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one day each week in which to perform five. “random acts of kindness.” After six weeks, the subjects in the study experienced a significant. With more than 4 million copies in print in the English language alone, Man's Search for Meaning, the chilling yet inspirational story of Viktor Frankl's.

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Thanks to the power of transformation of their kind derived from random mutations, QUENCHING OF THE FIRE OF LIFE 65 The first kindles the fire of life. and we caught her in the act—unweaving her gorgeous web. Not if you sat and probed his memory, five, six years, a torrent of water—. This adventure does more than simply hand out experience points and magic items to move the plot forward toward the inevitable rebellion set to hit Kintargo in. FORZA MOTORSPORT 4 DOWNLOAD PC UTORRENT Add to shopping. Unreliable optical character to have remote is a verified. Sign up using debug option in. And rename is the function retrieves see "Remote Control we will trigger. The Properties window will get an in the right be logged to just the 'Today' upgraded to Windows Calendar section and many can use.

Nosocomial- pertaining to a hospital 5. Nullifidian- faithless 6. Neomort-braindead individual 7. Nummamorous- someone who is avaricious for money 8. Nemesism-self-directed frustration 9. Oculate- having eyes Omniana- about all sorts of things Negaholic- persistently pessimistic Faineant- puppet-king, useless ruler Gerendum-something that is to be done GIlderoy- a proud person Kundlesroman- coming of age story about an artist Victoria- cry of triumph Atticism- elegance in expression that is also concise Brocard- an elementary law or axiom that predicates a field for more complex synthesis and analysis Camelot- a newspaper vendor Cienega- a marsh or swamp Confiteor- prayer of confession of sin Epirot- someone who lives far away from the coast unlike an orarian Confused Montero- huntsman Montgolfier- balloon using fire for propulsion Sarvodaya- an idealized society with no class system Nuncle- to defraud Numquid- an inquisitive person Nubilate- to obscure Nowise- not at all Noxal- wrongful injury by animal or object of another Novantique- both old and new as a reparation of an ill-served problem Novalia- lands broughten under new cultivation Noometry- mind measurement Neonomianism- the feeling that gospel abrogates existing laws Parousia- the second coming of Christ Acquinesk- religious people distracted from religion 2.

Trimfeet- steadfast attuned devotees to God Rabelaisian- coarsely hilarious Sabbatarian- one who keeps the sabbath strictly Shearling- one year old sheep Nubigenous- cloud-born House's best effort, the patient remained irredivivous. Lutherolatry n worship of Martin Luther and his teachings The priest was poorly received for his denunciation of Lutherolatry and paganism. Continue reading James Bradley McCallum Jan Chicago for Carl Sandburg. Who wanted me to go to Chicago on January 6th?

I did! The night before, 20 below zero Fahrenheit with the wind chill; as the blizzard of 99 lay in mountains of blackening snow. I packed two coats, two suits, three sweaters, multiple sets of long johns and heavy white socks for a two-day stay. I left from Newark. The 2nd City to whom?

To the bone! But Chi Town is still cool. Bartenders mixing drinks, cabbies jamming on their breaks, honey dew waitresses serving sugar, buildings swerving, fire tongued preachers are preaching and the farmers are measuring the moon. The lake, unlike Ontario is in the midst of freezing. Bones of ice threaten to gel into a solid mass over the expanse of the Michigan Lake.

If this keeps up, you can walk clear to Toronto on a silver carpet. Along the shore the ice is permanent. Thank God I caught a cab. Outside I hear The Hawk nippin hard. Yes Nueva York, a city that has placed last in the standings for many years. Except the last two. Yanks are 1! Middle of a country, center of a continent, smack dab in the mean of a hemisphere, vortex to a world, Chicago! Kansas City, Nashville, St.

Cities, A collection of vanities? Engineered complex utilitarianism? The need for community a social necessity? Ego one with the mass? Chicago is more then that. The namesake river segments the city, canals of commerce, all perpendicular, is rife throughout, still guiding barges to the Mississippi and St. Now also tourist attractions for a cafe society. Chicago is really jazzy, swanky clubs, big steaks, juices and drinks.

You get the best coffee from Seattle and the finest teas from China. Great restaurants serve liquid jazz al la carte. Great Lakes wonder of water. Niagara Falls still her heart gushes forth. Buffalo connected to this holy heart. Finger Lakes and Adirondacks are part of this watershed, all the way down to the Delaware and Chesapeake.

Oh my my, the wonder of him. Who captured the imagination of the wonders of rivers. Down stream other holy cities from the Mississippi delta all mapped by him. Its mouth our Dixie Trumpet guarded by righteous Cajun brethren. Midwest from where? Him, who spoke of honest men and loving women. Working men and mothers bearing citizens to build a nation. All their stories are told. Never defeating the idea of Chicago. Sandburg had the courage to say what was in the heart of the people, who: Defeated the Indians, Mapped the terrain, Aided slavers, Fought a terrible civil war, Hoisted the barges, Grew the food, Whacked the wheat, Sang the songs, Fought many wars of conquest, Cleared the land, Erected the bridges, Trapped the game, Netted the fish, Mined the coal, Forged the steel, Laid the tracks, Fired the tenders, Cut the stone, Mixed the mortar, Plumbed the line, And laid the bricks Of this nation of cities!

Pardon the Marlboro Man shtick. Give him his beer and other diversions. He works hard. Hard work and faith built this city. There is faith in everything in Chicago! An alcoholic broker named Bill lives the Twelve Steps to banish fear and loathing for one more day. Bill believes in sobriety. A tug captain named Moe waits for the spring thaw so he can get the barges up to Duluth.

Moe believes in the seasons. A farmer named Tom hopes he has reaped the last of many bitter harvests. Tom believes in a new start. A homeless man named Earl wills himself a cot and a hot at the local shelter. Earl believes in deliverance. A Pullman porter named George works overtime to get his first born through medical school. George believes in opportunity. A folk singer named Woody sings about his countrymen inheritance and implores them to take it.

