the novel smoke

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Smoke byIvanTurgenev TranslatedbyConstanceGarnett London,Heinemann,1897 INTRODUCTIONBY JOHNREED INTRODUCTION[byJohnReed,1919] WHENLitvinovwastornloosefromhis“farfromgayorcomplicated”life, caughtupinaluridpassioninwhichhewasneverathome,andthenabandoned, hefleduponthetrain Atfirsthewasexhaustedbytheprodigiouseffortofwill hehadmade;thenakindofcomposurecameuponhim He“washardened.”The train,theminutes,werecarryinghimawayfromthewreckofhislife “Hetooktogazingoutofthewindow Thedaywasgrayanddamp;therewasno rain,butthefogheldon,andlowlyingcloudsveiledthesky Thewindwas blowinginthecontrarydirectiontothecourseofthetrain;whitishcloudsof steam,nowalone,nowmingledwithother,darkerclouds,ofsmoke,swept,inan endlessseries,pastthewindowbesidewhichLitvinovsat Hebegantowatch thesteam,thesmoke Incessantlywhirling,risingandfalling,twistingand catchingatthegrass,atthebushes,playingpranks,asitwere,lengtheningand melting,pufffollowedpuff,…theywereconstantlychangingandyetremained thesame…amonotonous,hurried,tiresomegame!Sometimesthewind changed,theroadmadeaturn—thewholemasssuddenlydisappeared,and immediatelybecamevisiblethroughtheoppositewindow;then,oncemore,the hughtrainflungitselfover,andoncemoreveiledfromLitvinovthewideview oftheRhineValley Hegazedandgazed,andastrangereflectionoccurredto him… Hewasaloneinthecarriage;therewasnoonetointerferewithhim ‘Smoke,smoke’—herepeatedseveraltimesinsuccession;andsuddenly everythingappearedtohimtobesmoke—everything,hisownlife,everything pertainingtomen,especiallyeverythingRussian Everythingissmokeand steam,hethought;—everythingseemstobeconstantlyundergoingchange; everywheretherearenewforms,phenomenonfollowsphenomenon,butin realityeverythingisexactlyalike;everythingishurrying,hasteningsomewhither —andeverythingvanisheswithoutleavingatrace,withouthavingattainedto anyendwhatever;anotherbreezehasbeguntoblow—andeverythinghasbeen flungtotheotherside,andthere,again,isthesameincessant,agitated—and uselessgame Herecalledmanythingswhichhadtakenplace,withmuchsound andclatter,beforehiseyesthelastfewyears ‘smoke,’hemurmured, —‘smoke.’” “Smoke.”ThisisnotonlyLitvinov’sreactionfromexperiencestooterriblefor hismindandhearttostand—andalsohisconsolation—butitisTurgenev’sown reactiontolife Theprofounddisillusionfollowingthefailureofthe Revolutionarymovementof‘48,whichsweptovertheintellectualsofEurope, hadalsoitscharacteristicrepercussionamongtheintellectualyouthofRussia, andmadeagenerationlikethelatergenerationsowellportrayedbyTchekov— themenofthe’80s,andalsoliketheIntelligentsiaafterthefailureofthe Revolutionof1905 Therestlessfutility,self-searching,flabbinessofwillsonativetothistypeare incarnateinoneofTurgenev’sgreatestcharacters,Rudin Theypersistin numerouscharactersinSmoke,andarenotabsentfromthemake-upofLitvinov himself—norofTurgenev,forthatmatter Theconceptionofthefutilityof effort,ofrevolution,ofpoliticalideasingeneral,thetranquillityattainedonlyby seeinglifefromthestandpointofeternity,Turgenevhadalreadyenunciatedin FathersandChildren HewishedtoseelifewithOlympiancalm;theironyof Basarov’sdeathisakey-noteofhisprofoundpessimism ButinSmokethereis bittersatire,showingthatlifetohimwasstillabattle,anexasperation TheclaimssooftenmadebycriticsthatTurgenev,thenaturalaristocrat,was alwaysconsciously,aboveall,anartist,aredisprovedbyhisown autobiographicalnoteprefacedtothecompleteeditionofhisworkspublishedin Moscowin1880: “ItookaheaderintotheGermanOcean,”hesays,speakingofhisgoingto Berlin,tostudyintheUniversity—where,bytheway,hewasafellow-student withBakunin “…Itwasabsolutelynecessaryformetogetclearofmyenemy, thebettertostrikefromadistance Tomyeyesthisenemyhadaformidable appearance,andanordinaryname Myenemywasthe‘lawfulness’ofSerfdom.” This“enemy”Turgenevsworetoconquer “Itwasmy‘Hannibaloath,’andin thosedaysIwasnottheonlyonewhotookit… IwenttoGermanytoenableme tofulfillit…” Howwellhekeptthisoathisevidentintheeffectof“Sportsmen’sSketches,”his firstimportantbook,publishedabout1852,which,intheguiseofmere description,depictedthewretchednessofthepeasantsinawaythatroused Russianpublicopinion,morethananyotheroneinfluence,todemandthe EmancipationoftheSerfs ThisbookisoftencalledtheRussian“UncleTom’s Cabin,”andappearedcontemporaneouslywithit ThemotiveofEmancipation runsthroughalmostallTurgenev’swork,andappearsinSmoke,whichwas publishedafterthefreeingoftheSerfs (Bytheway,thereisahumorous referencetoMrs StoweinChapterIV.)Forinstance,when,bruisedandbroken, LitvinovreturnstohisestateinRussia,hewasatfirstunabletochangetheold system: “Newideaswontheirwaybadly,oldoneshadlosttheirforce;theignorant clashedwiththedishonest;hiswholederangedexistencewasinconstant motion,likeaquakingbog,andonlythegreatword‘Liberty’moved,likethe spiritofGod,overthewaters… “Butayearpassed,thenasecond,thethirdwasbeginning Thegrandthought wasgraduallybeingrealized,wasbeingtransformedintofleshandblood;a sproutwasputtingforthfromtheseedthathadbeensown;anditsenemies, eitheropenorsecret,couldnolongertrampleitunderfoot.” ThetremendousinterestarousedbyTurgenev’sbooksinRussiawaspartlydue tothefactthattheywereallconcernedwithpolitics—that,besidetheirdelicate