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Updated: June 18, 2025
My Spirit's waves, as towards the moon, Towards thee, love, flow: Its waters stirred by thee alone In weal or woe. My heart replete with love that grieves But yields no cry, I suffer cold as yonder moon Thou passest by. Panshine sang the second stanza with more than usual expression and feeling; in the stormy accompaniment might be heard the rolling of the waves.
After waiting a little, and having dusted his boots with a coarse handkerchief, he suddenly squeezed up his eyes, morosely compressed his lips, gave his already curved back an extra bend, and slowly entered the drawing-room. "Ah! Christophor Fedorovich, how do you do?" Panshine was the first to exclaim, as he jumped up quickly from his chair. "I didn't suspect you were there.
With her came her husband, a corpulent man, with red cheeks, large hands and feet, white eyelashes, and a smile which never left his thick lips. His wife never spoke to him in society; and at home, in her tender moments, she used to call him her "sucking pig." Panshine returned; the room became animated and noisy. Such an assemblage of people was by no means agreeable to Lavretsky.
"Invite her," he said, in a scarcely audible voice. "But we needn't ask Panshine." "No, we needn't," answered the old man, with an almost childlike smile. Two days later Lavretsky went into town and to the Kalatines'. He found them all at home, but he did not tell them of his plan immediately. He wanted to speak to Liza alone first.
She was not of herself disposed to like him very much, and Panshine, who had got her thoroughly under his influence, had praised him the evening before in a very astutely disparaging manner.
Lavretsky and Liza walked about the room, stopped in front of the open door leading into the garden, looked first into the gloaming distance and then at each other and smiled. It seemed as if they would so gladly have taken each other's hands and talked to their hearts' content. They returned to Maria Dmitrievna and Panshine, whose game dragged itself out to an unusual length.
That place is most convenient for me at present." Maria Dmitrievna became once more so embarrassed that she actually sat upright in her chair, and let her hands drop by her side. Panshine came to the rescue, and entered into conversation with Lavretsky.
The old man blushed to the ears, cast a side glance at Liza, and went hastily out of the room. Maria Dmitrievna asked Panshine to repeat his romance; but he declared that he did not like to offend the ears of the scientific German, and proposed to Liza to begin Beethoven's sonata. On this, Maria Dmitrievna sighed, and, on her part, proposed a stroll in the garden to Gedeonovsky.
Here is a picture of what was taking place at eleven o'clock that same evening in the Kalitines' house. Down stairs, on the threshold of the drawing-room, Panshine was taking leave of Liza, and saying, as he held her hand in his: "You know who it is that attracts me here; you know why I am always coming to your house. Of what use are words when all is so clear?"
Panshine took his hat, kissed her hand, remarked that nothing prevented more fortunate people from enjoying the night or going to sleep, but that he must sit up till morning over stupid papers, bowed coldly to Liza with-whom he was angry, for he had not expected that she would ask him to wait so long for an answer to his proposal and retired.
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