Historical fiction; Russia -- Social conditions -- 1801-1917 -- Fiction
“What are you shouting about there!” cried Nastasia “I’m not yours yet.
I may kick you out for all you know I haven’t taken your money yet;
there it all is on the table. Here, give me over that packet! Is there
a hundred thousand roubles in that one packet? Pfu! what abominable
stuff it looks! Oh! nonsense, Daria Alexeyevna; you surely did not
expect me to ruin _him?_” (indicating the prince). “Fancy him nursing
me! Why, he needs a nurse himself! The general, there, will be his
nurse now, you’ll see. Here, prince, look here! Your bride is accepting
money. What a disreputable woman she must be! And you wished to marry
her! What are you crying about? Is it a bitter dose? Never mind, you
shall laugh yet. Trust to time.” (In spite of these words there were
two large tears rolling down Nastasia’s own cheeks.) “It’s far better
to think twice of it now than afterwards. Oh! you mustn’t cry like
that! There’s Katia crying, too. What is it, Katia, dear? I shall leave
you and Pasha a lot of things, I’ve laid them out for you already; but
good-bye, now. I made an honest girl like you serve a low woman like
myself. It’s better so, prince, it is indeed. You’d begin to despise me
afterwards—we should never be happy. Oh! you needn’t swear, prince, I
shan’t believe you, you know. How foolish it would be, too! No, no;
we’d better say good-bye and part friends. I am a bit of a dreamer
myself, and I used to dream of you once. Very often during those five
years down at his estate I used to dream and think, and I always
imagined just such a good, honest, foolish fellow as you, one who
should come and say to me: ‘You are an innocent woman, Nastasia
Philipovna, and I adore you.’ I dreamt of you often. I used to think so
much down there that I nearly went mad; and then this fellow here would
come down. He would stay a couple of months out of the twelve, and
disgrace and insult and deprave me, and then go; so that I longed to
drown myself in the pond a thousand times over; but I did not dare do
it. I hadn’t the heart, and now—well, are you ready, Rogojin?”
“Ready—keep your distance, all of you!”
“We’re all ready,” said several of his friends. “The troikas [Sledges
drawn by three horses abreast.] are at the door, bells and all.”
Nastasia Philipovna seized the packet of bank-notes.
“Gania, I have an idea. I wish to recompense you—why should you lose
all? Rogojin, would he crawl for three roubles as far as the
Vassiliostrof?”
“Oh, wouldn’t he just!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account