andrestrainedliteraryart,throughthemallranastrainofpropaganda—thatthey dealtwiththeactualburningquestionsofthetimes Smoke,inparticular,was Turgenev’scontributiontothegreatcontroversybetweentheSlavophilsand thosewhochampionedwesternidealsforRussia Thereisnodoubtthat Turgenev’sownidealsareexpressedbytheruinednoblemanPotugin;and Litvinovhimself,aratherquiet,ordinaryyoungman,whohastraveledover Europestudyingtechnologyandscientificfarming,isthekindofmanthat TurgenevpassionatelybelievesRussiatoneed Butatthesametimetheauthorhasconcentratedhismostbitterattackupon thoseRussianyoungmenwhohavecometoEuropeandabsorbed,withalltheir Slavicfacility,amassofundigestedEuropeanideasandtheories Thereis nothinginliteraturemorestingingthanthesatireofthefirstsixchaptersof Smoke,whichhasaqualityofDickensaboutit Thisisnothatred,however Whilelaughingbitterlyathisyoung“intellectual”countrymen,Turgenev understandsthem;they,likehimself,arecreaturesofenvironmentandheredity Buthepourshiscontemptuponthe“aristocrats”ofSt Petersburg,whoareonly cruelandcorrupt ThelifeofLitvinovis,initsfundamentals,thelifeofTurgenevhimself Like Litvinov,theauthorwasthe“sonofaretiredpettyofficial,”livingonacountry estate,withamotherwhotriedtoliveasanoble,onaninsufficientincome, ruiningtheestateintheprocess AswithLitvinov,nothingbutFrenchwas spokeninTurgenev’sfamily TurgenevhimselfhadtolearnRussianfromthe houseservants—thelanguageofwhichhewasafterwardstobethegreatmaster LikeLitvinov,TurgenevalsolivedinBaden Smokewaswrittenthere,andthe episodesandcharactersareundoubtedlyfromlife HecametoBadentobenear MadameViardot,theoperasinger,hismostintimate,life-longfriend…No doubt,also,Irinacamefromhisownexperience,atsometime Sheisoneofa trio,passionateandbeautiful,wreckersofmen:VarvaraPavlovna,inA Nobleman’sNest;MariaNikol�vna,inTorrentsofSpring;andIrina Butsheis byfartheclearestandmosthumanofthethree Manymenhaveknownsuch women—womenwholivelikepanthers,takingwhattheywantandmoving throughtheworldallbalefulfire,fitmatesonlyforthestrong AndLitvinovwas notstrong—norwasTurgenev TurgenevwasthenextofthegreatRussiannovelistsinlineafterGogol,the predecessorandfinallyminorcontemporaryofthegiantsTolstoyand Dostoyevsky TheRussianrealisticnovel,developinginitsownwayatechnique distinctfromthatofWesternliterature,canbepartiallyexplainedbythepolitical conditionsinRussia Politicswereforbidden,andyettheRussianpeoplewerepassionatelyconcerned withpoliticsandtheRussiannovelistsareaboveallpoliticalpropagandists Yet howcouldpoliticsbewrittenaboutsoastobeprintedopenlyandreadin Russia?OnlybydescribingRussianlifeandinstitutionsintheformofastory, onlybypaintingapictureofpeopleandpermittingthereadertodrawhisown conclusions InthisTurgenevexcelled… Smoke,outsideoftheonetremendousepisodeofLitvinovandIrinainBaden,is chieflyinterestingtousasadescriptionofRussiansociety,notonlyinthe‘60, butevenupto1917 Thissameintelligentsia,absorbingallEuropeanideas, readingallbooks,adoptingallEuropeantheories,touchedbythesame instinctivesympathyforWesternliberalism,—andhence,therevolutionary movementinRussia,—desertedtheRevolutioninapanicwhenitpresented itselfinallitsuncouthpower Thissamecorruptandbrutalofficial“aristocracy,” overthrownwiththeTsar,nownolongerexists,exceptinexile,whereit intriguesandconspireswithfutilerage,unabletocomprehenditsfate InRussiato-daytheSovietGovernmenthaspublishedaneditionofTurgenev’s works,andthepeoplereadtheminthesamespiritofadmirationforhisliterary skill,thesamesympathyfortheuniversalqualityofhischaracters,andthesame historicalinterestastheydoanyfaithfulchroniclerofanageendedforever JOHNREED SMOKE THENAMESOFTHECHARACTERSINTHEBOOK GRIG�RY[Gr�sha]MIH�LOVITCHLITV�NOV TAT-Y�NA[T�nya]PETR�VNASHEST�V KAPITOL�NAM�RKOVNA ROSTISL�VBAMB�EV SEMY�NY�KOVLEVITCHVOROSH�LOV STEP�NNIKOL�EVITCHGUBAR-Y�V MATR�NASEMY�NOVNASUH�NTCHIKOV TITBIND�SOV PISH-TCH�LKIN SOZ�NTIV�NITCHPOT�GIN IR�NAP�VLOVNAOS�NIN VALERI�NVLAD�MIROVITCHRATM�ROV IntranscribingtheRussiannamesintoEnglish— vowelhasthesoundof… ahasthesoundofainfather ehasthesoundofainpane ihasthesoundofee uhasthesoundofoo yisalwaysconsonantalexceptwhenitisthelastletteroftheword gisalwayshard SMOKE ChapterI ONthe10thofAugust,1862,atfouro’clockintheafternoon,agreatnumberof peoplewerethrongingbeforethewell-knownKonversationinBaden-Baden Theweatherwaslovely;everythingaround—thegreentrees,thebrighthouses ofthegaycity,andtheundulatingoutlineofthemountains—everythingwasin holidaymood,baskingintheraysofthekindlysunshine;everythingseemed smilingwithasortofblind,confidingdelight;andthesameglad,vaguesmile strayedoverthehumanfaces,too,oldandyoung,uglyandbeautifulalike Even theblackenedandwhitenedvisagesoftheParisiandemi-mondecouldnot destroythegeneralimpressionofbrightcontentandelation,whiletheirmanycoloredribbonsandfeathersandthesparksofgoldandsteelontheirhatsand veilsinvoluntarilyrecalledtheintensifiedbrillianceandlightflutteringofbirds inspring,withtheirrainbow-tintedwings Butthedry,gutturalsnappingofthe Frenchjargon,heardonallsidescouldnotequalthesongofbirds,norbe comparedwithit Everything,however,wasgoingoninitsaccustomedway Theorchestrainthe PavilionplayedfirstamedleyfromtheTraviata,thenoneofStrauss’swaltzes, then“Tellher,”aRussiansong,adaptedforinstrumentsbyanobliging conductor