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Updated: June 13, 2025
Two days after the evening that I have just described I was driven to go and see Vera Michailovna. I was driven, partly by my curiosity, partly by my depression, and partly by my loneliness. This same loneliness was, I believe, at this time beginning to affect us all. I should be considered perhaps to be speaking with exaggeration if I were to borrow the title of one of Mrs.
I found Vera Michailovna to my relief alone. When Sacha brought me into the room she was doing what I think I had never seen her do before, sitting unoccupied, her eyes staring in front of her, her hands folded on her lap. "I don't believe that I've ever caught you idle before, Vera Michailovna," I said. "Oh, I'm glad you've come!"
Nevertheless, although everything in the room looked old except the white and gleaming stove, Vera Michailovna spread over the place the impress of her strong and active personality. It was not a sluggish room, nor was it untidy as so many Russian rooms are. Around the table everybody sat.
I found Markovitch, his wife Vera Michailovna, his sister-in-law Nina Michailovna, his wife's uncle Ivan Petrovitch and a young man Boris Nicolaievitch Grogoff. Markovitch himself was a thin, loose, untidy man with pale yellow hair thinning on top, a ragged, pale beard, a nose with a tendency to redden at any sudden insult or unkind word and an expression perpetually anxious.
There are always disadvantages in a Russian family. I am the disadvantage in this one." He laughed again, and insisted on taking my arm once more. That, I imagine, is the last thing that you wish. Well, then " "Vera Michailovna is my friend," I said hotly it was foolish of me to be so easily provoked, but I could not endure his sneering tone. "If you imply "
I never discovered that Markovitch was much consulted in these affairs. Vera Michailovna "ran" the flat financially, industrially, and spiritually. Markovitch meanwhile was busy with his inventions. I have, as yet, said nothing about Nicolai Leontievitch's inventions. I hesitate, indeed, to speak of them, although they are so essential, and indeed important a part of my story.
I, myself, felt the influence. Perhaps now the war would go better, perhaps Stunner and Protopopoff and the rest of them would be dismissed, and clean men... it was still time for the Czar.... And I heard Bohun, in his funny, slow, childish Russian: "But you understand, Vera Michailovna, that my father knows nothing about writing, nothing at all so that it wouldn't matter very much what he said.... Yes, he's military been in the Army always...."
He passed down the Quay and I turned towards home. About four o'clock on Christmas afternoon I took some flowers to Vera Michailovna. I found that the long sitting-room had been cleared of all furniture save the big table and the chairs round it. About a dozen middle-aged ladies were sitting about the table and solemnly playing "Lotto."
It was a woman of some forty years, dressed in sombre colours, probably a housekeeper or a governess. Hearing the names she came forward with a look of suspicion on her face. "Marie Alexandrovna is not at home," said she, staring hard at the general. "She has gone to her mother's, with Alexandra Michailovna." "Alexandra Michailovna out, too! How disappointing!
I'm sure if you were ever to write a book about us all, you'd write of me something like this: 'Vera Michailovna had won her victory. She had achieved her destiny.... Having surrendered her lover she was as fine as a Greek statue! Something like that.... Oh, I can see you at it!" "You don't understand " I began. "Oh, but I do!" she answered. "I've watched your attitude to me from the first.
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