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Updated: June 23, 2025
Next day, when I met Dubkoff at Woloda's, the quarrel was not raked up, yet he and I still addressed each other as "you," and found it harder than ever to look one another in the face. The remembrance of my scene with Kolpikoff who, by the way, never sent me "de ses nouvelles," either the following day or any day afterwards remained for years a keen and unpleasant memory.
Every face expressed delight, and with the dessert which followed the meal the servants, with grave but gratified faces, brought in bottles of champagne. Grandmamma, for the first time since Mamma's death, drank a full glass of the wine to Woloda's health, and wept for joy as she looked at him. Henceforth Woloda drove his own turn-out, invited his own friends, smoked, and went to balls.
I had quite forgotten that it was dear Mamma's piece which I was playing." "No, no, my love; play it often," he said in a voice trembling with emotion. "Ah, if you only knew how much good it does me to share your tears!" He kissed her again, and then, mastering his feelings and shrugging his shoulders, went to the door leading to the corridor which ran past Woloda's room.
We talked about Woloda's riding a hunter and said what a shame it was that Lubotshka, could not run as fast as Katenka, and what fun it would be if we could see Grisha's chains, and so forth; but of the impending separation we said not a word. Our chatter was interrupted by the sound of the carriage driving up, with a village urchin perched on each of its springs.
"And do not forget the younger son," I said as I also approached her hand, with an involuntary imitation of Woloda's voice and expression. Had our stepmother and ourselves been certain of any mutual affection, that expression might have signified contempt for any outward manifestation of our love.
We got into bed, and Foka, bidding us good-night, retired. "It was in this room that Mamma died, was it not?" said Woloda. I made no reply, but pretended to be asleep. If I had said anything I should have burst into tears. On awaking next morning, I beheld Papa sitting on Woloda's bed in his dressing gown and slippers and smoking a cigar.
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