Inthegamblingsaloons,roundthegreentables,crowdedthesame familiarfigures,withthesamedull,greedy,half-stupefied,half-exasperated, whollyrapaciousexpression,whichthegamblingfeverlendstoall,eventhe mostaristocratic,features Thesamewell-fedandultra-fashionablydressed RussianlandownerfromTambovwithwidestaringeyesleanedoverthetable, andwithuncomprehendinghaste,heedlessofthecoldsmilesofthecroupiers themselves,attheveryinstantofthecry“riennevaplus,”laidwithperspiring handgoldenringsoflouisd’oronallthefourcornersoftheroulette,depriving himselfbysodoingofeverypossibilityofgaininganything,evenincaseof success Thisdidnotintheleastpreventhimthesameeveningfromaffirming thecontrarywithdisinterestedindignationtoPrinceKok�,oneofthewellknownleadersofthearistocraticopposition,thePrinceKok�,whoinParisat thesalonofthePrincessMathilde,sohappilyremarkedinthepresenceofthe Emperor:“Madame,leprincipedelapropri�t�estprofond�ment�branl� enRussie.”AttheRussiantree,�l’arbreRusse,ourdearfellow-countrymen andcountrywomenwereassembledaftertheirwont Theyapproachedhaughtily andcarelesslyinfashionablestyle,greetedeachotherwithdignityandelegant ease,asbefitsbeingswhofindthemselvesatthetopmostpinnacleof contemporaryculture Butwhentheyhadmetandsatdowntogether,theywere absolutelyatalossforanythingtosaytooneanother,andhadtobecontentwith apitifulinterchangeofinanities,orwiththeexceedinglyindecentand exceedinglyinsipidoldjokesofahopelesslystaleFrenchwit,onceajournalist, achatteringbuffoonwithJewishshoesonhispaltrylittlelegs,anda contemptiblelittlebeardonhismeanlittlevisage Heretailedtothem,�ces princesrusses,allthesweetabsurditiesfromtheoldcomicalmanacsCharivari andTintamarre,andthey,cesprincesrusses,burstintogratefullaughter,as thoughforcedinspiteofthemselvestorecognizethecrushingsuperiorityof foreignwit,andtheirownhopelessincapacitytoinventanythingamusing Yet herewerealmostallthe“finefleur”ofoursociety,“allthehigh-lifeandmirrors offashion.”HerewasCountX.,ourincomparabledilettante,aprofoundly musicalnature;whosodivinelyrecitessongsonthepiano,butcannot,infact, taketwonotescorrectlywithoutfumblingatrandomonthekeys,andsingsina stylesomethingbetweenthatofapoorgypsysingerandaParisianhairdresser HerewasourenchantingBaronQ.,amasterineveryline:literature, administration,oratory,andcard-sharping Here,too,wasPrinceY.,thefriendof religionandthepeople,whointheblissfulepochwhenthespirit-tradewasa monopoly,hadmadehimselfbetimesahugefortunebythesaleofvodka adulteratedwithbelladonna;andthebrilliantGeneralO O.,whohadachieved thesubjugationofsomething,andthepacificationofsomethingelse,andwhois neverthelessstillanonentity,anddoesnotknowwhattodowithhimself And R R theamusingfatman,whoregardshimselfasagreatinvalidandagreat wit,thoughheis,infact,asstrongasabull,andasdullasapost… ThisR R is almosttheonlymaninourdaywhohaspreservedthetraditionsofthedandies oftheforties,oftheepochofthe“HeroofourTimes,”andtheCountess Vorotinsky Hehaspreserved,too,thespecialgaitwiththeswingontheheels, andlecultedelapose(itcannotevenbeputintowordsinRussian),the unnaturaldeliberationofmovement,thesleepydignityofexpression,the immoyable,offended-lookingcountenance,andthehabitofinterruptingother people’sremarkswithayawn,gazingathisownfinger-nails,laughingthrough hisnose,suddenlyshiftinghishatfromthebackofhisheadontohiseyebrows, etc Here,too,werepeopleingovernmentcircles,diplomats,big-wigswith Europeannames,menofwisdomandintellect,whoimaginethattheGolden BullwasanedictofthePope,andthattheEnglishpoor-taxisataxleviedonthe poor Andhere,too,werethehot-blooded,thoughtongue-tied,devoteesofthe damesauxcamellias,youngsocietydandies,withsuperbpartingsdowntheback oftheirheads,andsplendiddroopingwhiskers,dressedinrealLondon deadhumanhead,andforyourgoodness,perhapsyoumaysucceedinleaping overthefatalstone Iwon’tkeepyouanylonger,onlyletmeembraceyouat parting.” “I’mnotgoingtotrytoleapoverit,even,”Litvinovdeclared,kissingPotugin threetimes,andthebittersensationsfillinghissoulwerereplacedforaninstant bypityforthepoor,lonelycreature “ButImustgo,Imustgo….”hemovedabouttheroom “CanIcarryanything foryou?”Potuginprofferedhisservices “No,thankyou,don’ttrouble,Icanmanage….” Heputonhiscap,tookuphisbag “Soyousay,”hequeried,stoppinginthe doorway,“youhaveseenher?” “Yes,I’veseenher.” “Well…tellmeabouther.” Potuginwassilentamoment “Sheexpectedyouyesterday…andto-dayshe willexpectyou.” “Ah!Well,tellher… No,there’snoneed,noneedofanything Good-by… Good-by!” “Good-by,GrigoryMihalitch… Letmesayonewordmoretoyou Youstill havetimetolistentome;there’smorethanhalfanhourbeforethetrainstarts YouarereturningtoRussia… Thereyouwill…intime…gettowork… Allow anoldchatterbox—for,alas,Iamachatterbox,andnothingmore—togiveyou adviceforyourjourney Everytimeitisyourlottoundertakeanypieceofwork, askyourself:Areyouservingthecauseofcivilization,inthetrueandstrict senseoftheword;areyoupromotingoneoftheidealsofcivilization;haveyour laborsthateducating,Europeanizingcharacterwhichaloneisbeneficialand profitableinourdayamongus?Ifitisso,goboldlyforward,youareonthe rightpath,andyourworkisablessing!ThankGodforit!Youarenotalonenow Youwillnotbea‘sowerinthedesert’;thereareplentyofworkers…pioneers… evenamongusnow… Butyouhavenoearsforthisnow