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By degrees, not only they, but the whole room, everything surrounding her, seemed like a dream everything: the samovar on the table, and Uvar Ivanovitch's short waistcoat, and Zoya's polished finger-nails, and the portrait in oils of the Grand Duke Constantine Pavlovitch on the wall; everything retreated, everything was wrapped in mist, everything ceased to exist.
'He will swim out, he answered with contemptuous and unsympathetic indifference. 'Let us go on, he added, taking Anna Vassilyevna by the arm. 'Come, Uvar Ivanovitch, Elena Nikolaevna. 'A a o o' was heard at that instant, the plaint of the hapless German who had managed to get hold of the rushes on the bank. They all followed Insarov, and had to pass close by the party.
A mood of sadness had come upon Shubin; the breeze was blowing into his eyes and irritating him; he retired into the collar of his cloak and was on the point of tears. Uvar Ivanovitch was snoring blissfully, rocking from side to side. The carriages came to a standstill at last.
Uvar Ivanovitch leaned on his elbow and stared at the enthusiastic artist. 'That's a long way off, he said at last with his usual gesture; 'we're speaking of other people, why bring in yourself? 'O great philosopher of the Russian world! cried Shubin, 'every word of yours is worth its weight in gold, and it's not to me but to you a statue ought to be raised, and I would undertake it.
Now he's just tearing and raving round; he all but gave me a thrashing, he's bringing a father's curse on the scene now, as cross as a bear with a sore head; but that's of no importance. Anna Vassilyevna's crushed, but she's much more brokenhearted at her daughter leaving her than at her marriage. Uvar Ivanovitch flourished his fingers. 'A mother, he commented, 'to be sure.
'Hi, shouted Uvar Ivanovitch a quarter of an hour later, 'you there... a glass of spirits. A little page brought the glass of spirits and some salt fish on a tray. Uvar Ivanovitch slowly took the glass from the tray and gazed a long while with intense attention at it, as though he could not quite understand what it was he had in his hand.
At last he snatched her fingers, and squeezed them so tightly that she shrieked, and for a long time afterwards breathed on her hand, pretending to be angry, while he murmured something in her ears. 'Mischievous things, young people, Anna Vassilyevna observed gaily to Uvar Ivanovitch. He flourished his fingers in reply. 'What a girl Zoya Nikitishna is! said Bersenyev to Elena. 'And Shubin?
There were also in the room her husband and a certain Uvar Ivanovitch Stahov, a distant cousin of Nikolai Artemyevitch, a retired cornet of sixty years old, a man corpulent to the point of immobility, with sleepy yellowish eyes, and colourless thick lips in a puffy yellow face.
She felt inclined to kiss Uvar Ivanovitch. 'How he splashed! she explained at last. But Uvar Ivanovitch did not stir a muscle, and continued to look with amazement at Elena. She dropped her hat and cape on to him. 'Dear Uvar Ivanovitch, she said, 'I am sleepy and tired, and again she laughed and sank into a low chair near him.
'Your nephew, resumed Shubin, 'threatens to lodge a complaint with the Metropolitan and the General-Governor and the Minister, but it will end by her going. A happy thought to ruin his own daughter! He'll crow a little and then lower his colours. 'They'd no right, observed Uvar Ivanovitch, and he drank out of the jug. 'To be sure.
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