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Updated: May 2, 2025
The same happy, smiling Circassian, with mustache and beaming eyes looking up from under a sable hood, was still sitting there, and that Circassian was Sonya, and that Sonya was certainly his future happy and loving wife. When they reached home and had told their mother how they had spent the evening at the Melyukovs', the girls went to their bedroom.
"Now to tell one's fortune in the empty bathhouse is frightening!" said an old maid who lived with the Melyukovs, during supper. "Why?" said the eldest Melyukov girl. "You wouldn't go, it takes courage..." "I'll go," said Sonya. "Tell what happened to the young lady!" said the second Melyukov girl.
"Are we getting to the Melyukovs'? Is this Melyukovka? Heaven only knows where we are going, and heaven knows what is happening to us but it is very strange and pleasant whatever it is." And he looked round in the sleigh. "Look, his mustache and eyelashes are all white!" said one of the strange, pretty, unfamiliar people the one with fine eyebrows and mustache.
Natasha, the young Melyukovs' favorite, disappeared with them into the back rooms where a cork and various dressing gowns and male garments were called for and received from the footman by bare girlish arms from behind the door. Ten minutes later, all the young Melyukovs joined the mummers.
"No, why disturb the old fellow?" said the countess. "Besides, you wouldn't have room to turn round there. If you must go, go to the Melyukovs'." Melyukova was a widow, who, with her family and their tutors and governesses, lived three miles from the Rostovs. "That's right, my dear," chimed in the old count, thoroughly aroused. "I'll dress up at once and go with them.
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