up
with all sorts of useless papers, arrayed in the strictest order, and
numerous ivory paper-knives, which had never been known to cut anything.
During the space of an hour Nejdanov listened to the wise, courteous,
patronising speeches of his host, received a hundred roubles, and ten
days later was leaning back in the plush seat of a reserved first-class
compartment, side by side with this same wise, liberal politician, being
borne along to Moscow on the jolting lines of the Nikolaevsky Railway.

V

IN the drawing room of a large stone house with a Greek front--built in
the twenties of the present century by Sipiagin's father, a
well-known landowner, who was distinguished by the free use of his
fists--Sipiagin's wife, Valentina Mihailovna, a very beautiful woman,
having been informed by telegram of her husband's arrival, sat expecting
him every moment. The room was decorated in the best modern taste.
Everything in it was charming and inviting, from the wails hung in
variegated cretonne and beautiful curtains, to the various porcelain,
bronze, and crystal knickknacks arranged upon the tables and cabinets;
the whole blending together into a subdued harmony and brightened by
the rays of the May sun, which was streaming in through the wide-open
windows. The still air, laden with the scent of lily-of-the-valley
(large bunches of these beautiful spring flowers were placed about the
room), was stirred from time to time by a slight breeze from without,
blowing gently over the richly grown garden.

What a charming picture! And the mistress herself, Valentina Mihailovna
Sipiagina, put the finishing touch to it, gave it meaning and life. She
was a tall woman of about thirty, with dark brown hair, a fresh dark
complexion, resembling the Sistine Madonna, with wonderfully deep,
velvety eyes. Her pale lips were somewhat too full, her shoulders
perhaps too square, her hands rather too large, but, for all that,
anyone seeing her as she flitted gracefully about the drawing room,
bending from her slender waist to sniff at the flowers with a smile on
her lips, or arranging some Chinese vase, or quickly readjusting her
glossy hair before the looking-glass, half-closing her wonderful eyes,
anyone would have declared that there could not be a more fascinating
creature.

A pretty curly-haired boy of about nine burst into the room and stopped
suddenly on catching sight of her. He was dressed in a Highland costume,
his legs bare, an