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Updated: June 7, 2025
Zinaida walked up and down the room, giving me a quick smile, whenever she caught my eye, but her thoughts were far away, I saw that clearly.... 'Shall I begin about what happened yesterday myself, I pondered; 'ask her, where she was hurrying off so fast, so as to find out once for all' ... but with a gesture of despair, I merely went and sat down in a corner.
For the next five or six days I hardly saw Zinaida; she said she was ill, which did not, however, prevent the usual visitors from calling at the lodge to pay as they expressed it, their duty all, that is, except Meidanov, who promptly grew dejected and sulky when he had not an opportunity of being enthusiastic.
At last we heard footsteps; Zinaida Fyodorovna came quickly into the hall, and seeing me at the door of my room, said: "Stepan, take Georgy Ivanitch his things." When I went in to Orlov with his clothes and his boots, he was sitting on the bed with his feet on the bearskin rug. There was an air of embarrassment about his whole figure.
I shall never forget the feeling that this man left behind him. Zinaida Fyodorovna still walked about the room in her excitement. That she was walking about and not still lying down was so much to the good. I wanted to take advantage of this mood to speak to her openly and then to go away, but I had hardly seen Gruzin out when I heard a ring. It was Kukushkin.
I was no longer afraid of being and seeming sentimental, and gave myself up entirely to the fatherly, or rather idolatrous feeling roused in me by Sonya, Zinaida Fyodorovna's child. I fed her with my own hands, gave her her bath, put her to bed, never took my eyes off her for nights together, and screamed when it seemed to me that the nurse was just going to drop her.
Full of proud consciousness that she had done something bold and out of the common, passionately in love, and, as she imagined, passionately loved, exhausted, looking forward to a sweet sound sleep, Zinaida Fyodorovna was revelling in her new life.
'Is that the young princess? he asked me. 'Yes. 'Why, do you know her? 'I saw her this morning at the princess's. My father stopped, and, turning sharply on his heel, went back. When he was on a level with Zinaida, he made her a courteous bow. She, too, bowed to him, with some astonishment on her face, and dropped her book. I saw how she looked after him.
'Give me my parasol, said Zinaida, 'I threw it down somewhere, and don't stare at me like that ... what ridiculous nonsense! you're not hurt, are you? stung by the nettles, I daresay?
I had to think of a night's lodging for myself. Next day towards evening I went to see Zinaida Fyodorovna. She was terribly changed. There were no traces of tears on her pale, terribly sunken face, and her expression was different.
Byelovzorov came in; I felt relieved to see him. 'I've not been able to find you a quiet horse, he said in a sulky voice; 'Freitag warrants one, but I don't feel any confidence in it, I am afraid. 'What are you afraid of? said Zinaida; 'allow me to inquire? 'What am I afraid of? Why, you don't know how to ride. Lord save us, what might happen!
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