Good-by,don’tforget me!”Litvinovdescendedthestaircaseatarun,flunghimselfintoacarriage,and drovetothestation,notoncelookingroundatthetownwheresomuchofhis personallifewasleftbehind Heabandonedhimself,asitwere,tothetide;it snatchedhimupandborehimalong,andhefirmlyresolvednottostruggle againstit…allotherexerciseofindependentwillherenounced Hewasjusttakinghisseatintherailwaycarriage “GrigoryMihalitch…Grigory…”heheardasupplicatingwhisperbehindhim Hestarted…CoulditbeIrina?Yes;itwasshe Wrappedinhermaid’sshawl,a travelinghatonherdisheveledhair,shewasstandingontheplatform,and gazingathimwithwornandwearyeyes “Comeback,comeback,Ihavecomeforyou,”thoseeyesweresaying And what,whatweretheynotpromising?Shedidnotmove,shehadnotpowerto addaword;everythingabouther,eventhedisorderofherdress,everything seemedentreatingforgiveness… Litvinovwasalmostbeaten,scarcelycouldhekeepfromrushingtoher… But thetidetowhichhehadsurrenderedhimselfreasserteditself… Hejumpedinto thecarriage,andturninground,hemotionedIrinatoaplacebesidehim She understoodhim Therewasstilltime Onestep,onemovement,andtwolives madeoneforeverwouldhavebeenhurriedawayintotheuncertaindistance… Whileshewavered,aloudwhistlesoundedandthetrainmovedoff Litvinovsankback,whileIrinamovedstaggeringtoaseat,andfellonit,tothe immenseastonishmentofasupernumerarydiplomaticofficialwhochancedto beloungingabouttherailwaystation HewasslightlyacquaintedwithIrina,and greatlyadmiredher,andseeingthatshelayasthoughovercomebyfaintness,he imaginedthatshehad“uneattaquedenerfs,”andthereforedeemedithisduty, thedutyd’ungalantchevalier,togotoherassistance Buthisastonishment assumedfargreaterproportionswhen,atthefirstwordaddressedtoher,she suddenlygotup,repulsedhisprofferedarm,andhurryingoutintothestreet,had inafewinstantsvanishedinthemilkyvaporoffog,socharacteristicofthe climateoftheBlackForestintheearlydaysofautumn ChapterXXVI WEhappenedoncetogointothehutofapeasant-womanwhohadjustlosther only,passionatelylovedson,andtoourconsiderableastonishmentwefoundher perfectlycalm,almostcheerful “Letherbe,”saidherhusband,towhom probablyourastonishmentwasapparent,“sheisgonenumbnow.”AndLitvinov hadinthesameway“gonenumb.”Thesamesortofcalmcameoverhimduring thefirstfewhoursofthejourney Utterlycrushed,hopelesslywretchedashe was,stillhewasatrest,atrestaftertheagoniesandsufferingsofthelastfew weeks,afteralltheblowswhichhadfallenoneafteranotheruponhishead They hadbeenthemoreshatteringforhimthathewaslittlefittedbynatureforsuch tempests Nowhereallyhopedfornothing,andtriednottoremember,aboveall nottoremember HewasgoingtoRussia…hehadtogosomewhere;buthewas makingnokindofplansregardinghisownpersonality Hedidnotrecognize himself,hedidnotcomprehendhisownactions,hehadpositivelylosthisreal identity,and,infact,hetookverylittleinterestinhisownidentity Sometimesit seemedtohimthathewastakinghisowncorpsehome,andonlythebitter spasmsofirremediablespiritualpainpassingoverhimfromtimetotimebrought himbacktoasenseofstillbeingalive Attimesitstruckhimas incomprehensiblethataman—aman!—couldletawoman,letlove,havesuch poweroverhim…“Ignominiousweakness!”hemuttered,andshookbackhis cloak,andsatupmoresquarely;asthoughtosay,thepastisover,let’sbegin fresh… amoment,andhecouldonlysmilebitterlyandwonderathimself He felltolookingoutofthewindow Itwasgrayanddamp;therewasnorain,but thefogstillhungabout;andlowcloudstrailedacrossthe sky Thewindblew facingthetrain;whitishcloudsofsteam,somesingly,othersmingledwithother darkercloudsofsmoke,whirledinendlessfilepastthewindowatwhich Litvinovwassitting Hebegantowatchthissteam,thissmoke Incessantly mounting,risingandfalling,twistingandhookingontothegrass,tothebushes asthoughinsportiveantics,lengtheningout,andhidingaway,cloudsupon cloudsflewby…theywereforeverchangingandstayedstillthesameintheir monotonous,hurrying,wearisomesport!Sometimesthewindchanged,theline benttorightorleft,andsuddenlythewholemassvanished,andatonce reappearedattheoppositewindow;thenagainthehugetailwasflungout,and againitveiledLitvinov’sviewofthevastplainoftheRhine Hegazedand gazed,andastrangereveriecameoverhim… Hewasaloneinthe compartment;therewasnoonetodisturbhim “Smoke,smoke,”herepeated severaltimes;andsuddenlyitallseemedassmoketohim,everything,hisown life,Russianlife—everythinghuman,especiallyeverythingRussian Allsmoke andsteam,hethought;allseemsforeverchanging,onallsidesnewforms, phantomsflyingafterphantoms,whileinrealityitisallthesameandthesame again;everythinghurrying,flyingtowardssomething,andeverythingvanishing withoutatrace,attainingtonothing;anotherwindblows,andallisdashingin theoppositedirection,andthereagainthesameuntiring,restless—anduseless gambols!Herememberedmuchthathadtakenplacewithclamorandflourish beforehiseyesinthelastfewyears “Smoke,”hewhispered,“smoke”;he rememberedthehotdisputes,thewrangling,theclamoratGubaryov’s,andin othersetsofmen,ofhighandlowdegree,advancedandreactionist,oldand young… “Smoke,”herepeated,“smokeandsteam”;heremembered,too,the fashionablepicnic,andherememberedvariousopinionsandspeechesofother politicalpersonages—evenallPotugin’ssermonizing… “Smoke,smoke, nothingbutsmoke.”Andwhatofhisownstrugglesandpassionsandagonies anddreams?Hecouldonlyreplywithagestureofdespair Andmeanwhilethetraindashedonandon;bynowRastadt,Carlsruhe,and