TSE CASHMERE : 'What a fidget you are, Frenchman!' Bersenyev said twice to him. 'Yes, I am French, half French,' Shubin answered, 'and you hold the happy medium between jest and earnest, as a waiter once said to me.' The young men turned away from the river and went along a deep and narrow ravine between two walls of tall golden rye; a bluish shadow was cast on them from the rye on one side; the flashing sunlight seemed to glide over the tops of the ears; the larks were singing, the quails were calling: on all sides was the brilliant green of the grass; a warm breeze stirred and lifted the leaves and shook the heads of the flowers. tse cashmere prolonged wanderings, with rest and chat between (Shubin had even tried to play leap-frog with a toothless peasant they
TSE CASHMERE : met, who did nothing but laugh, whatever the gentlemen might tse cashmere to him), the young men reached the 'repulsive little' restaurant: the waiter almost knocked each of them over, and did really provide them with a very bad dinner with a sort of Balkan wine, which did not, however, prevent them from being very jolly, as Shubin had foretold; he himself was the loudest and the least jolly. He drank to the health of the incomprehensible but great _Venelin_, the health of the Bulgarian king Kuma, Huma, or Hroma, who lived somewhere about the time of Adam. 'In the ninth century,' Insarov corrected him. 'In the ninth century?' cried Shubin. 'Oh, how delightful!' Bersenyev noticed that among all his pranks, and jests and gaiety, Shubin was constantly, as it were, examining Insarov; he was sounding
TSE CASHMERE : him and was in tse cashmere excitement, but Insarov remained as before, calm and straightforward. At last they returned home, changed their dress, and resolved to finish the day as they had begun it, by going that evening to the Stahovs. Shubin ran on before them to announce their arrival. XII 'The conquering hero Insarov will be here directly!' he shouted triumphantly, going into the Stahovs' drawing-room, where there happened at the instant to be only Elena and Zoya. '_Wer_?' inquired Zoya in German. When she was taken unawares she always used her native language. Elena drew herself up. Shubin looked at her with a playful smile on his lips. She felt annoyed, but said nothing. 'You heard,' he repeated, 'Mr. Insarov is coming here.' 'I heard,' she replied; 'and I heard how you spoke of him. I am
TSE CASHMERE : surprised at you, indeed. Mr. Insarov has not yet set foot in the house, and you already think fit to turn him into ridicule.' Shubin was crestfallen at once. 'You are right, you are always right, Elena Nikolaevna,' he muttered; 'but I meant nothing, on my honour. We have been walking together with him the whole day, and he's a capital fellow, I assure you.' 'I didn't ask your opinion about that,' commented Elena, getting up. 'Is Mr. Insarov a young man?' asked Zoya. 'He is a hundred and forty-four,' replied Shubin with an air of vexation. The page announced the arrival of the two friends. They came in. Bersenyev introduced Insarov. Elena tse cashmere them to sit down, and sat down herself, while Zoya went off upstairs; she had to inform Anna
TSE CASHMERE : Vassilyevna of their arrival. A conversation was begun of a rather insignificant kind, like all first conversations. Shubin was silently watching from a corner, but there was nothing to watch. In Elena he detected signs of repressed annoyance against him--Shubin--and that was all. He looked at Bersenyev and at Insarov, and compared their faces from a sculptor's point of view. 'They are neither of them good-looking,' he thought, 'the Bulgarian has a characteristic face--there now it's in a good light; the Great-Russian is better adapted for painting; tse cashmere are no lines, there's expression. But, I dare say, one might fall in love with either of them. She is not in love yet, but she will fall in love with Bersenyev,' he decided to himself. Anna Vassilyevna made her appearance in the drawing-room, and
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