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It proved to be too far to the Tivoli Garden, and in addition to that one also had to pay for admission tickets, and the prices in the buffet were outrageous, and the program had ended long ago. Volodya Pavlov proposed going to him he had a dozen of beer and a little cognac home.
"It's remarkable," said Volodya Pavlov, "that all the Russian Garricks bear such queer names, on the style of Chrysantov, Thetisov, Mamontov and Epimhakov." "And besides that, the best known of them must needs either speak thickly, or lisp, or stammer," added the reporter.
Goodbye, my dear. . . . Let me make the sign of the cross over you." She made the sign of the cross over her son, and said in French, turning to Nyuta: "He's rather like Lermontov . . . isn't he?" Saying good-bye after a fashion, without looking any one in the face, Volodya went out of the dining-room. Ten minutes later he was walking along the road to the station, and was glad of it.
"The tone is extremely good." Vera Semyonovna looked at him, yawned aloud, and suddenly asked an unexpected question. In the evening she had a habit of yawning nervously and asking short, abrupt questions, not always relevant. "Volodya," she asked, "what is the meaning of non-resistance to evil?" "Non-resistance to evil!" repeated her brother, opening his eyes. "Yes. What do you understand by it?"
But you, Volodya, are ten years older than I am, and my husband is thirty years older. I've grown up before your eyes, and if you would, you could have made anything you liked of me an angel. But you" her voice quivered "treat me horribly. Yagitch has married me in his old age, and you . . ." "Come, come," said Volodya, sitting nearer her and kissing both her hands.
Then it seemed to Volodya that the room, Nyuta, the sunrise and himself all melted together in one sensation of acute, extraordinary, incredible bliss, for which one might give up one's whole life and face eternal torments. . . . But half a minute passed and all that vanished.
But that I should ever let myself go as far as that? Pfui!" "A greater fall I have not imagined!" said Rovinskaya loudly and with aversion, getting up. "Pay gentlemen, and let's go on from here." When they had gone out into the street, Volodya took her arm and said in an imploring voice: "For God's sake, isn't one experiment enough for you?" "Oh, what vulgarity! What vulgarity!"
Lentilov's incomprehensible utterances, and the way he was always whispering with Volodya, and the way Volodya seemed now to be always thinking about something instead of playing . . . all this was strange and mysterious. And the two elder girls, Katya and Sonya, began to keep a sharp look-out on the boys.
When his dreams were at their height, as he sat huddled together and looking at the ground in a dark corner of the arbour, he heard the sound of light footsteps. Some one was coming slowly along the avenue. Soon the steps stopped and something white gleamed in the entrance. "Is there any one here?" asked a woman's voice. Volodya recognised the voice, and raised his head in a fright.
Tell me something, if it's only one word." "One word? By all means: tararaboomdeeay." "Volodya, why do you despise me?" she asked hotly. "You talk to me in a special, fatuous way, if you'll excuse me, not as one talks to one's friends and women one respects. You are so good at your work, you are fond of science; why do you never talk of it to me? Why is it? Am I not good enough?"
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