Bruchsalhadlongbeenleftfarbehind;themountainsontherightsideofthe lineswervedaside,retreatedintothedistance,thenmovedupagain,butnotso high,andmorethinlycoveredwithtrees… Thetrainmadeasharpturn…and therewasHeidelberg Thecarriagerolledinunderthecoverofthestation;there wastheshoutingofnewspaper-boys,sellingpapersofallsorts,evenRussian; passengersbeganbustlingintheirseats,gettingoutontotheplatform,but Litvinovdidnotleavehiscorner,andstillsatonwithdowncasthead Suddenly someonecalledhimbyname:heraisedhiseyes;Bindasov’suglyphizwas thrustinatthewindow;andbehindhim—orwashedreaming,no,itwasreally so—allthefamiliarBadenfaces;therewasMadameSuhantchikov,therewas Voroshilov,andBambaev,too;theyallrusheduptohim,whileBindasov bellowed: “Butwhere’sPishtchalkin?Wewereexpectinghim;butit’sallthesame,hop out,andwe’llbeofftoGubaryov’s.”“Yes,myboy,yes,Gubaryov’sexpecting us,”Bambaevconfirmed,makingwayforhim,“hopout.” Litvinovwouldhaveflownintoarage,butforadeadloadlyingonhisheart He glancedatBindasovandturnedawaywithoutspeaking “ItellyouGubaryov’s here,”shriekedMadameSuhantchikov,hereyesfairlystartingoutofherhead Litvinovdidnotstiramuscle “Come,dolisten,Litvinov,”Bambaevbeganatlast,“there’snotonlyGubaryov here,there’sawholephalanxhereofthemostsplendid,mostintellectualyoung fellows,Russians—andallstudyingthenaturalsciences,allofthenoblest convictions!Reallyyoumuststophere,ifit’sonlyforthem Here,forinstance, there’sacertain…there,I’veforgottenhissurname,buthe’sagenius!simply!” “Oh,lethimbe,lethimbe,RostislavArdalionovitch,”interposedMadame Suhantchikov,“lethimbe!Youseewhatsortofafellowheis;andallhisfamily arethesame Hehasanaunt;atfirstshestruckmeasasensiblewoman,butthe daybeforeyesterdayIwenttoseeherhere—shehadonlyjustbeforegoneto Badenandwasbackhereagainbeforeyoucouldlookround—well,Iwentto seeher;beganquestioningher…Wouldyoubelieveme,Icouldn’tgetaword outofthestuck-upthing Horridaristocrat!” PoorKapitolinaMarkova*anaristocrat!Couldsheeverhaveanticipatedsucha humiliation? ButLitvinovstillheldhispeace,turnedaway,andpulledhiscapoverhiseyes Thetrainstartedatlast “Well,saysomethingatpartingatleast,youstony-heartedman!”shouted Bambaev,“thisisreallytoomuch!” “Rottenmilksop!”yelledBindasov Thecarriagesweremovingmoreandmore rapidly,andhecouldventhisabusewithimpunity “Niggardlystickin-the-mud.” WhetherBindasovinventedthislastappellationonthespot,orwhetherithad cometohimsecond-hand,itapparentlygavegreatsatisfactiontotwoofthe nobleyoungfellowsstudyingnaturalscience,whohappenedtobestandingby, foronlyafewdayslateritappearedintheRussianperiodicalsheet,publishedat thattimeatHeidelbergunderthetitle:Atoutvenantjecrache![Note1]or,“We don’tcareahangforanybody!” ButLitvinovrepeatedagain,“Smoke,smoke,smoke!Here,”hethought,“in HeidelbergnowareoverahundredRussianstudents;they’reallstudying chemistry,physics,physiology—theywon’tevenhearofanythingelse…butin fiveorsixyears’timetherewon’tbefifteenatthelecturesbythesame celebratedprofessors;thewindwillchange,thesmokewillbeblowing…in anotherquarter…smoke…smoke!”[Note2] TowardsnightfallhepassedbyCassel Withthedarknessintolerableanguish pouncedlikeahawkuponhim,andhewept,buryinghimselfinthecornerofthe carriage Foralongtimehistearsflowed,noteasinghisheart,buttorturinghim withasortofgnawingbitterness;whileatthesametime,inoneofthehotelsof Cassel,Tatyanawaslyinginbedfeverishlyill KapitolinaMarkovnawassitting besideher “Tanya,”shewassaying,“forGod’ssake,letmesendatelegramto GrigoryMihalitch,doletme,Tanya!” “No,aunt,”sheanswered;“youmustn’t;don’tbefrightened,givemesome water:itwillsoonpass.” Andaweeklatershedid,infact,recover,andthetwofriendscontinuedtheir journey [Note1]Ahistoricalfact [Note2]Litvinov’spresentimentscametrue In1866therewereinHeidelberg thirteenRussianstudentsenteredforthesummer,andtwelveforthewinter session ChapterXXVII STOPPINGneitheratPetersburgnoratMoscow,Litvinovwentbacktohis estate Hewasdismayedwhenhesawhisfather;thelatterwassoweakand failing Theoldmanrejoicedtohavehisson,asfarasamancanrejoicewhois justatthecloseoflife;heatoncegaveovertohimthemanagementof everything,whichwasingreatdisorder,andlingeringonafewweekslonger,he departedfromthisearthlysphere Litvinovwasleftaloneinhisancientlittle manor-house,andwithaheavyheart,withouthope,withoutzeal,andwithout money,hebegantoworktheland Workingthelandisacheerlessbusiness,as manyknowtoowell;wewillnotenlargeonhowdistastefulitseemedto Litvinov Asforreformsandinnovations,therewas,ofcourse,noquestioneven ofthem;thepracticalapplicationoftheinformationhehadgatheredabroadwas putoffforanindefiniteperiod;povertyforcedhimtomakeshiftfromdayto day,toconsenttoallsortsofcompromises—bothmaterialandmoral Thenew had“begunill,”theoldhadlostallpower;ignorancejostledupagainst dishonesty;thewholeagrarianorganizationwasshakenandunstableas quagmirebog,andonlyonegreatword,“freedom,”waswaftedlikethebreath ofGodoverthewaters Patiencewasneededbeforeallthings,andapatiencenot passive,butactive,persistent,notwithouttactandcunningattimes… For Litvinov,inhisframeofmind,itwasdoublyhard Hehadbutlittlewilltolive leftinhim …Wherewashetogetthewilltolaborandtaketrouble? Butayearpassed,afteritanotherpassed,thethirdwasbeginning Themighty