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Sergey Ivanovitch smiled at the intentional character of the question. "No one is interested in that now, and I less than anyone," he said. "Just look, Darya Alexandrovna, we shall have a shower," he added, pointing with a sunshade at the white rain clouds that showed above the aspen tree-tops.
He was clearly attracted by Varvara, and made no secret of his feelings. She trusted him in a friendly way, but had not shown him any decided encouragement as yet, which fact did not quell his ardour in the least. Nina Alexandrovna was very fond of him, and had grown quite confidential with him of late.
In spite of his usual courtesy, Vronsky interrupted her. "This is not a lying-in home, but a hospital for the sick, and is intended for all diseases, except infectious complaints," he said. "Ah! look at this," and he rolled up to Darya Alexandrovna an invalid chair that had just been ordered for the convalescents. "Look." He sat down in the chair and began moving it.
And Darya Alexandrovna described Masha's crime. "That proves nothing; it's not a question of evil propensities at all, it's simply mischief," Levin assured her. "But you are upset about something? What have you come for?" asked Dolly. "What's going on there?" And in the tone of her question Levin heard that it would be easy for him to say what he had meant to say.
Her hair had begun to grow grey and thin, there had long been little crow's foot wrinkles round her eyes, her cheeks were hollow and sunken from anxiety and grief, and yet it was a handsome face. She was Dounia over again, twenty years older, but without the projecting underlip. Pulcheria Alexandrovna was emotional, but not sentimental, timid and yielding, but only to a certain point.
Darya Alexandrovna could not suppress a good-humored smile as she recognized him. Behind rode Vronsky on a dark bay mare, obviously heated from galloping. He was holding her in, pulling at the reins. After him rode a little man in the dress of a jockey. Sviazhsky and Princess Varvara in a new char-
It is the same as yesterday again," Pulcheria Alexandrovna cried, mournfully. "And why do you call yourself a scoundrel? I can't bear it. You said the same yesterday." "Brother," Dounia answered firmly and with the same dryness. "In all this there is a mistake on your part. I thought it over at night, and found out the mistake.
And then, you would hardly believe it, but my mother Nina Alexandrovna helps Hippolyte in all sorts of ways, sends him money and clothes. She even goes as far as helping the children, through Hippolyte, because their mother cares nothing about them, and Varia does the same."
"And a very expensive one!" added Pulcheria Alexandrovna. "A-ah! What a big one! Hardly like a lady's." "I like that sort," said Dounia. "So it is not a present from her fiance," thought Razumihin, and was unreasonably delighted. "I thought it was Luzhin's present," observed Raskolnikov. "No, he has not made Dounia any presents yet." "A-ah!
There was a light in Dounia's eyes, and even Pulcheria Alexandrovna looked kindly at Sonia. "Rodya," she said, getting up, "we shall have dinner together, of course. Come, Dounia.... And you, Rodya, had better go for a little walk, and then rest and lie down before you come to see us.... I am afraid we have exhausted you...." "Yes, yes, I'll come," he answered, getting up fussily.
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