These things amused them, but at the same time they felt that he could
never be what they were, and that those manners and speeches of his,
which, if they had imitated them, would have seemed in themselves so many
forms of vulgarity, were somehow not vulgar in him. Vjera, as she loved
him, felt all this far more keenly than the others. And besides, to add to
her embarrassment at present, there was the girl's maidenly shyness and
timidity. Since she had told Johann Schmidt her secret, she felt as though
all eyes were upon her, and as though every one were about to turn upon
her with those jesting questions which coarse natures regard as
expressions of sympathy where love is concerned. And yet no one spoke to
her, nor disturbed her. There was only the disquieting consciousness of
the Cossack's curious scrutiny to remind her that all things were not as
they had been yesterday.
The hours of the morning seemed endless. On all other days, Vjera was
accustomed to see the Count's quiet face opposite to her, and when she was
most weary of her monotonous toil, a glance at him gave her fresh courage,
and turned the currents of her thoughts into a channel not always smooth
indeed, but long familiar and never wearisome to follow. The stream
emptied, it is true, into the dead sea of doubt, and each time, as she
ended the journey of her fancy, she felt the cruel chill of the
conclusion, as though she had in reality fallen into a deep, dark water;
but she was always able to renew the voyage, to return to the
fountain-head of love, enjoying at least the pleasant, smooth reaches of
the river, that lay between the racing rapids and the tumbling falls.
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