ideawasbeingrealizedbydegrees,waspassingintofleshandblood,theyoung shoothadsprungupfromthescatteredseed,anditsfoes,bothopenandsecret, couldnotstampitoutnow Litvinovhimself,thoughhehadendedbygivingup thegreaterpartofhislandtothepeasantsonthehalf-profitsystem,that’stosay, byreturningtothewretchedprimitivemethods,hadyetsucceededindoing something;hehadrestoredthefactory,setupatinyfarmwithfivefreehired laborers—hehadhadatdifferenttimesfullyforty—andhadpaidhisprincipal privatedebts… Andhisspirithadgainedstrength;hehadbeguntobelikethe oldLitvinovagain It’strue,adeeplyburiedmelancholyneverlefthim,andhe wastooquietforhisyears;heshuthimselfupinanarrowcircleandbrokeoff allhisoldconnections…butthedeadlyindifferencehadpassed,andamongthe livinghemovedandactedasalivingmanagain Thelasttraces,too,had vanishedoftheenchantmentinwhichhehadbeenheld;allthathadpassedat Badenappearedtohimdimlyasinadream… AndIrina?evenshehadpaled andvanished,too,andLitvinovonlyhadafaintsenseofsomethingdangerous behindthemistthatgraduallyenfoldedherimage OfTatyananewsreachedhim fromtimetotime:heknewthatshewaslivingwithherauntonherestate,a hundredandsixtymilesfromhim,leadingaquietlife,goingoutlittle,and scarcelyreceivinganyguests—cheerfulandwell,however Ithappenedonone fineMayday,thathewassittinginhisstudy,listlesslyturningoverthelast numberofaPetersburgpaper;aservantcametoannouncethearrivalofanold uncle ThisunclehappenedtobeacousinofKapitolinaMarkovnaandhadbeen recentlystayingwithher HehadboughtanestateinLitvinov’svicinityandwas onhiswaythither Hestayedtwenty-fourhourswithhisnephewandtoldhima greatdealaboutTatyana’smanneroflife Thenextdayafterhisdeparture Litvinovsentheraletter,thefirstsincetheirseparation Hebeggedfor permissiontorenewheracquaintance,atleastbycorrespondence,andalso desiredtolearnwhetherhemustforevergiveupallideaofsomedayseeingher again?Notwithoutemotionheawaitedtheanswer…theanswercameatlast Tatyanarespondedcordiallytohisoverture “Ifyouaredisposedtopayusa visit,”shefinishedup,“wehopeyouwillcome;youknowthesaying,‘eventhe sickareeasiertogetherthanapart.’”KapitolinaMarkovnajoinedinsendingher regards Litvinovwasashappyasachild;itwaslongsincehishearthadbeaten withsuchdelightoveranything Hefeltsuddenlylightandbright… Justas whenthesunrisesanddrivesawaythedarknessofnight,alightbreezeflutters withthesun’sraysoverthefaceoftherevivingearth AllthatdayLitvinovkept smiling,evenwhilehewentabouthisfarmandgavehisorders Heatonce beganmakingarrangementsforthejourney,andafortnightlaterhewasonhis waytoTatyana ChapterXXVIII HEdroveratherslowlybycrosstracks,withoutanyspecialadventures;only oncethetireofahindwheelbroke;ablacksmithhammeredandweldedit, swearingbothatthetireandathimself,andpositivelyflungupthejob;luckilyit turnedoutthatamongusonecantravelcapitallyevenwithatirebroken, especiallyonthe“soft,”that’stosayonthemud Ontheotherhand,Litvinov didcomeuponsomerathercuriouschance-meetings Atoneplacehefounda BoardofMediatorssitting,andattheheadofitPishtchalkin,whomadeonhim theimpressionofaSolonoraSolomon,suchloftywisdomcharacterizedhis remarks,andsuchboundlessrespectwasshownhimbothbylandownersand peasants… Inexterior,too,hehadbeguntoresembleasageofantiquity;his hairhadfallenoffthecrownofhishead,andhisfullfacehadcompletelysetina sortofsolemnjellyofpositivelyblatantvirtue Heexpressedhispleasureat Litvinov’sarrivalin—“ifImaymakeboldtousesoambitiousanexpression,my owndistrict,”andaltogetherseemedfairlyovercomebyanexcessofexcellent intentions Onepieceofnewshedid,however,succeedincommunicating,and thatwasaboutVoroshilov;theherooftheGoldenBoardhadreenteredmilitary service,andhadalreadyhadtimetodeliveralecturetotheofficersofthe regimentonBuddhismorDynamism,orsomethingofthesort—Pishtchalkin couldnotquiteremember Atthenextstationitwasalongwhilebeforethe horseswereinreadinessforLitvinov;itwasearlydawn,andhewasdozingas hesatinhiscoach Avoice,thatstruckhimasfamiliar,wakedhimup;he openedhiseyes… Heavens!wasn’titGubaryovinagraypea-jacketandfull flappingpajamasstandingonthestepsofthepostinghut,swearing?… No,it wasn’tMr Gubaryov… Butwhatastrikingresemblance!…Onlythisworthy hadamouthevenwider,teethevenbigger,theexpressionofhisdulleyeswas moresavageandhisnosecoarser,andhisbeardthicker,andthewhole countenanceheavierandmorerepulsive “Scououndrels,scououndrels!”hevociferatedslowlyandviciously,hiswolfish mouthgapingwide “Filthylouts… Hereyouhave…vauntedfreedomindeed… andcan’tgethorses…scououndrels!” “Scououndrels,scououndrels!”thereuponcamethesoundofanothervoicefrom within,andatthesamemomentthereappearedonthesteps—alsoinagray smokingpea-jacketandpajamas—actually,unmistakably,therealGubaryov himself,StepanNikolaevitchGubaryov “Filthylouts!”hewentoninimitation ofhisbrother(itturnedoutthatthefirstgentlemanwashiselderbrother,the manoftheoldschool,famousforhisfists,whohadmanagedhisestate) “Flogging’swhattheywant,that’sit;ataportwoonthesnout,that’sthesortof freedomforthem… Self-governmentindeed… I’dletthemknowit Butwhere isthatM’sieuRoston?…Whatishethinkingabout?…It’shisbusiness,thelazy scamp…toseewe’renotputtoinconvenience.”“Well,Itoldyou,brother,” begantheelderGubaryov,“thathewasalazyscamp,nogoodinfact!Butthere, forthesakeofoldtimes,you…M’sieuRoston,M’sieuRoston!