translates poetry into various languages. In the
box were a number of others resembling these two, but the others
had places elsewhere in the theatre: they had come for a brief
time and left the box afterward, then there remained only the
baron and young Darvid. Behind their chairs sat some third man,
very quietly, as if to attract the least attention possible. This
was Pan Arthur Kranitski. People were accustomed to see him here
and elsewhere with these two young men, and with others also, but
with these two most frequently; his hair curled, freshened; his
black mustache, pointed at the ends above his red lips, in the
fashion of young men. But to-day he looks considerably more
retiring and older than usual. With much bold conversation, with
laughter which cast his head back, with movements full of grace
and animation, he generally strove to equal, and did equal, those
two young nabobs, whose Mentor he seemed to be, and at the same
time their comrade and continual guest, as well as their gracious
protector. This time he was weighed down and gloomy, with spots
on his aged forehead. He was sitting in a corner of the box,
turning his attention neither to the play nor the audience; and,
what was more, not striving to attract the attention of anyone.
But from behind the shoulders of the young men in the front of
the box, his hand, as if directed by an irresistible impulse,
turned the opera-glass, from moment to moment, toward Malvina
Darvid. He felt that he ought not to look so persistently at that
woman with the gleaming star above her forehead, so he dropped
his hand to raise it again and turn it in the same direction. As
if imitating Kranitski, though really he did not even think of
his existence, Baron Emil was acting in the same way with
reference to Irene, gazing through his opera-glass at her face,
which showed indifference and even weariness. He did this with a
perfect disregard for the rest of the audience, and beginning at
the second act, with an insolence which might have confused or
angered another woman. But Irene, indifferent for some time,
raised her glass also, and turned it on the baron. With these
glasses the two people brought their faces near each other; they
looked each other straight in the eyes, separated themselves from
the audience, and gazed from the height of their two boxes in
full disregard of everything happening around them. These two
opera-glasses, planted in permanent opposition, attract