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Updated: June 21, 2025
Now, on the bench of the garden, Kranitski raised his face from his palms and looked at the exchange. The porch with its broad steps was empty, but Darvid's carriage was there yet, showing a spot of gleaming sapphire in the sunny air, the horses stood in trained fixedness, like statues cast from bronze. Kranitski's lips were awry with distaste.
With stifled voice, but fixing his black, flashing eyes boldly on Darvid's face, he said: "Deceit! villainy! those words are said easily! Do you not know that in early youth your wife was almost my betrothed?" Darvid's lips were covered with irony, and he said: "You deserted her at command of your mother, when she sent you to this capital in search of the golden fleece."
Darvid stood on the platform, lost in that crowd of the curious, and snatches of conversation struck his ear. "She will not go!" said one man. "She will! There is time enough yet!" said another. "He detains her purposely, so that she may not go." "He does, for she is beautiful. Her smile is as charming as her song." "He is a daring boy," said some third man near Darvid's other ear.
Darvid turned his face to her suddenly, and their glances which till then had avoided each other carefully, met for a few seconds; but during that time Darvid's eyes filled with the glitter of keen steel, and Malvina bent her face so low over the plate that, in the sharp light, one could see only her forehead, with its one deep wrinkle.
Darvid's voice, low but metallic, filled the study, it was heard by all with an attention almost religious; in general, Darvid seemed to ride over that ever-changing throng of men, by his word, by his gestures, by his eyes, with their cold and penetrating gleam, from behind the glasses of his binocle.
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