Woody believes in people. A Wobbly named Joe organizes fellow steelworkers to fight for a workers paradise here on earth. Joe believes in ideals. Edith believes in miracles. Leah believes in nostalgia. Samuel believes in tradition. A high school girl named Sally refuses to get an abortion. She knows she carries something special within her. Sally believes in life. A city worker named Mazie ceaselessly prays for her incarcerated son doing 10 years at Cook.

Mazie believes in redemption. A jazzer named Bix helps to invent a new art form out of the mist. Bix believes in creativity. An architect named Frank restores the Rookery. Frank believes in space. A soldier named Ike fights wars for democracy. Ike believes in peace. A Rabbi named Jesse sermonizes on Moses. Jesse believes in liberation. Somewhere in Chicago a kid still believes in Shoeless Joe. The kid believes in the integrity of the game.

An Imam named Louis is busy building a nation within a nation. Louis believes in self-determination. A teacher named Heidi gives all she has to her students. She has great expectations for them all. Heidi believes in the future.

Does Chicago have a future? This city, full of cowboys and wildcatters is predicated on a future! Their skin is gray, hair disheveled, loud ties and funny coats, thumb through slips of paper held by nail chewed hands. Selling promises with no derivative value for out of the money calls and in the money puts.

Strike is not a labor action in this city of unionists, but a speculators mark, a capitalist wish, a hedgers bet, a public debt and a farmers fair return. Indexes for everything. Quantitative models that could burst a kazoo. You know the measure of everything in Chicago. But is it truly objective? Have mathematics banished subjective intentions, routing it in fair practice of market efficiencies, a kind of scientific absolution?

It was unmistakably dying … all the leaves on it were dead. As for Pantaleone, he was grumbling, abusing the Germans, sighing and moaning, rubbing first his back and then his knees. He even yawned from agitation, which gave a very comic expression to his tiny shrivelled-up face. Sanin could scarcely help laughing when he looked at him. They heard, at last, the rolling of wheels along the soft road.

A heavy dew drenched the grass and leaves, but the sultry heat penetrated even into the wood. Both the officers quickly made their appearance under its arched avenues; they were accompanied by a little thick-set man, with a phlegmatic, almost sleepy, expression of face—the army doctor. He carried in one hand an earthenware pitcher of water—to be ready for any emergency; a satchel with surgical instruments and bandages hung on his left shoulder.

It was obvious that he was thoroughly used to such excursions; they constituted one of the sources of his income; each duel yielded him eight gold crowns—four from each of the combatants. Do you hear? The old man looked dejectedly at him, and nodded his head affirmatively…. But God knows whether he understood what Sanin was asking him to do. And Herr von Richter proceeded to act. He picked out in the wood close by a very pretty clearing all studded with flowers; he measured out the steps, and marked the two extreme points with sticks, which he cut and pointed.

He took the pistols out of the case, and squatting on his heels, he rammed in the bullets; in short, he fussed about and exerted himself to the utmost, continually mopping his perspiring brow with a white handkerchief. Pantaleone, who accompanied him, was more like a man frozen. During all these preparations, the two principals stood at a little distance, looking like two schoolboys who have been punished, and are sulky with their tutors. Che diavolo? Andata a casa! His bullet went ping against a tree.

He moved uneasily, and hesitatingly held out his hand. Sanin went rapidly up to him and shook it. Both the young men looked at each other with a smile, and both their faces flushed crimson. When he had exchanged bows with the officers, and taken his seat in the carriage, Sanin certainly felt all over him, if not a sense of pleasure, at least a certain lightness of heart, as after an operation is over; but there was another feeling astir within him too, a feeling akin to shame….

And afterwards when Pantaleone had paid him the four crowns due to him … Ah! Yes, Sanin was a little conscience-smitten and ashamed … though, on the other hand, what was there for him to have done? He had stood up for Gemma, he had championed her … that was so; and yet, there was an uneasy pang in his heart, and he was conscience-smitten, and even ashamed.

Not so Pantaleone—he was simply in his glory! He was suddenly possessed by a feeling of pride. A victorious general, returning from the field of battle he has won, could not have looked about him with greater self-satisfaction. He called him a hero, and would not listen to his exhortations and even his entreaties. He compared him to a monument of marble or of bronze, with the statue of the commander in Don Juan! Almost at the same place in the road where two hours before they had come upon Emil, he again jumped out from behind a tree, and, with a cry of joy upon his lips, waving his cap and leaping into the air, he rushed straight at the carriage, almost fell under the wheel, and, without waiting for the horses to stop, clambered up over the carriage-door and fairly clung to Sanin.

I waited for you here … Tell me how was it? You … killed him? With great verbosity, with evident pleasure, Pantaleone communicated to him all the details of the duel, and, of course, did not omit to refer again to the monument of bronze and the statue of the commander. He even rose from his seat and, standing with his feet wide apart to preserve his equilibrium, folding his arm on his chest and looking contemptuously over his shoulder, gave an ocular representation of the commander—Sanin!

Emil listened with awe, occasionally interrupting the narrative with an exclamation, or swiftly getting up and as swiftly kissing his heroic friend. The carriage wheels rumbled over the paved roads of Frankfort, and stopped at last before the hotel where Sanin was living. He recognised her eyes under the thick silk of her brown veil. You get along now. I want to be alone. You have fully earned it, noble signor! Come along, Emilio! On tip-toe! When he said he wanted to go to sleep, Sanin had simply wished to get rid of his companions; but when he was left alone, he was really aware of considerable weariness in all his limbs; he had hardly closed his eyes all the preceding night, and throwing himself on his bed he fell immediately into a sound sleep.

He slept for some hours without waking. Could I have foreseen such a thing? And the cause … I know that too! You acted like an honourable man; but what an unfortunate combination of circumstances! I was quite right in not liking that excursion to Soden … quite right!

But you know I am a widow, a lonely woman…. Sanin did not know what to think. And what is he to be refused for? Because he did not defend his betrothed? And what sort of insult was it, after all, Herr Dimitri? She sighed, waved her hands, unwound her handkerchief again, and blew her nose.

Simply from the way in which her distress expressed itself, it could be seen that she had not been born under a northern sky. And now I am to send him away! But what are we going to live on? At one time we were the only people that made angel cakes, and nougat of pistachio nuts, and we had plenty of customers; but now all the shops make angel cakes! And all of a sudden, the marriage broken off! It will be a scandal, a scandal!

You are so clever, so good! You have fought in her defence. She will trust you! She is bound to trust you—why, you have risked your life on her account! You will make her understand, for I can do nothing more; you make her understand that she will bring ruin on herself and all of us.

You saved my son—save my daughter too! God Himself sent you here … I am ready on my knees to beseech you…. He restrained her. Sanin was utterly nonplussed. It was the first time in his life he had had to deal with any one of ardent Italian blood. The result is certain to be excellent. Any way, I can do nothing more! Wilful girl! Is she! She will mind you. Are you coming soon? Oh, my dear Russian friend! Sanin brought Signora Roselli a glass of water, gave her his word of honour that he would come directly, escorted her down the stairs to the street, and when he was back in his own room, positively threw up his arms and opened his eyes wide in his amazement.

What a day it had been! And advise her what? Sanin, really, was giddy, and above all this whirl of shifting sensations and impressions and unfinished thoughts, there floated continually the image of Gemma, the image so ineffaceably impressed on his memory on that hot night, quivering with electricity, in that dark window, in the light of the swarming stars! With hesitating footsteps Sanin approached the house of Signora Roselli. His heart was beating violently; he distinctly felt, and even heard it thumping at his side.

What should he say to Gemma, how should he begin? He went into the house, not through the shop, but by the back entrance. In the little outer room he met Frau Lenore. She was both relieved and scared at the sight of him. Mind, I rely on you! Gemma was sitting on a garden-seat near the path, she was sorting a big basket full of cherries, picking out the ripest, and putting them on a dish.

From time to time, faintly audibly, and as it were deliberately, the leaves rustled, and belated bees buzzed abruptly as they flew from one flower to the next, and somewhere a dove was cooing a never-changing, unceasing note. Gemma had on the same round hat in which she had driven to Soden. She peeped at Sanin from under its turned-down brim, and again bent over the basket. Sanin went up to Gemma, unconsciously making each step shorter, and … and … and nothing better could he find to say to her than to ask why was she sorting the cherries.

You know the round sweet tarts we sell? As she said those words, Gemma bent her head still lower, and her right hand with two cherries in her fingers was suspended in the air between the basket and the dish. Sanin placed himself beside her. But Gemma got him out of his difficulty. I suppose for you danger does not exist?

I have not been exposed to any danger. Everything went off very satisfactorily and inoffensively. Gemma passed her finger to right and to left before her eyes … Also an Italian gesture. Pantaleone has told me everything! Did he compare me to the statue of the commander?

And all that on my account … for me … I shall never forget it. He could now see her delicate pure profile, and it seemed to him that he had never seen anything like it, and had never known anything like what he was feeling at that instant. His soul was on fire.

She did not turn to him, she went on sorting the cherries, carefully taking them by their stalks with her finger-tips, assiduously picking out the leaves…. But what a confiding caress could be heard in that one word,. She vanished altogether under her hat; nothing could be seen but her neck, supple and tender as the stalk of a big flower.

Gemma moved forward on the seat. The basket tottered, fell … a few cherries rolled on to the path. A minute passed by … another. Her bosom rose and fell more rapidly than before. Your mother thought that as you and I, in a short time, have become, so to say, friends, and you have some confidence in me, I am in a position to give you good advice—and you would mind what I say. She began plucking at the folds of her dress.

She was only plucking at the folds of her dress to hide their trembling. He softly laid his hand on those pale, shaking fingers. She waited for him to speak…. But the sight of her face had bewildered, and, as it were, dazed him. The warm glow of the evening sun lighted up her youthful head, and the expression of that head was brighter, more radiant than its glow.

She bent down, picked up the basket, and set it beside her on the garden seat. He felt a lump rising in his throat and catching at his breath. Well … perhaps I really will mind what you say. I will tell mamma … I will think again. Here she is, by the way, coming here.

Frau Lenore did in fact appear in the doorway leading from the house to the garden. She was in an agony of impatience; she could not keep still. According to her calculations, Sanin must long ago have finished all he had to say to Gemma, though his conversation with her had not lasted a quarter of an hour. The latter suddenly got up and hugged her. Can you? And till to-morrow not a word? She burst into sudden happy tears, incomprehensible to herself.

We must both wait a little. She began to make up little bunches of cherries, holding them high above her flushed face. She did not wipe away her tears; they had dried of themselves. Almost running, Sanin returned to his hotel room. He felt, he knew that only there, only by himself, would it be clear to him at last what was the matter, what was happening to him. An instant more … and he was utterly unable to understand how he could have sat beside her … her!

Now when he thought of her, she did not appear to him with blazing curls in the shining starlight; he saw her sitting on the garden-seat, saw her all at once tossing back her hat, and gazing at him so confidingly … and the tremor and hunger of love ran through all his veins.

He remembered the rose which he had been carrying about in his pocket for three days: he snatched it out, and pressed it with such feverish violence to his lips, that he could not help frowning with the pain. Now he considered nothing, reflected on nothing, did not deliberate, and did not look forward; he had done with all his past, he leaped forward into the future; from the dreary bank of his lonely bachelor life he plunged headlong into that glad, seething, mighty torrent—and little he cared, little he wished to know, where it would carry him, or whether it would dash him against a rock!

No more the soft-flowing currents of the Uhland song, which had lulled him not long ago … These were mighty, irresistible torrents! They rush flying onwards and he flies with them…. He took a sheet of paper, and without blotting out a word, almost with one sweep of the pen, wrote as follows:—. This passion has flamed up in me suddenly, but with such force that I can find no words for it! When your mother came to me and asked me, it was still only smouldering in me, or else I should certainly, as an honest man, have refused to carry out her request….

The confession I make you now is the confession of an honest man. You ought to know whom you have to do with—between us there should exist no misunderstandings. You see that I cannot give you any advice…. I love you, love you, love you—and I have nothing else—either in my head or in my heart!! When he had folded and sealed this note, Sanin was on the point of ringing for the waiter and sending it by him…. By Emil? With a satchel under his arm, and a roll of papers in his hand, the young enthusiast was hurrying home.

Sanin cut short his transports, handed him the note, and explained to whom and how he was to deliver it…. Emil listened attentively. I will stay at home. Sanin went back home, and without lighting a candle, flung himself on the sofa, put his hands behind his head, and abandoned himself to those sensations of newly conscious love, which it is no good even to describe.

One who has felt them knows their languor and sweetness; to one who has felt them not, one could never make them known. Passion was working too powerfully within him: he had no thought of reserve now, nor of the observance of a suitable demeanour—even before this boy, her brother. He would have been scrupulous, he would have controlled himself—if he could!

He went to the window, and by the light of a street lamp which stood just opposite the house, he read the following lines:—. I know you will not say no, because …. Sanin read this note twice through. Oh, how touchingly sweet and beautiful her handwriting seemed to him!

He thought a little, and turning to Emil, who, wishing to give him to understand what a discreet young person he was, was standing with his face to the wall, and scratching on it with his finger-nails, he called him aloud by name. Sanin laughed. Listen, my dearest boy— Emil gave a little skip of delight —listen; there you understand, there, you will say, that everything shall be done exactly as is wished— Emil compressed his lips and nodded solemnly —and as for me … what are you doing to-morrow, my dear boy?

Would you like to? Emil gave another little skip. Sanin walked up and down the room a long while, and went late to bed. He gave himself up to the same delicate and sweet sensations, the same joyous thrill at facing a new life. Sanin was very glad that the idea had occurred to him to invite Emil to spend the next day with him; he was like his sister. But most of all, he marvelled how he could have been yesterday other than he was to-day.

It seemed to him that he had loved Gemma for all time; and that he had loved her just as he loved her to-day. Had he sprung of German parentage, he could not have shown greater practicality. He had told a lie at home; he had said he was going for a walk with Sanin till lunch-time, and then going to the shop. After drinking coffee, the two friends set off together—on foot, of course—to Hausen, a little village lying a short distance from Frankfort, and surrounded by woods.

The whole chain of the Taunus mountains could be seen clearly from there. The weather was lovely; the sunshine was bright and warm, but not blazing hot; a fresh wind rustled briskly among the green leaves; the shadows of high, round clouds glided swiftly and smoothly in small patches over the earth.

The two young people soon got out of the town, and stepped out boldly and gaily along the well-kept road. They reached the woods, and wandered about there a long time; then they lunched very heartily at a country inn; then climbed on to the mountains, admired the views, rolled stones down and clapped their hands, watching the queer droll way in which the stones hopped along like rabbits, till a man passing below, unseen by them, began abusing them in a loud ringing voice.

Then they lay full length on the short dry moss of yellowish-violet colour; then they drank beer at another inn; ran races, and tried for a wager which could jump farthest. They discovered an echo, and began to call to it; sang songs, hallooed, wrestled, broke up dry twigs, decked their hats with fern, and even danced. Tartaglia, as far as he could, shared in all these pastimes; he did not throw stones, it is true, but he rolled head over heels after them; he howled when they were singing, and even drank beer, though with evident aversion; he had been trained in this art by a student to whom he had once belonged.

The young people talked, too. Emil began to question his friend and patron about Russia, how duels were fought there, and whether the women there were beautiful, and whether one could learn Russian quickly, and what he had felt when the officer took aim at him. To speak more precisely, it was not of her he was thinking, but of the morrow, the mysterious morrow which was to bring him new, unknown happiness!

It was as though a veil, a delicate, bright veil, hung faintly fluttering before his mental vision; and behind this veil he felt … felt the presence of a youthful, motionless, divine image, with a tender smile on its lips, and eyelids severely—with affected severity—downcast. And this image was not the face of Gemma, it was the face of happiness itself! For, behold, at last his hour had come, the veil had vanished, the lips were parting, the eyelashes are raised—his divinity has looked upon him—and at once light as from the sun, and joy and bliss unending!

He dreamed of this morrow—and his soul thrilled with joy again in the melting torture of ever-growing expectation! And this expectation, this torture, hindered nothing. It accompanied every action, and did not prevent anything.

It did not prevent him from dining capitally at a third inn with Emil; and only occasionally, like a brief flash of lightning, the thought shot across him, What if any one in the world knew? This suspense did not prevent him from playing leap-frog with Emil after dinner. The game took place on an open green lawn.

And the confusion, the stupefaction of Sanin may be imagined! Each of them had stuck an eyeglass in his eye, and was staring at him, chuckling! It was late when they got back to Frankfort. When he got home to his hotel, Sanin found a note there from Gemma. How his heart throbbed! How glad he was that he had obeyed her so unconditionally!

And, my God, what was promised … what was not promised, by that unknown, unique, impossible, and undubitably certain morrow! The long, elegant tail of the letter G, the first letter of her name, which stood at the bottom of the sheet, reminded him of her lovely fingers, her hand…. He thought that he had not once touched that hand with his lips….

And Gemma above all! Queen … goddess … pure, virginal marble…. He slept; but he might have said of himself in the words of the poet:. And it fluttered as lightly as a butterfly flutters his wings, as he stoops over the flowers in the summer sunshine.

It was a still, warm, grey morning. It seemed there had never been a breath of wind in the world. Every sound moved not, but was shed around in the stillness. In the distance was a faint thickening of whitish mist; in the air there was a scent of mignonette and white acacia flowers.

In the streets the shops were not open yet, but there were already some people walking about; occasionally a solitary carriage rumbled along … there was no one walking in the garden. A gardener was in a leisurely way scraping the path with a spade, and a decrepit old woman in a black woollen cloak was hobbling across the garden walk. Sanin could not for one instant mistake this poor old creature for Gemma; and yet his heart leaped, and he watched attentively the retreating patch of black.

Sanin stood still. Was it possible she would not come? A shiver of cold suddenly ran through his limbs. The same shiver came again an instant later, but from a different cause. He turned round: she! Gemma was coming up behind him along the path. She was wearing a grey cape and a small dark hat. She glanced at Sanin, turned her head away, and catching him up, passed rapidly by him. Gemma passed by the arbour, turned to the right, passed by a small flat fountain, in which the sparrows were splashing busily, and, going behind a clump of high lilacs, sank down on a bench.

The place was snug and hidden. Sanin sat down beside her. A minute passed, and neither he nor she uttered a word. She did not even look at him; and he gazed not at her face, but at her clasped hands, in which she held a small parasol. What was there to tell, what was there to say, which could compare, in importance, with the simple fact of their presence there, together, alone, so early, so close to each other.

It would have been difficult for Sanin to have said anything more foolish than these words … he was conscious of it himself…. But, at any rate, the silence was broken. The parasol slipped out of her hands. She hastily caught it before it dropped on the path. He besought her, held out his hands to her, and did not dare to touch her. I have loved you from the very instant I saw you; but I did not realise at once what you had become to me! And besides, I heard that you were solemnly betrothed….

They heard a heavy tread, and a rather stout gentleman with a knapsack over his shoulder, apparently a foreigner, emerged from behind the clump, and staring, with the unceremoniousness of a tourist, at the couple sitting on the garden-seat, gave a loud cough and went on. I shall never be his wife. I have broken with him. Sanin snatched those powerless, upturned palms, and pressed them to his eyes, to his lips….

Now the veil was lifted of which he had dreamed the night before! Here was happiness, here was its radiant form! He raised his head, and looked at Gemma, boldly and directly. She, too, looked at him, a little downwards. Her half-shut eyes faintly glistened, dim with light, blissful tears. Her face was not smiling … no! He tried to draw her to him, but she drew back, and never ceasing to laugh the same noiseless laugh, shook her head. They went together out of the garden and turned homewards, not by the streets of the town, but through the outskirts.

He never took his eyes off her and never ceased smiling. She seemed to hasten … seemed to linger. As a matter of fact, they both—he all pale, and she all flushed with emotion—were moving along as in a dream. Sanin walked along, and felt that he even looked at Gemma with other eyes; he instantly noted some peculiarities in her walk, in her movements,—and heavens! And she felt that that was how he was looking at her. Sanin and she were in love for the first time; all the miracles of first love were working in them.

First love is like a revolution; the uniformly regular routine of ordered life is broken down and shattered in one instant; youth mounts the barricade, waves high its bright flag, and whatever awaits it in the future—death or a new life—all alike it goes to meet with ecstatic welcome.

In the midst of his abundant happiness he felt a need to talk to Gemma, not of love—that was a settled thing and holy—but of something else. What could Gemma have said at which he would not have been in ecstasy?

And she began at once telling him, with haste, and confusion, and smiles, and brief sighs, and brief bright looks exchanged with Sanin. All Frankfort will know by to-morrow that an outsider has fought a duel with an officer on account of my betrothed—did any one ever hear of such a thing! It tarnishes my honour! I must own, I had meant to talk to you first … before breaking with him finally; but he came … and I could not restrain myself.

He was fearfully offended, but as he is fearfully self-conscious and conceited, he did not say much, and went away. So Gemma talked, hesitating and smiling and dropping her voice or stopping altogether every time any one met them or passed by. And Sanin listened ecstatically, enjoying the very sound of her voice, as the day before he had gloated over her handwriting. Now she calls you … Dimitri, a hypocrite and a cunning fellow, says that you have betrayed her confidence, and predicts that you will deceive me….

Sanin threw up his arms. I want to convince your mother that I am not a base deceiver! Gemma looked him full in the face. It burnt her lips; but all the more eagerly Sanin pronounced it. When she heard those words, Gemma, who had stopped still for an instant, went on faster than ever….

She seemed trying to run away from this too great and unexpected happiness! But suddenly her steps faltered. He caught sight of Gemma, caught sight of Sanin, and with a sort of inward snort and a backward bend of his supple figure, he advanced with a dashing swing to meet them. Gemma seized his arm, and with quiet decision, giving him hers, she looked her former betrothed full in the face…. If you would rather think a little, if … you are still free, Dimitri!

If Gemma had announced that she had brought with her cholera or death itself, one can hardly imagine that Frau Lenore could have received the news with greater despair. She immediately sat down in a corner, with her face to the wall, and burst into floods of tears, positively wailed, for all the world like a Russian peasant woman on the grave of her husband or her son.

For the first minute Gemma was so taken aback that she did not even go up to her mother, but stood still like a statue in the middle of the room; while Sanin was utterly stupefied, to the point of almost bursting into tears himself!

For a whole hour that inconsolable wail went on—a whole hour! Pantaleone thought it better to shut the outer door of the shop, so that no stranger should come; luckily, it was still early. Emil regarded himself as the medium of communication between his friend and his sister, and almost prided himself on its all having turned out so splendidly!

He was positively unable to conceive why Frau Lenore was so upset, and in his heart he decided on the spot that women, even the best of them, suffer from a lack of reasoning power! Sanin fared worst of all.

She restricted herself to waiting patiently on her mother, who at first repelled even her…. At last, by degrees, the storm abated. Frau Lenore gave over weeping, permitted Gemma to bring her out of the corner, where she sat huddled up, to put her into an arm-chair near the window, and to give her some orange-flower water to drink. She permitted Sanin—not to approach … oh, no!

Sanin immediately availed himself of the calm as it set in, and displayed an astounding eloquence. He could hardly have explained his intentions and emotions with more fire and persuasive force even to Gemma herself. He did not conceal from Frau Lenore nor from himself the disadvantageous side of those intentions; but the disadvantages were only apparent! It is true he was a foreigner; they had not known him long, they knew nothing positive about himself or his means; but he was prepared to bring forward all the necessary evidence that he was a respectable person and not poor; he would refer them to the most unimpeachable testimony of his fellow-countrymen!

He hoped Gemma would be happy with him, and that he would be able to make up to her for the separation from her own people! Frau Lenore began to tremble all over and move about uneasily…. Sanin hastened to observe that the separation would only be temporary, and that, in fact, possibly it would not take place at all! Frau Lenore began to glance at him, though still with bitterness and reproach, no longer with the same aversion and fury; then she suffered him to come near her, and even to sit down beside her Gemma was sitting on the other side ; then she fell to reproaching him,—not in looks only, but in words, which already indicated a certain softening of heart; she fell to complaining, and her complaints became quieter and gentler; they were interspersed with questions addressed at one time to her daughter, and at another to Sanin; then she suffered him to take her hand and did not at once pull it away … then she wept again, but her tears were now quite of another kind….

Then she smiled mournfully, and lamented the absence of Giovanni Battista, but quite on different grounds from before…. An instant more and the two criminals, Sanin and Gemma, were on their knees at her feet, and she was laying her hands on their heads in turn; another instant and they were embracing and kissing her, and Emil, his face beaming rapturously, ran into the room and added himself to the group so warmly united.

Pantaleone peeped into the room, smiled and frowned at the same time, and going into the shop, opened the front door. Besides, everything that had happened the last few days had been so extraordinary…. One thing upon the top of another. As a practical woman and a mother, Frau Lenore considered it her duty also to put Sanin through various questions; and Sanin, who, on setting out that morning to meet Gemma, had not a notion that he should marry her—it is true he did not think of anything at all at that time, but simply gave himself up to the current of his passion—Sanin entered, with perfect readiness, one might even say with zeal, into his part—the part of the betrothed lover, and answered all her inquiries circumstantially, exactly, with alacrity.

To which Sanin replied that he expected nothing else from her, and that he earnestly begged her not to spare him! My income is much smaller. I have a small estate in the province of Tula…. With good management, it might yield—and, in fact, it could not fail to yield—five or six thousand … and if I go into the government service, I can easily get a salary of two thousand a year.

She addressed herself again to Sanin, and began questioning him as to the laws existing in Russia as to marriage, and whether there were no obstacles to contracting marriages with Catholics as in Prussia. At that time, in , all Germany still remembered the controversy between the Prussian Government and the Archbishop of Cologne upon mixed marriages.

When Frau Lenore heard that by marrying a Russian nobleman, her daughter would herself become of noble rank, she evinced a certain satisfaction. Sanin explained to her that that was not at all necessary … but that he might certainly have to go to Russia for a very short time before his marriage— he said these words, and his heart ached painfully, Gemma watching him, knew it was aching, and blushed and grew dreamy —and that he would try to take advantage of being in his own country to sell his estate … in any case he would bring back the money needed.

But how will you do that? Will you sell your peasants then, too? Sanin felt something like a stab at his heart. He remembered that in a conversation with Signora Roselli and her daughter about serfdom, which, in his own words, aroused his deepest indignation, he had repeatedly assured them that never on any account would he sell his peasants, as he regarded such a sale as an immoral act.

She seemed not to have heard his last words. In this way the practical talk continued almost uninterruptedly till dinner-time. Gemma flew to kiss her mother…. It seemed as if only then she breathed freely again, and the load that had been oppressing her dropped from off her soul. Sanin felt all at once so happy, his heart was filled with such childish gaiety at the thought, that here, after all, the dreams had come true to which he had abandoned himself not long ago in these very rooms, his whole being was in such a turmoil that he went quickly out into the shop.

He felt a great desire, come what might, to sell something in the shop, as he had done a few days before…. At dinner he received an official position, as betrothed, beside Gemma. Frau Lenore pursued her practical investigations. Emil kept laughing and urging Sanin to take him with him to Russia. It was decided that Sanin should set off in a fortnight. Only Pantaleone showed a somewhat sullen face, so much so that Frau Lenore reproached him.

Gemma was silent almost all the time, but her face had never been lovelier or brighter. After dinner she called Sanin out a minute into the garden, and stopping beside the very garden-seat where she had been sorting the cherries two days before, she said to him.

Gemma turned away her face. She snatched the garnet cross that hung round her neck on a thin cord, gave it a violent tug, snapped the cord, and handed him the cross. By the evening everything went on in its accustomed way. They even played a game of tresette. Sanin woke up very early. He found himself at the highest pinnacle of human happiness; but it was not that prevented him from sleeping; the question, the vital, fateful question—how he could dispose of his estate as quickly and as advantageously as possible—disturbed his rest.

The most diverse plans were mixed up in his head, but nothing had as yet come out clearly. He went out of the house to get air and freshen himself. He wanted to present himself to Gemma with a project ready prepared and not without. What was the figure, somewhat ponderous and thick in the legs, but well-dressed, walking in front of him, with a slight roll and waddle in his gait? Where had he seen that head, covered with tufts of flaxen hair, and as it were set right into the shoulders, that soft cushiony back, those plump arms hanging straight down at his sides?

Could it be Polozov, his old schoolfellow, whom he had lost sight of for the last five years? Sanin overtook the figure walking in front of him, turned round…. Where have you come from? Where are you stopping? Yes, Pavlovitch! Polozov again shifted his eyes. She does as she likes, and so do I. Polozov went on. Sanin walked beside him. Besides, I will name a moderate, reasonable price! Why not try? Polozov led Sanin to one of the best hotels in Frankfort, in which he was, of course, occupying the best apartments.

On the tables and chairs lay piles of packages, cardboard boxes, and parcels. Then he rang up the head-waiter, and ordered with intense care a very lavish luncheon. Polozov unbuttoned his waistcoat. From the very way in which he raised his eyebrows, gasped, and wrinkled up his nose, one could see that talking would be a great labour to him, and that he was waiting in some trepidation to see whether Sanin was going to oblige him to use his tongue, or whether he would take the task of keeping up the conversation on himself.

He learnt that he had been for two years in the service in the Uhlans! On his side too, Sanin did not enlarge much on his past life and his plans; he went straight to the principal point—that is, he began talking of his intention of selling his estate. Polozov listened to him in silence, his eyes straying from time to time to the door, by which the luncheon was to appear.

The luncheon did appear at last. The head-waiter, accompanied by two other attendants, brought in several dishes under silver covers. Uncork that bottle, waiter! Why are you selling it? I would sell it cheap. Come, you might as well buy it … by the way.

Polozov gulped down a glass of wine, wiped his lips with the napkin, and again set to work chewing slowly and noisily. Pass the butter. Perhaps my wife now would buy it. You talk to her about it. What asses these Germans are, really! What could be simpler, one wonders?

I can recommend them. Go to Wiesbaden. Polozov gulped down his wine, rinsed his mouth, and washed his hands, carefully wiped them on the napkin, took out and lighted a cigar. Sanin watched him in silence. If she likes, she can take all the bother off your hands. I must always have a nap, brother, after a meal.

But Polozov was already snoring. He had to let Gemma know. He found her in the shop with her mother. Frau Lenore was stooping down, measuring with a big folding foot-rule the space between the windows. On seeing Sanin, she stood up, and greeted him cheerfully, though with a shade of embarrassment. Here, I fancy we might put a couple of cupboards with shelves of looking-glass. But come here, I want to tell you something. Frau Lenore was alarmed, and the foot-rule slipped out of her hands. Gemma too was almost frightened, but she took an intent look at Sanin, and was reassured.

His face, though preoccupied, expressed at the same time keen self-confidence and determination. He asked both the women to sit down, while he remained standing before them, and gesticulating with his hands and ruffling up his hair, he told them all his story; his meeting with Polozov, his proposed expedition to Wiesbaden, the chance of selling the estate. And we can have our wedding much sooner than I had anticipated! Be sensible and firm. Gemma turned away, and Sanin gave another wave of his hand.

I am leaving my heart here, you know! But I have said what I had to say to you, and I must run home before setting off too…. I shall reappear the day after to-morrow with my shield or on it! Something tells me I shall come back in triumph! Good-bye, my good dear ones…. He embraced and kissed Frau Lenore, but he asked Gemma to follow him into her room—for just a minute—as he must tell her something of great importance.

He simply wanted to say good-bye to her alone. Frau Lenore saw that, and felt no curiosity as to the matter of such great importance. All the magic of love, all its fire and rapture and sweet terror, seemed to flame up and burst into his soul, directly he crossed its sacred threshold….

A few instants later Sanin was running along the street to his lodging. He did not even notice that Pantaleone, all dishevelled, had darted out of the shop-door after him, and was shouting something to him and was shaking, as though in menace, his lifted hand. Exactly at a quarter to one Sanin presented himself before Polozov.

The carriage with four horses was already standing at the hotel gates. The waiters, by his directions, disposed all his numerous purchases in the inside of the carriage, lined the place where he was to sit with silk cushions, bags, and bundles, put a hamper of provisions for his feet to rest on, and tied a trunk on to the box. Polozov sent orders by the door-keeper to the postillion to drive carefully—if he wanted drinks; the carriage steps grated, the doors slammed, and the carriage rolled off.

It takes less than an hour in these days by rail from Frankfort to Wiesbaden; at that time the extra post did it in three hours. They changed horses five times. He was all absorbed in reflections and memories. At the stations Polozov paid with exactness, took the time by his watch, and tipped the postillions—more or less—according to their zeal. When they had gone half way, he took two oranges out of the hamper of edibles, and choosing out the better, offered the other to Sanin. Sanin looked steadily at his companion, and suddenly burst out laughing.

For instance, can you fancy me riding as an orderly officer? Trot now! Look sharp! What is her character? What my wife is? A person like any one else. The great thing is to talk a lot to her … something for her to laugh at. Tell her about your love, or something … but make it more amusing, you know. Well, then, describe that. What do I want with children?

Feminine fallals … finery. For the toilet. But this … is no consequence. To pass the time—one may do it. And my wife has confidence in my taste. Polozov began to speak by jerks; he was exhausted already. With me she can do just as she likes! You see how hard it is for me.

The hotel in Wiesbaden, before which the carriage stopped, was exactly like a palace. Bells were promptly set ringing in its inmost recesses; a fuss and bustle arose; men of good appearance in black frock-coats skipped out at the principal entrance; a door-keeper who was a blaze of gold opened the carriage doors with a flourish.

Like some triumphant general Polozov alighted and began to ascend a staircase strewn with rugs and smelling of agreeable perfumes. To him flew up another man, also very well dressed but with a Russian face—his valet. Polozov observed to him that for the future he should always take him everywhere with him, for the night before at Frankfort, he, Polozov, had been left for the night without hot water!

Madam is pleased to be dressing. There are things there in the carriage; get them all yourself and bring them up. We will dine together. Polozov waddled off, while Sanin asked for an inexpensive room for himself; and after setting his attire to rights, and resting a little, he repaired to the immense apartment occupied by his Serenity Durchlaucht Prince von Polozov.

Sanin approached him and scrutinised him for some time. Polozov was sitting rigid as an idol; he did not even turn his face in his direction, did not even move an eyebrow, did not utter a sound. It was truly a sublime spectacle! After having admired him for a couple of minutes, Sanin was on the point of speaking, of breaking this hallowed silence, when suddenly the door from the next room was thrown open, and in the doorway appeared a young and beautiful lady in a white silk dress trimmed with black lace, and with diamonds on her arms and neck—Maria Nikolaevna Polozov.

Her thick fair hair fell on both sides of her head, braided, but not fastened up into a knot. I know…. You told me before. Very glad to make your acquaintance. But I wanted to ask you, Ippolit Sidorovitch…. She nodded to Sanin, and turning swiftly, vanished through the doorway, leaving behind her a fleeting but graceful impression of a charming neck, exquisite shoulders, an exquisite figure.

Sanin was inwardly delighted indeed at this freak on the part of Madame Polozov; if, he thought, she is anxious to impress me, to dazzle me, perhaps, who knows, she will be accommodating about the price of the estate. But had he not been in such an exceptional state of mind he would most likely have expressed himself differently; Maria Nikolaevna Polozov, by birth Kolishkin, was a very striking personality. And not that she was of a beauty to which no exception could be taken; traces of her plebeian origin were rather clearly apparent in her.

Her forehead was low, her nose rather fleshy and turned up; she could boast neither of the delicacy of her skin nor of the elegance of her hands and feet—but what did all that matter? Ten minutes later Maria Nikolaevna appeared again, escorted by her husband. She went up to Sanin … and her walk was such that some eccentrics of that—alas! Sanin bowed respectfully, while Maria Nikolaevna vanished behind the curtain over the outside door; and as she vanished turned her head back over her shoulder, and smiled again, and again left behind her the same impression of grace.

When she smiled, not one and not two, but three dimples came out on each cheek, and her eyes smiled more than her lips—long, crimson, juicy lips with two tiny moles on the left side of them. Polozov waddled into the room and again established himself in the arm-chair. He was speechless as before; but from time to time a queer smile puffed out his colourless and already wrinkled cheeks.

He looked like an old man, though he was only three years older than Sanin. The dinner with which he regaled his guest would of course have satisfied the most exacting gourmand, but to Sanin it seemed endless, insupportable! First he rinsed his mouth with wine, then swallowed it and smacked his lips…. Over the roast meat he suddenly began to talk—but of what? Of merino sheep, of which he was intending to order a whole flock, and in such detail, with such tenderness, using all the while endearing pet names for them.

After drinking a cup of coffee, hot to boiling point he had several times in a voice of tearful irritation mentioned to the waiter that he had been served the evening before with coffee, cold—cold as ice! Sanin agreed readily; he was afraid that Polozov would begin talking again about lambs and ewes and fat tails. The host and the visitor both adjourned to the drawing-room, the waiter brought in the cards, and the game began, not,—of course, for money.

She laughed aloud directly she came into the room and saw the cards and the open card-table. She did in fact return very soon. Her evening dress she had exchanged for a full lilac silk tea-gown, with open hanging sleeves; a thick twisted cord was fastened round her waist.

The free and easy deportment of Madame Polozov would probably for the first moment have disconcerted Sanin—though he was not quite a novice and had knocked about the world a little—if he had not again seen in this very freedom and familiarity a good omen for his undertaking.

I imagined that young men like you were not to be met with anywhere in these days. You do love her, I suppose? Daguerrotypes had hardly begun to be common. You must be an excellent fellow. Give me your hand. Let us be friends. She pressed his hand tightly in her beautiful, white, strong fingers. Her hand was a little smaller than his hand, but much warmer and smoother and whiter and more full of life.

You say she is betrothed to you. But was that … was that quite necessary? Maria Nikolaevna gave a soft low laugh, and shaking her head tossed back the hair that was falling on her cheeks. Maria Nikolaevna talked Russian all the time, an astonishingly pure true Moscow Russian, such as the people, not the nobles speak.

My father … I daresay you know who my father was? He was a Tula man. Well … well. Come, let us get to business now. Maria Nikolaevna half-closed her eyes. Her eyes gained a peculiar beauty from her eyebrows, which were thick, and met in the centre, and had the smoothness of sable fur. You want money for your nuptials? Your husband knows my estate. You can consult him—I would take a very moderate price. Maria Nikolaevna tossed her head from left to right. Instead of encouraging you … come, how is one to express it properly?

I can be hard on people, on occasion—only not in that way. A man-servant came in with a Russian samovar, tea-things, cream, biscuits, etc. She poured him out a cup of tea. He did not finish his phrase, and almost choked over a sip of tea, while she watched him attentively and brightly. Sanin got confused, and lost the thread of what he was saying, while Maria Nikolaevna softly leaned back in her easy-chair, folded her arms, and watched him with the same attentive bright look.

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Forgot your password? Retrieve it. Get promoted. Powered by OnRad. Think you know music? Test your MusicIQ here! In Lyrics. By Artist. By Album. Listen online. Year: Views Playlists: 2. Notify me of new comments via email. Cancel Report. Create a new account. Log In. Powered by CITE. Missing lyrics by South Sixty-Five? Know any other songs by South Sixty-Five? Don't keep it to yourself! Add it Here. Rude remarks will be flagged and removed.

Download Video. Comments 7 years ago Sandy Adair Love the video and song the video touched my heart. Thank you so much 1 picture I remember from the movie pay it forward. Thank you so much for making and sharing! Keep making a difference Parker was a father of one of the singers. Had a live concert. It is a reminder that if we all do just one Random Act of Kindness a day that it would be a much better time to be living in.

I remember hearing it on the radio years ago, but didn't know who sang it. Me too!

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