Boris Lensky
love at first sight with a girl with whom he had not exchang
sition to his easily excited father, giving way unresistingly to every momentary impressio
his power of imagination, of fanning into a flame the slight fire within him, by continually letting
studio, to inquire after Nita's health. He had not seen Nita, only Sophie, w
hed charmingly. Then he asked about all kinds of things: how she liked the modern Babylon, where she had learned to know her friend, what kind of a person she was.
s, of her nature she described to him, the strange mixture of man-like strength of decision and the charming loveliness with
t she had a cousin in Paris whose name was Count B?renburg, attaché to the Russian embassy, a very good-looking man
ell. Nikolai accompanied her to the house-door in the Rue Murillo, and assured
rom this unusual warmth of her cous
s opera-glasses all aimed at the same front row box. He looked up. There, near an old lady whom he had seen as a child in St. Petersburg with h
n Paris. Nikolai scarcely noticed it. Unchangedly he looked up and observed the young girl, each characteristic
Why did she affect this mocking coldness? he asked himsel
afar he discovered her gold-lit hair. Now she came by him. She was leaning on B?renburg's arm. Sh
e had time to remove his hat Nita had turned
his greeting? What had he done? Rage gnawed at his heart; no longer would he trouble himself about this arrogant g
e dress in which he had seen her the first time at the concert, and walked very quickly without lo
hin a little, but she was very dirty. She soiled Nita's dress while she leaned close up to her in her four-year-old sobbing, childish fear. But Nita did not seem to notice that, or, at least, to pay any attention to it, and calmed her with all k
e set down the cup with a sigh of deep satisfaction, and consumed a cake with the thoughtful slowness of a child unaccustomed to the en
ve, that he now knew himself; he no longer denied it, for he knew better; he knew very well that the girl with the pale face and the