The first time Beaumont only smiled, not gayly and not reassuringly; the second time he also succeeded in saying, "By all probability, it could not."
And these were only occasional echoes, and then only at first. But for the most part the evening was spent gayly; in half an hour it was quite gay. They talked, played, sang. "She is sound asleep," says Mosolof, and he takes the lead. And really, it was impossible to disturb her. The room where she was lying down was a long way from the parlor, separated by three rooms, a corridor, and a flight of stairs, and then another room. It was at the further side of the apartment.
And so the evening was a great success. The young folks, as usual, either joined the others, or were by themselves. Beaumont joined them a couple of times; a couple of times Viéra Pavlovna would draw him from them and their serious conversation.
They talked a great deal; but there was, after all, very little serious discussion.
All were sitting together.
"Well, what was the result? Was it good or bad?" asked one of the young men, who had taken the tragical attitude.
"She is rather worse than better," said Viéra Pavlovna.
"What do you mean, Viérotchka?" asked Katerina Vasílyevna.
"At all events, it is unavoidable in life," said Beaumont.
"It is an inevitable fate," said Kirsánof, in affirmation.
"It is an excellently bad thing; consequently, it is excellent," said the one who asked.
The other three young fellows nodded their heads, and said, "Bravo, Nikítin!"
The young folks were by themselves.
"I did not know him, Nikítin; but you knew him, didn't you?" asked Mosolof.
"I was a little boy then, but I saw him."
"But how does it seem to you now, as you look back? do they tell the truth? Would he accept her friendship?"
"No."
"And haven't you seen him since?"
