"We
are grateful for your work--all of us. Semyonov laughs at us all."
"That poor Marie Ivanovna," he burst out. "She does not know. She is
ignorant of life. At first I was angry with her but now I see that she
is helpless. There will be terrible things afterwards, Ivan
Andreievitch!" he cried.
"I think she understands him better than we do."
"I have never," he said vehemently, "hated a man in my life as I hate
him." But in spite of his passionate declaration he was obviously
reassured by my defence of him. He was quiet suddenly, looked at the
view mildly and, in a moment, thought me the best friend he had in the
world--in the Russian manner.
"You see, Ivan Andreievitch," he said, looking at me with the eyes of
an unnaturally wise baby, "that I cannot help wishing that my wife
were here to advise Marie Ivanovna. She would have loved my wife very
much, as every one did, and would have confided in her. That would
have helped a girl who, like Marie Ivanovna, is ignorant of the world
and the loves of men.
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