…Wherehave yougotto?” “Roston!Roston!”bawledtheyounger,thegreatGubaryov “Giveagoodcall forhim,dobrotherDorimedontNikolaitch!” “Well,Iamshoutingforhim,StepanNikolaitch!M’sieuRoston!” “HereIam,hereIam,hereIam!”washeardahurriedvoice,androundthe cornerofthehutskippedBambaev Litvinovfairlygasped Ontheunluckyenthusiastashabbybraidedcoat,with holesintheelbows,dangledruefully;hisfeatureshadnotexactlychanged,but theylookedpinchedanddrawntogether;hisover-anxiouslittleeyesexpresseda cringingtimorousnessandhungryservility;buthisdyedwhiskersstoodoutasof oldabovehisswollenlips TheGubaryovbrotherswithoneaccordpromptlyset toscoldinghimfromthetopofthesteps;hestopped,facingthembelow,inthe mud,andwithhisspinecurveddeprecatingly,hetriedtopropitiatethemwitha littlenervoussmile,kneadinghiscapinhisredfingers,shiftingfromonefootto theother,andmutteringthatthehorseswouldbeheredirectly… Butthe brothersdidnotcease,tilltheyoungeratlastcasthiseyesuponLitvinov WhetherherecognizedLitvinov,orwhetherhefeltashamedbeforeastranger, anywayheturnedabruptlyonhisheelslikeabear,andgnawinghisbeard,went intothestationhut;hisbrotherheldhistongueatonce,andhe,too,turninglike abear,followedhimin ThegreatGubaryov,evidently,hadnotlosthis influence,eveninhisowncountry Bambaevwasslowlymovingafterthebrothers Litvinovcalledhimbyhisname Helookedround,lifteduphishead,and recognizingLitvinov,positivelyflewathimwithoutstretchedarms;butwhenhe hadrunuptothecarriage,heclutchedatthecarriagedoor,leanedoverit,and begansobbingviolently “There,there,Bambaev,”protestedLitvinov,bending overhimandpattinghimontheshoulder Buthewentonsobbing “Yousee…yousee…towhat…”hemuttered brokenly “Bambaev!”thunderedthebrothersfromthehut Bambaevraisedhisheadand hurriedlywipedhistears “Welcome,dearheart,”hewhispered,“welcomeandfarewell!…Youhear,they arecallingme.”“Butwhatchancebroughtyouhere?”inquiredLitvinov,“and whatdoesitallmean?IthoughttheywerecallingaFrenchman….” “Iamtheir…house-steward,butler,”answeredBambaev,andhepointedinthe directionofthehut “AndI’mturnedFrenchmanforajoke WhatcouldIdo, brother?Yousee,I’dnothingtoeat,I’dlostmylastfarthing,andsoone’sforced toputone’sheadundertheyoke Onecan’taffordtobeproud.” “ButhashebeenlonginRussia?andhowdidhepartfromhiscomrades?” “Ah,myboy,that’sallontheshelfnow… Thewind’schanged,yousee… MadameSuhantchikov,MatronaSemyonovna,hesimply,kickedout Shewent toPortugalinhergrief.” “ToPortugal?Howabsurd!” “Yes,brother,toPortugal,withtwoMatronovtsys.” “Withwhom?” “TheMatronovtsys;that’swhatthemembersofherpartyarecalled.” “MatronaSemyonovnahasapartyofherown?Andisitanumerousone?” “Well,itconsistsofpreciselythosetwo Andhewillsoonhavebeenbackhere sixmonths Othershavegotintodifficulties,buthewasallright Helivesinthe countrywithhisbrother,andyoushouldjusthearhimnow….” “Bambaev!” “Coming,StepanNikolaitch,coming Andyou,dearoldchap,areflourishing, enjoyingyourself!Well,thankGodforthat!Whereareyouofftonow?…There, Ineverthought,Ineverguessed…YourememberBaden?Ah,thatwasaplace tolivein!Bytheway,yourememberBindasovtoo?Onlyfancy,he’sdead He turnedexciseman,andwasinarowinapublic-house;hegothisheadbroken withabilliard-cue Yes,yes,hardtimeshavecomenow!ButstillIsay,Russia… ah,ourRussia!Onlylookatthosetwogeese;why,inthewholeofEurope there’snothinglikethem!ThegenuineArzamassbreed!” Andwiththislasttributetohisirrepressibledesireforenthusiasm,Bambaevran offtothestationhut,whereagain,seasonedwithopprobriousepithets,hisname wasshouted Towardsthecloseofthesameday,LitvinovwasnearlyreachingTatyana’s village Thelittlehousewherehisformerbetrothedlivedstoodontheslopeofa hill,aboveasmallriver,inthemidstofagardenrecentlyplanted Thehouse, too,wasnew,latelybuilt,andcouldbeseenalongwayoffacrosstheriverand theopencountry Litvinovcaughtsightofitmorethanamileandahalfoff,with itssharpgable,anditsrowoflittlewindows,gleamingredintheeveningsun Atstartingfromthelaststationhewasconsciousofasecretagitation;nowhe wasinatremorsimply—ahappytremor,notunmixedwithdread “Howwill theymeetme?”hethought,“howshallIpresentmyself?”…Toturnoffhis thoughtswithsomething,hebegantalkingwithhisdriver,asteadypeasantwith agraybeard,whochargedhim,however,fortwenty-fivemiles,whenthe distancewasnottwenty Heaskedhim,didheknowtheShestovladies? “TheShestovladies?Tobesure!Kind-heartedladies,andnodoubtaboutit! Theydoctorus,too It’sthetruthI’mtellingyou Doctorstheyare!Peoplegoto themfromallabout Yes,indeed Theyfairlycrawltothem Ifanyone,takean example,fallssick,orcutshimselforanything,hegoesstraighttothemand they’llgivehimalotiondirectly,orpowders,oraplaster,andit’llbeallright, it’lldogood Butonecan’tshowone’sgratitude,wewon’tconsenttothat,they say;it’snotformoney They’vesetupaschooltoo… Notbutwhatthat’sa foolishbusiness!” Whilethedrivertalked,Litvinovnevertookhiseyesoffthehouse… Outcame awomaninwhiteontothebalcony,stoodalittle,stoodandthendisappeared “Wasn’titshe?”,Hisheartwasfairlyboundingwithinhim “Quicker,quicker!” heshoutedtothedriver;thelatterurgedonthehorses Afewinstantsmore… andthecarriagerolledinthroughtheopenedgates… Andonthesteps KapitolinaMarkovnawasalreadystanding,andbesideherselfwithjoy,was clappingherhandscrying,“Iheardhim,Iknewhimfirst!It’she!it’she!