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Updated: June 7, 2025
Mariana took a pen and wrote underneath: "You need not be sorry for me. God knows which of us two is more in need of pity. I only know that I wouldn't like to be in your place for worlds. M." She put the note on the table, not doubting that it would fall into Valentina Mihailovna's hand.
The maman was on the point of breaking into a squeal again, but catching her daughter's flashing eye, she subsided suddenly. "How could you talk about scandal, maman?" cried Liza, flushing red. "I came of my own accord with Yulia Mihailovna's permission, because I wanted to learn this unhappy woman's story and to be of use to her." "This unhappy woman's story!"
This old lady, who was Yulia Mihailovna's godmother, mentioned in her letter that Count K. knew Pyotr Stepanovitch very well through Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, made much of him, and thought him "a very excellent young man in spite of his former errors."
I remained with her for a whole hour; the prince did so too. The chief of the police, who had hurried from the ball to the fire, had succeeded in getting Andrey Antonovitch out of the hall after us, and attempted to put him into Yulia Mihailovna's carriage, trying all he could to persuade his Excellency "to seek repose." But I don't know why he did not insist.
I positively heard her say "forgive him." It all happened very quickly. But I remember for a fact that a section of the public rushed out of the hall immediately after those words of Yulia Mihailovna's as though panic-stricken. I remember one hysterical, tearful feminine shriek: "Ach, the same thing again!"
I knew, of course, that it was part of Yulia Mihailovna's idea that the ball should be of the most democratic character, and that "even working people and shopmen should not be excluded if any one of that class chanced to pay for a ticket."
Yulia Mihailovna's method was that of contemptuous silence, for one hour, two, a whole day and almost for three days and nights silence whatever happened, whatever he said, whatever he did, even if he had clambered up to throw himself out of a three-story window a method unendurable for a sensitive man!
This revolting story excited nothing but mirth all over the town, and though the poor wife did not belong to Yulia Mihailovna's circle, one of the ladies of the "cavalcade," an eccentric and adventurous character who happened to know her, drove round, and simply carried her off to her own house.
In the first transport of joy he informed his sister that he had made Natalya an offer, and received her consent and Darya Mihailovna's; and he promised to write more by the next post, and sent embraces and kisses to all. It was clear he was writing in a state of delirium. Tea was served, Bassistoff sat down. Questions were showered upon him.
Darya Mihailovna's children worshipped Bassistoff, and yet were not in the least afraid of him; he was on a friendly footing with all the rest of the household, a fact which was not altogether pleasing to its mistress, though she was fond of declaring that for her social prejudices did not exist. 'Good-morning, my dears, began Konstantin Diomiditch, 'how early you have come for your walk to-day!
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