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Updated: June 4, 2025
When she came to Giovanni's she flew in like a bird. I waited a moment longer, and saw the guards lock the door and the train pull out!" Though Nina understood only vaguely what it all meant, she was human and feminine enough to find a certain grim satisfaction in the thought that Giovanni was no more to be trusted by the Potensi than by herself. A short time afterward Zoya got up to go.
Nina's expression had a curious little note in it that made the Countess Zoya cross the room and sit on the arm of her chair. Her slim fingers ran lightly over Nina's hair, "You poor child!" she said. "Ah, I am glad I was never so rich. If I were so rich I should be dreadful! I would never believe in any one's caring for me. I should doubt even my Carlo! I could not help it!"
Then, changing his tone, he said earnestly: "I am really sorry, but I am afraid I shall have to leave the picture question until I come back." "You are going straight off to Sicily?" "Yes." "To be gone how long?" "I don't know; I have no idea. Weeks, perhaps. Months, very likely; why do you ask?" "May I say something something very frank to you?" Zoya leaned forward with a sudden direct impulse.
The page announced the arrival of the two friends. They came in. Bersenyev introduced Insarov. Elena asked them to sit down, and sat down herself, while Zoya went off upstairs; she had to inform Anna Vassilyevna of their arrival. A conversation was begun of a rather insignificant kind, like all first conversations. Shubin was silently watching from a corner, but there was nothing to watch.
Fortunately, her agitation seemed natural to the prince and princess, and her apparent interest in Giovanni was so near to the truth that she did not mind. Late that afternoon she and Zoya Olisco sat together behind the tea table, for most of the time alone. Zoya had the story pretty straight, but Nina simply looked at her dumbly answering nothing.
Then with a smile he bowed to the Contessa Zoya and went in search of the Princess Sansevero, to say good-by. He found her in the adjoining room, absorbed in the music; and luckily there was an empty chair beside her, into which he quietly dropped.
Zoya was the first to open the gate; she ran into the garden, crying: 'I have brought the wanderers! A young girl, with a pale and expressive face, rose from a garden bench near the little path, and in the doorway of the house appeared a lady in a lilac silk dress, holding an embroidered cambric handkerchief over her head to screen it from the sun, and smiling with a weary and listless air.
The conversation there, as it happened, came back to the subject of Carpazzi. Zoya Olisco lit her cigarette and spoke with it pasted on her lower lip. She smoked like this continually, and never touched the cigarette except to light it and put a new one in its place. "Though I see what he means," she said, "I should, were I in his place, claim a title! They need not take a new one.
One might put it in three words: One must work!" Zoya shook her head she did it charmingly. "No, no," she said softly; "you are altogether wrong though I also can put it in three words. Life lies in this: One must love. That's all there is!" The conversation ended there, for the Duke Scorpa and Count Masco came up to speak to the contessa.
But it is only a business venture, his mining not a philanthropic one. At least I have not heard about any poor people who are to be relieved." Zoya put her hands over her eyes and then her ears as though to shut out both sight and sound. "Oh, it is horrible horrible in the sulphur mines! You have no idea! Nowhere in all the world is life so dreadful."
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