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Updated: May 22, 2025
"Yes, yes, I see: I am not your wife nor your friend, but a woman you don't respect because she has become your mistress. . . . I shall kill myself!" I had not expected that her words and her tears would make such an impression on Orlov. He flushed, moved uneasily in his chair, and instead of irony, his face wore a look of stupid, schoolboyish dismay.
He looked in that direction, but though the columns would have been visible quite far off, they were not to be seen. It seemed to the count that things were beginning to stir in the French camp, and his keen-sighted adjutant confirmed this. "Oh, it is really too late," said Count Orlov, looking at the camp.
I went out of the study, and I don't know what answer Orlov received. Whatever it was, Polya remained. After that Zinaida Fyodorovna never applied to her for anything, and evidently tried to dispense with her services. When Polya handed her anything or even passed by her, jingling her bangle and rustling her skirts, she shuddered.
Every time I came back with the letter she scolded me, entreated me, thrust money into my hand as though she were in a fever. And all the night she did not sleep, but sat in the drawing-room, talking to herself. Orlov returned to dinner next day, and they were reconciled.
He screwed up his eyes and remained silent, and when the names of ladies of their acquaintance were mentioned, he held up his little finger as though to say they mustn't give away other people's secrets. Orlov suddenly looked at his watch. His friends understood, and began to take their leave. I remember that Gruzin, who was a little drunk, was wearisomely long in getting off.
As early as 1801 the Emperor Paul commanded the Hetman of the army of the Don, Orlov, to march upon the Ganges with 22,000 Cossacks. It is true that the campaign at that time was considered a far simpler matter than it really is. The Emperor died, and his venturesome plan was not proceeded with. During the Crimea General Kauffmann offered to conquer India with 25,000 men.
And how in answer to these words Alexey Sergeitch had made a wonderful bow, and had swept the floor from left to right with the plumes of his hat, as if he would say: 'Your Excellency, there is a line now between you and my spouse, which you will not overstep! And Orlov, Alexey Grigorievitch understood at once, and commended him.
"You are always reading . . ." she said cajolingly, evidently wishing to flatter him. "Do you know, George, what is one of the secrets of your success? You are very clever and well-read. What book have you there?" Orlov answered. A silence followed for some minutes which seemed to me very long. I was standing in the drawing-room, from which I could watch them, and was afraid of coughing.
"Yes, my dear, so long as I was worked up, everything went all right," she told Orlov; "but as night came on, my spirits sank. You don't believe in God, George, but I do believe a little, and I fear retribution. God requires of us patience, magnanimity, self-sacrifice, and here I am refusing to be patient and want to remodel my life to suit myself. Is that right?
A week after this conversation Orlov announced that he was again ordered to attend the senator, and the same evening he went off with his portmanteaus to Pekarsky. An old man of sixty, in a long fur coat reaching to the ground, and a beaver cap, was standing at the door. "Is Georgy Ivanitch at home?" he asked.
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