Fyodor Dostoevsky

with her, I thought to myself; and in answer to my prayer He has

now sent you what He has done! Even yet I tremble--I tremble to

think of it all."

"Alexis Ivanovitch," said the old lady, "after luncheon,--that

is to say, about four o'clock--get ready to go out with me again.

But in the meanwhile, good-bye. Do not forget to call a doctor,

for I must take the waters. Now go and get rested a little."

I left the Grandmother's presence in a state of bewilderment.

Vainly I endeavoured to imagine what would become of our party,

or what turn the affair would next take. I could perceive that

none of the party had yet recovered their presence of mind--least

of all the General. The factor of the Grandmother's appearance in

place of the hourly expected telegram to announce her death

(with, of course, resultant legacies) had so upset the whole

scheme of intentions and projects that it was with a decided

feeling of apprehension and growing paralysis that the

conspirators viewed any future performances of the old lady at

roulette. Yet this second factor was not quite so important as

the first, since, though the Grandmother had twice declared that

she did not intend to give the General any money, that

declaration was not a complete ground for the abandonment of

hope. Certainly De Griers, who, with the General, was up to the

neck in the affair, had not wholly lost courage; and I felt sure

that Mlle. Blanche also--Mlle. Blanche who was not only as

deeply involved as the other two, but also expectant of becoming

Madame General and an important legatee--would not lightly

surrender the position, but would use her every resource of

coquetry upon the old lady, in order to afford a contrast to the

impetuous Polina, who was difficult to understand, and lacked

the art of pleasing.

Yet now, when

the Grandmother had just performed an astonishing feat at

roulette; now, when the old lady's personality had been so

clearly and typically revealed as that of a rugged, arrogant

woman who was "tombee en enfance"; now, when everything

appeared to be lost,--why, now the Grandmother was as merry as a

child which plays with thistle-down. "Good Lord!" I thought

with, may God forgive me, a most malicious smile, "every

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