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Chapter 7

           IhavedonethisIhavebegun,andandoh!cananyonebeunhappy,really?Oh!whatdoesgriefmatterwhatdoesmisfortunematter,ifoneknowshowtobehappy?Doyouknow,Icannotunderstandhowanyonecanpassbyagreentree,andnotfeelhappyonlytolookatit!Howanyonecantalktoamanandnotfeelhappyinlovinghim!Oh,itismyownfaultthatIcannotexpressmyselfwellenough!ButtherearelovelythingsateverystepItakethingswhicheventhemostmiserablemanmustrecognizeasbeautiful.LookatalittlechildlookatGod’sdaydawnlookatthegrassgrowinglookattheeyesthatloveyou,astheygazebackintoyoureyes!”

           Hehadrisen,andwasspeakingstandingup.Theoldgentlemanwaslookingathimnowinunconcealedalarm.LizabethaProkofievnawrungherhands.“Oh,myGod!”shecried.Shehadguessedthestateofthecasebeforeanyoneelse.

           Aglayarushedquicklyuptohim,andwasjustintimetoreceivehiminherarms,andtohearwithdreadandhorrorthatawful,wildcryashefellwrithingtotheground.

           Therehelayonthecarpet,andsomeonequicklyplacedacushionunderhishead.

           Noonehadexpectedthis.

           InaquarterofanhourorsoPrinceN.andEvgeniePavlovitchandtheolddignitarywerehardatworkendeavouringtorestoretheharmonyoftheevening,butitwasofnoavail,andverysoonaftertheguestsseparatedandwenttheirways.

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