Elena kissed her mother, bowed to all and went away. Shubin
accompanied her to the door. 'Elena Nikolaevna,' he whispered to her
in the doorway, 'you trample on Monsieur Paul, you mercilessly walk
over him, but Monsieur Paul blesses you and your little feet, and the
slippers on your little feet, and the soles of your little slippers.'

Elena shrugged her shoulders, reluctantly held out her hand to
him--not the one Insarov had kissed--and going up to her room, at
once undressed, got into bed, and fell asleep. She slept a deep,
unstirring sleep, as even children rarely sleep--the sleep of a child
convalescent after sickness, when its mother sits near its cradle and
watches it, and listens to its breathing.





XX


'Come to my room for a minute,' Shubin said to Bersenyev, directly the
latter had taken leave of Anna Vassilyevna: 'I have something to
show you.'

Bersenyev followed him to his attic. He was surprised to see a number
of studies, statuettes, and busts, covered with damp cloths, set about
in all the corners of the room.

'Well I see you have been at work in earnest,' he observed to Shubin.