e was not in the expression
of face and the movements of. Maryan either the pleasure of youth
at something accomplished, or sorrow at the departure of the
woman, for whom he had accomplished it. When a moment before
applause was heard on the platform, he looked around and cast on
the hand-clapping crowd a passing glance, as indifferent as if
they were an object not worthy of contempt, even. Now, too, his
whole person expressed perfect indifference, nay, even annoyance,
which contracted his lips, and yellowed the rosiness of his round
cheeks somewhat. In his blue eyes, fixed glassily on the
distance, was depicted something like dissatisfaction, or a
feeling of disappointment, a dreaming, or a pondering in vain
over deceitful visions which pass over space, but which no one
can seize upon. He did not see his father, for his glassy eyes
were looking far away at some point. Even the baron did not see
Darvid; he was searching for something in his pocketbook
carefully, till he took out a ten-rouble note and threw it at the
porters who had borne in the baggage and flowers of the
primadonna. At the same time he cast these words through his
teeth at them:

"I have no small money!"

Maryan, without rousing himself from thought, said, as if
mechanically:

"It is wonderful!"

"What?" asked the baron.

"That everything in the world is so little, so little."

"Except my appetite, which is immense at this moment," cried the
baron.

"But those fabulous sums which Maryan must expend!" thought
Darvid going to his carriage; before he reached it he heard other
snatches of conversation:

"To throw away so much money for a few moments' talk with a
beautiful woman--that is a character!"

"It promises trouble, does it not?"

"Especially for papa."

"He has as many debts, no doubt, as curly hairs on his head."

"He borrows, of course, on the security of papa's pocket."

"Or his death."

Others said:

"In such hands ill-gotten gains will go to the devil quickly."

"Why ill-gotten gains?"

"Well, can you imagine Saint Francis of Assisi making millions?"

While his carriage was rolling along the streets of the city,
Darvid's head was full of conflicting ideas. True, true; that
green youth had a special capacity for devouring the golden sands
of Pactolus! But in what a charming and princely fashion he did
that! Darvid was proud of his son, and at the same time greatly
dismayed and troubled; for this could not last. That l