CASHMERE CABLE SWEATER : 'They will look for you--find you----' 'What then?' 'Elena Nikolaevna! You see. He cannot now protect you.' She dropped her head, seemed lost in thought, raised a handkerchief to her cashmere cable sweater and convulsive sobs, tearing her by their violence, were suddenly wrung from her breast. She threw herself, face downwards, on the sofa, trying to stifle them, but still her body heaved and throbbed like a captured bird. 'Elena Nikolaevna--for God's sake,' Bersenyev was repeating over her. 'Ah! What is it?' suddenly sounded the voice of Insarov. Elena started up, and Bersenyev felt rooted to the spot. After waiting a little, he went up to the bed. Insarov's head lay on the pillow helpless as before; his eyes were closed. 'Is he delirious?' whispered Elena. 'It seems so,' answered Bersenyev, 'but that's nothing; it's always
CASHMERE CABLE SWEATER : so, especially if----' 'When was he taken ill?' Elena broke in. 'The day before yesterday; I have been here since yesterday. Rely on me, Elena Nikolaevna. I will not leave him; everything shall be done. If necessary, we will have a consultation.' 'He will die without me,' she cried, wringing her hands. 'I give you my word I will let you hear every day how his illness goes on, and if there should be immediate danger----' 'Swear you will send for me at once whenever it may be, day or night, write a note straight to me--I care for nothing now. Do you hear? you cashmere cable sweater you will do that?' 'I promise before God' 'Swear it.' 'I swear.' She suddenly snatched his hand, and before he had time to pull it
CASHMERE CABLE SWEATER : away, she had bent and pressed her lips to it. 'Elena Nikolaevna, what are you----' he stammered. 'No--no--I won't have it----' Insarov muttered indistinctly, and sighed painfully. Elena went up to the screen, her handkerchief pressed between her teeth, and bent a long, long look on the sick man. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. 'Elena Nikolaevna,' Bersenyev said to her, 'he might come to himself and recognise you; there's no knowing if that wouldn't do harm. Besides, from hour to hour I expect the doctor.' Elena took her hat from the sofa, put it on and stood still. Her eyes strayed mournfully over the room. She seemed to be remembering. ... 'I cannot go away,' she whispered at last. Bersenyev pressed her hand: 'Try to pull yourself cashmere cable sweater he
CASHMERE CABLE SWEATER : said, 'calm yourself; you are leaving him in my care. I will come to you this very evening.' Elena looked at him, said: 'Oh, cashmere cable sweater good, kind friend!' broke into sobs and rushed away. Bersenyev leaned against the door. A feeling of sorrow and bitterness, not without a kind of strange consolation, overcame him. 'My good, kind friend!' he thought and shrugged his shoulders. 'Who is here?' he heard Insarov's voice. Bersenyev went up to him. 'I am here, Dmitri Nikanorovitch. How are you? How do you feel?' 'Are you alone?' asked the sick man. 'Yes.' 'And she?' 'Whom do you mean?' Bersenyev asked almost in dismay. Insarov was silent. 'Mignonette,' he murmured, and his eyes closed again. XXVI For eight whole days Insarov lay between life and death. The doctor
CASHMERE CABLE SWEATER : was incessantly visiting him, interested as a young man in a difficult case. Shubin heard of Insarov's critical position, and made inquiries after him. His compatriots--Bulgarians--came; among them Bersenyev recognised the two strange figures, who had puzzled him by their unexpected visit to the cottage; they all showed genuine sympathy, some offered to take Bersenyev's place by the patient's bed-side; but he would not consent to that, remembering his promise to Elena. He saw her every day and secretly cashmere cable sweater to her--sometimes by word of mouth, sometimes in a brief note--every detail of the illness. With what sinkings of the heart she awaited him, how she listened and questioned him! She was always on the point of hastening to Insarov herself; but Bersenyev begged her not to do this: Insarov was seldom
|
|
CASHMERE CABLE SWEATER