RUDIN
he had not even a cup of tea to offer to his friends, and his only sofa was so shaky that it was like being on board ship. But in spite of these discomforts a great many people used to go to see him. Every one loved him; he drew all hearts to him. You would not believe what sweetness and happiness there was in sitting in his poor little room! It was in his room I met Rudin. He had already parted from his prince before then.’
‘What was there so exceptional in this Pokorsky?’ asked Alexandra Pavlovna.
‘How can I tell you? Poetry and truth— that was what drew all of us to him. For all his clear, broad intellect he was as sweet and simple as a child. Even now I have his bright laugh ringing in my ears, and at the same time he
Burnt his midnight lamp
Before the holy and the true,
as a dear half-cracked fellow, the poet of our set, expressed it.’
‘And how did he talk?’ Alexandra Pavlovna questioned again.
‘He talked well when he was in the mood,
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