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And a sudden wave of happiness came over Tamara when he kissed her hand. She was so weak the least thing could have made her cry. But her happiness was short-lived, for Gritzko afraid yet of showing what was in his heart seemed now colder than ever; though he was exulting within himself at the thought that the moment would come soon when all this pretence should end.
He hardly spoke; indeed they both had to crouch down in the furs to shelter from the blinding snow. And if Tamara had not been so preoccupied with keeping her woollen scarf tight over her head she would have noticed that when they left the park gate they turned to the right, in the full storm, not to the left, where it was clearer and which was the way they had come.
"This was done up by the late Princess, Tamara," her godmother said. "Even twenty years ago the taste was perfectly awful, as you can see. The whole house could be made beautiful if only there was someone who cared though I expect we shall be comfortable enough." The top passage proved to be wide, but only distempered in two colors, like the walls of a station waiting-room.
Emma Edwardovna turned around upon Tamara, who was right on the spot among a number of other girls, and with eyes filled with a cold, green hatred, hissed out: "Then you knew, you low-down thing, what she was preparing to do? ... You knew, you vermin? ... You knew and didn't tell? ..."
Tall of stature, almost of an athletic build, with a broad brow, like Beethoven's, tangled with artistically negligent black, grizzled hair; with the large fleshy mouth of the passionate orator; with clear, expressive, clever, mocking eyes he had such an appearance as catches one's eyes among thousands the appearance of a vanquisher of souls and a conqueror of hearts; deeply ambitious, not yet oversated with life; still fiery in love and never retreating before a beautiful indiscretion ... "If fate had not broken me up so," reflected Tamara, watching his movements with enjoyment, "then here's a man to whom I'd throw my life; jestingly, with delight, with a smile, as a plucked rose is thrown to the beloved..."
"Well, now, we have exchanged pleasantries," laughed Lichonin. "But it's amazing that we haven't met once just here. Evidently, you come to Anna Markovna's quite frequently?" "Even too much so." "Sergei Ivanich is our most important guest!" naively shrieked Niura. "Sergei Ivanich is a sort of brother among us!" "Fool!" Tamara stopped her. "That seems strange to me," continued Lichonin.
But the Sphinx was again talking to Tamara only this time in the voice of a young man who without a word of warning had risen from a bank of sand where he had been stretched motionless and unperceived. "A fine goddess, is she not, Madame," he said. And to add to the impertinence of a stranger's addressing her at all, Tamara was further incensed by the voice being that of a foreigner!
"Well, perhaps he isn't a nice person," allowed Tamara. "He may be mad. What was he like, since you saw so much, Millicent?" Mrs. Hardcastle glanced over her shoulder reproachfully. "You really speak as though I had looked on purpose," she said. "He seemed very long and not fat. I suppose, as his hair was not very dark, he must be an Englishman." "Oh, dear, no!" exclaimed Tamara.
For luncheon quite a number of guests arrived, the Princess, she found afterward, was hardly ever alone. "I don't care to go out, Tamara, as a rule, to déjeuner," she said, "but I love my house to be filled with young people and mirth."
Go to the Sphinx all alone at two o'clock in the morning. Would not people think it very strange?" Tamara felt a qualm for a second, but was rebellious. "Well, perhaps but do you know, Millicent, I believe I don't care. That carven block of stone has had a curious effect upon me. It has made me think as I have never done before. I want to take the clearest picture away with me I must go."
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