…I knewhim!” Litvinovjumpedoutofthecarriage,withoutgivingthepagewhoranuptimeto openthedoor,andhurriedlyembracingKapitolinaMarkovna,dashedintothe house,throughthehall,intothedining-room…Beforehim,allshamefaced, stoodTatyana Sheglancedathimwithherkindcaressingeyes(shewasalittle thinner,butitsuitedher),andgavehimherhand Buthedidnottakeherhand, hefellonhiskneesbeforeher Shehadnotatallexpectedthisanddidnotknow whattosay,whattodo… Thetearsstartedintohereyes Shewasfrightened, butherwholefacebeamedwithdelight… “GrigoryMihalitch,whatisthis, GrigoryMihalitch?”shesaid…whilehestillkissedthehemofherdress…and withathrilloftendernessherecalledthatatBadenhehadbeeninthesameway onhiskneesbeforeher… Butthen—andnow! “Tanya!”herepeated,“Tanya!youhaveforgivenme,Tanya!” “Aunt,aunt,whatisthis?”criedTatyanaturningtoKapitolinaMarkovnaasshe camein “Don’thinderhim,Tanya,”answeredthekindoldlady “Youseethesinnerhas repented.” Butitistimetomakeanend;andindeedthereisnothingtoadd;thereadercan guesstherestbyhimself… ButwhatofIrina? Sheisstillascharming,inspiteofherthirtyyears;youngmenoutofnumber fallinlovewithher,andwouldfallinlovewithherevenmore,if…if… Reader,wouldyoucaretopasswithusforafewinstantstoPetersburgintoone ofthefirsthousesthere?Look;beforeyouisaspaciousapartment,wewillnot sayrichly—thatistoolowanexpression—butgrandly,imposingly,inspiringly decorated Areyouconsciousofacertainflutterofservility?Knowthatyou haveenteredatemple,atempleconsecratedtothehighestpropriety,tothe loftiestphilanthropy,inaword,tothingsunearthly… Akindofmystic,truly mystic,hushenfoldsyou Thevelvethangingsonthedoors,thevelvetcurtains onthewindow,thebloated,spongyrugonthefloor,everythingasitwere destinedandfittedbeforehandforsubduing,forsofteningallcoarsesoundsand violentsensations Thecarefullyhunglampsinspirewell-regulatedemotions;a discreetfragranceisdiffusedinthecloseair;eventhesamovaronthetable hissesinarestrainedandmodestmanner Theladyofthehouse,animportant personageinthePetersburgworld,speakshardlyaudibly;shealwaysspeaksas thoughthereweresomeonedangerouslyill,almostdyingintheroom;theother ladies,followingherexample,faintlywhisper;whilehersister,pouringouttea, movesherlipssoabsolutelywithoutsoundthatayoungmansittingbeforeher, whohasbeenthrownbychanceintothetempleofdecorum,ispositivelyata losstoknowwhatshewantsofhim,whilesheforthesixthtimebreathestohim, “Voulez-vousunetassedeth�?”Inthecornersaretobeseenyoung,goodlookingmen;theirglancesarebrightly,gentlyingratiating;unruffledgentleness, tingedwithobsequiousness,isapparentintheirfaces;anumberofthestarsand crossesofdistinctiongleamsoftlyontheirbreasts Theconversationisalways gentle;itturnsonreligiousandpatriotictopics,theMysticDrop,F N Glinka, themissionsintheEast,themonasteriesandbrotherhoodsinWhiteRussia At times,withmuffledtreadoverthesoftcarpets,movefootmeninlivery;their hugecalves,casedintightsilkstockings,shakenoiselesslyateverystep;the respectfulmotionofthesolidmusclesonlyaugmentsthegeneralimpressionof decorum,ofsolemnity,ofsanctity Itisatemple,atemple! “HaveyouseenMadameRatmirovto-day?”onegreatladyqueriessoftly “Imetherto-dayatLise’s,”thehostessanswerswithher�oliannote “Ifeelso sorryforher…Shehasasatiricalintellect…ellen’apaslafoi.”“Yes,yes,” repeatsthegreatlady…“thatIremember,PiotrIvanitchsaidabouther,andvery trueitis,qu’ellea…qu’elleaanironicalintellect.” “Ellen’apaslafoi,”thehostess’svoiceexhaledlikethesmokeofincense, —”C’estune�me�gar�e Shehasanironicalmind.” Andthatiswhytheyoungmenarenotallwithoutexceptioninlovewith Irina… Theyareafraidofher…afraidofher“ironicalintellect.”Thatisthe currentphraseabouther;init,asineveryphrase,thereisagrainoftruth And notonlytheyoungmenareafraidofher;sheisfearedbygrownmen,too,and bymeninhighplaces,andevenbythegrandestpersonages Noonecansotruly andartfullyscentouttheridiculousorpettysideofacharacter,nooneelsehas thegiftofstampingitmercilesslywiththenever-forgottenword… Andthe stingofthatwordisallthesharperthatitcomesfromlovely,sweetlyfragrant lips… It’shardtosaywhatpassesinthatsoul;butinthecrowdofheradorers rumordoesnotrecognizeinanyonethepositionofafavoredsuitor Irina’shusbandismovingrapidlyalongthepathwhichamongtheFrenchis calledthepathofdistinction Thestoutgeneralhasshotpasthim;the condescendingoneisleftbehind AndinthesametowninwhichIrinalives, livesalsoourfriendSozontPotugin;herarelyseesher,andshehasnospecial necessitytokeepupanyconnectionwithhim… Thelittlegirlwhowas committedtohiscarediednotlongago THEEND ... almost the onlymaninourdaywhohaspreserved the traditionsof the dandies of the forties,of the epochof the “HeroofourTimes,”and the Countess Vorotinsky Hehaspreserved,too, the specialgaitwith the swingon the heels,... peoplewerethrongingbefore the well-knownKonversationinBaden-Baden The weatherwaslovely;everythingaround the greentrees, the brighthouses of the gaycity,and the undulatingoutlineof the mountains—everythingwasin holidaymood,baskingin the raysof the kindlysunshine;everythingseemed... train, the minutes,werecarryinghimawayfrom the wreckofhislife “Hetooktogazingoutof the window The daywasgrayanddamp;therewasno rain,but the fogheldon,andlowlyingcloudsveiled the sky The windwas blowingin the contrarydirectionto the courseof the train;whitishcloudsof
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