Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 14, 2025
Without answering his words, Varya bent over him, and with a delighted smile gazed into his face. His eyes were clear, not feverish; but their expression was stern. "Thank God!" she said. "You're not in pain?" "A little here." He pointed to his breast. "Then let me change your bandages." In silence, stiffening his broad jaws, he looked at her while she bandaged him up.
"Oh, I don't regard her as fallen more than hundreds of women you do receive!" Vronsky interrupted her still more gloomily, and he got up in silence, understanding that his sister-in-law's decision was not to be shaken. "Alexey! don't be angry with me. Please understand that I'm not to blame," began Varya, looking at him with a timid smile.
YALTA, November 2, 1903. ... About the play. Anya can be played by anyone you like, even by a quite unknown actress, so long as she is young and looks like a girl, and speaks in a youthful singing voice. It is not an important part. Varya is a more serious part.... She is a character in a black dress, something of a nun, foolish, tearful, etc.
"Not so ardently!" cried Shelestov with tears of laughter. "Not so ardently!" It was Nikitin's "fate" to hear the confessions of all. He sat on a chair in the middle of the drawing-room. A shawl was brought and put over his head. The first who came to confess to him was Varya. "I know your sins," Nikitin began, looking in the darkness at her stern profile.
He knew that his mother, who had been so enthusiastic over Anna at their first acquaintance, would have no mercy on her now for having ruined her son's career. But he had more hope of Varya, his brother's wife. He fancied she would not throw stones, and would go simply and directly to see Anna, and would receive her in her own house.
"Lidotchka, who is it you are writing such a lot to?" Somov inquires, seeing that his wife is just beginning to scribble the sixth page. "To sister Varya." "Hm . . . it's a long letter! I'm so bored let me read it!" "Here, you may read it, but there's nothing interesting in it." Somov takes the written pages and, still pacing up and down, begins reading.
And she rolled the r so impressively that Mushka invariably answered from under a chair, "Rrr . . . nga-nga-nga . . . !" On this occasion at tea the argument began with Nikitin's mentioning the school examinations. "Excuse me, Sergey Vassilitch," Varya interrupted him. "You say it's difficult for the boys. And whose fault is that, let me ask you?
I took up my diary to describe my complete and perfect happiness, and thought I would write a good six pages, and read it tomorrow to Masha; but, strange to say, everything is muddled in my head and as misty as a dream, and I can remember vividly nothing but that episode with Varya, and I want to write, 'Poor Varya! I could go on sitting here and writing 'Poor Varya! By the way, the trees have begun rustling; it will rain.
He must behave with perfect decorum, like an educated man, with no petty ways or tricks of any sort, and it seemed to me this part, the central one of the play, would come out brilliantly in your hands.... In choosing an actor for the part you must remember that Varya, a serious and religious girl, is in love with Lopahin; she wouldn't be in love with a mere money-grubber....
They passed the slaughter-houses, then the brewery, and overtook a military band hastening to the suburban gardens. "Polyansky has a very fine horse, I don't deny that," Masha said to Nikitin, with a glance towards the officer who was riding beside Varya. "But it has blemishes. That white patch on its left leg ought not to be there, and, look, it tosses its head.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking