such phrases, which had nothing to do with the matter in band, and did not fit each other; but I had such confidence in Dmítri, and he kept on looking all the evening with such anxiety, now at me, and now at her, with an expression which meant, "Well, what do you say?" that, as is often the case, I was very far from formulating my thought in regard to her, though at heart I was convinced that there was nothing remarkable in Lyubóv Sergyéevna.
Finally, the last person of that family, Várenka, was a plump girl sixteen years of age. Nothing but her dark gray eyes, which united merriment and quiet attention, and in expression very much resembled the eyes of her aunt, and a long blond braid, and an extremely tender and beautiful hand, was attractive in her.
"M. Nicolas, it must be tiresome to you to begin listening in the middle," said Sófya Ivánovna with her kindly sigh, turning the piece of the dress which she was sewing.
The reading just then stopped, because Dmítri had left the room.
"Or have you read 'Rob Roy' before?"
At that time I considered it my duty, because of my student uniform if for no other reason, to answer the simplest question of persons with whom I was little acquainted, in a clever and original manner, and regarded it as shameful to give short, clear answers, such as, “yes," "no," and so forth. Looking at my new fashionable pantaloons and the bright buttons of my coat, I answered that I had not read “Rob Roy," but that I liked very much to hear it read, because I preferred to read books from the middle rather than from the beginning.
"It is twice as interesting. You can guess what was before, and what will follow after," I added, smiling contentedly.
The princess laughed, as it seemed to me, unnaturally, but I learned later that she had no other laugh.
