased. Kranitski stood some time in the antechamber, then he turned toward the little drawing-room, and whispered: "'Polished with agate' 'Biscuit, and those are their last words!"
Even Maryan, looking at his younger sister, said: "The time always comes when children begin to speak instead of prattling." Miss Mary, with an anxious forehead under her puritan hair, said nothing. On the faces of all who spoke, anxiety was evident, and above the smiling lips weariness was present in every eye.
And then, with hesitating voice, he inquired: "Thou hast said: 'that which is happening and going on in the house. What is going on there?" To this the baron answered, with growing blushes: "How? Do you not know that Pani Darvid and Panna Irene set out in a few days for a retreat?" "To Krynichna," said Maryan, completing the information.
Darvid passed an hour or more in his study, alone, over papers, writing, taking notes, examining various accounts, and letters; but over his face, from time to time, ran a disagreeable quiver, and the nervous movements of his hand caused sheets of paper to rustle unpleasantly. At last the door of the antechamber opened and Maryan appeared, hat in hand. "Good-day, my father," began he on entering.
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