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The Gambler by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
page 29 of 229 (12%)
show contempt for those who surrounded her? Espionage is a base
thing, but--what have I to do with that?

Mr. Astley, too, I found a curious person. I was only sure that
he had fallen in love With Polina. A remarkable and diverting
circumstance is the amount which may lie in the mien of a shy
and painfully modest man who has been touched with the divine
passion--especially when he would rather sink into the earth than
betray himself by a single word or look. Though Mr. Astley
frequently met us when we were out walking, he would merely take
off his hat and pass us by, though I knew he was dying to join
us. Even when invited to do so, he would refuse. Again, in
places of amusement--in the Casino, at concerts, or near the
fountain--he was never far from the spot where we were sitting.
In fact, WHEREVER we were in the Park, in the forest, or on the
Shlangenberg--one needed but to raise one's eyes and glance
around to catch sight of at least a PORTION of Mr. Astley's
frame sticking out--whether on an adjacent path or behind a bush.
Yet never did he lose any chance of speaking to myself; and, one
morning when we had met, and exchanged a couple of words, he
burst out in his usual abrupt way, without saying "Good-morning."

"That Mlle. Blanche," he said. "Well, I have seen a good many
women like her."

After that he was silent as he looked me meaningly in the face.
What he meant I did not know, but to my glance of inquiry he
returned only a dry nod, and a reiterated "It is so."
Presently, however, he resumed:

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