Every evening in the winter of 1912, the narrator visits the same apartment opposite the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. There lives a woman whom he madly loves. The narrator takes her to fancy restaurants, presents books, chocolates and fresh flowers, but does not know how it will end. She doesn't want to talk about the future. There was no real, last intimacy between them, and this keeps the narrator "in an insoluble tension, in agonizing anticipation." Despite this, he is happy with her.
She studies history courses and lives alone - her father, a widowed enlightened merchant, settled “at rest in Tver”. She accepts all the gifts of the narrator casually and absent-mindedly.
It seemed that she did not need anything: no flowers, no books, no dinners, no theaters, no dinners outside the city.
She has favorite flowers, she reads books, eats chocolate and dines with great pleasure, but her only real weakness is “good clothes, velvet, silk, expensive fur”.
Both the narrator and his beloved are young and very beautiful. The narrator is like an Italian, bright and mobile. She is dark and black-eyed like a Persian. He is "prone to talkativeness and simple-hearted gaiety", she is always restrained and silent.
The narrator often recalls how they met at a lecture by Andrei Bely. The writer did not give a lecture, but sang it, running around the stage. The narrator "spun and laughed so hard" that he attracted the attention of the girl sitting in the next chair, and she laughed with him.
Sometimes she silently, but not resisting, allows the narrator to kiss "her hands, feet, amazingly smooth body." Feeling that he can no longer control himself, she pulls away and leaves. She says she is not suitable for marriage, and the narrator no longer speaks to her about it.
Our incomplete intimacy sometimes seemed unbearable, but even here - what was left for me but hope for time?
The fact that he looks at her, accompanies her to restaurants and theaters, is torment and happiness for the narrator.
This is how the narrator spends January and February. Shrovetide comes. On Forgiveness Sunday, she orders to pick her up earlier than usual. They go to the Novodevichy Convent. On the way, she says that yesterday morning she was at the schismatic cemetery, where their archbishop was buried, and recalls the whole rite with delight. The narrator is surprised - until now, he has not noticed that she is so religious.
They come to the cemetery of the Novodevichy Convent and walk for a long time between the graves. The narrator looks at her adoringly. She notices this and is genuinely surprised: he really loves her so much! In the evening, they eat pancakes in the Okhotny Ryad tavern, she again with admiration tells him about the monasteries she has seen, and threatens to go to the most remote of them. The narrator does not take her words seriously.
The next evening, she asks the narrator to take her to the theatrical skits, although she considers such gatherings extremely vulgar. The whole evening she drinks champagne, looks at the antics of the actors, and then dashingly dances a polka with one of them.
In the middle of the night, the narrator brings her home. To his surprise, she asks to release the coachman and go up to her apartment - before she did not allow this. They are coming together completely. Towards morning, she informs the narrator that she is leaving for Tver, promises to write and asks to leave her now.
The narrator receives the letter in two weeks. She says goodbye to him and asks him not to wait and not look for her.
I will not return to Moscow, I will go to obedience for the time being, then maybe I will decide to tonsure ... May God give me strength not to answer me - it is useless to prolong and increase our torment ...
The narrator fulfills her request. He begins to disappear in the dirtiest taverns, gradually losing his human appearance, then for a long time, indifferently and hopelessly comes to himself.
Two years pass. Under New Year the narrator, with tears in his eyes, repeats the path that he once made with his beloved on Forgiveness Sunday. Then he stops at the Martha and Mary Convent and wants to enter. The janitor does not allow the narrator: a service for the Grand Duchess and the Grand Duke is going on inside. The narrator still enters, thrusting a ruble into the janitor.
In the courtyard of the monastery, the narrator sees the procession. It is headed by the Grand Duchess, followed by a line of singing nuns or sisters with candles near their pale faces. One of the sisters suddenly raises her black eyes and looks directly at the narrator, as if sensing his presence in the darkness. The narrator turns and quietly exits the gate.
Summary "Clean Monday" Option 2
- About the work
- main characters
- Summary
- Conclusion
They met in December, by chance. When he got to Andrei Bely's lecture, he turned and laughed so much that she, who happened to be in a chair next to her and at first looked at him with some bewilderment, also laughed. Now every evening he drove to her apartment, rented by her solely for the sake of a wonderful view of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, every evening he took her to dine in chic restaurants, theaters, concerts ... He did not know how all this had to end and tried not to even think: she once and for all put away the talk of the future.
She was mysterious and incomprehensible; their relationship was strange and uncertain, and this kept him in constant unresolved tension, in painful anticipation. And yet, what happiness was every hour spent next to her ...
In Moscow she lived alone (her widowed father, an enlightened man of a noble merchant family lived in retirement in Tver), for some reason she studied at courses (she liked history) and kept learning the slow beginning of the Moonlight Sonata, only one beginning ... flowers, chocolate and newfangled books, receiving indifferent and absent-minded "Thank you ..." for all this. And it seemed that she did not need anything, although she still preferred flowers to her beloved, read books, ate chocolate, dined and dined with gusto. Her obvious weakness was only good clothes, expensive fur ...
They were both rich, healthy, young and so good-looking that they were watched at restaurants and at concerts. He, being a native of the Penza province, was then handsome with southern, "Italian" beauty and had the appropriate character: lively, cheerful, always ready for a happy smile. And she had some kind of Indian, Persian beauty, and how talkative and restless he was, she was so silent and thoughtful ... Even when he suddenly kissed her hotly, impulsively, she did not resist, but was silent all the time. And when she felt that he could not control himself, she calmly pulled away, went into the bedroom and dressed for the next trip. "No, I'm not good at being a wife!" She repeated. "It will be seen there!" He thought, and never again spoke of marriage.
But sometimes this incomplete intimacy seemed to him unbearably painful: "No, this is not love!" - "Who knows what love is?" She answered. And again the whole evening they talked only about a stranger, and again he was glad only that he was just next to Her, he heard her voice, looked at the lips that he had kissed an hour ago ... What agony! And what happiness!
So January, February passed, the Shrovetide came and passed. On a forgiveness Sunday, she dressed in all black ("After all, tomorrow is clean Monday!") And invited him to go to the Novodevichy Convent. He looked at her in amazement, and She talked about the beauty and sincerity of the burial of the schismatic archbishop, about the singing of the church choir, making the heart flutter, about their lonely visits to the Kremlin cathedrals ... Then they wandered for a long time Novodevichy cemetery, visited the graves of Ertel and Chekhov, for a long time -
and fruitlessly searched for Griboyedov's house, and not finding it, went to Yegorov's tavern in Okhotny Ryad.
The tavern was warm and full of thickly dressed cabbies. “How good,” she said. - And only in some northern monasteries this Russia now remains ... Oh, I'll go somewhere to a monastery, to some of the most deaf! " And she read by heart from ancient Russian legends: “... And the devil brought a flying serpent to his wife for fornication. And this serpent appeared to her in human nature, very beautiful ... ". And again he looked with surprise and concern: what happened to her today? All quirks?
For tomorrow she asked to take her to the theatrical skits, although she noticed that there was nothing more vulgar than them. On the skit, she smoked a lot and stared at the actors, grimacing to the laughter of the audience. At first, one of them looked at her with pretended gloomy greed, then, drunkenly leaning to his hand, inquired about her companion: “What kind of handsome man is this? I hate it "... At three o'clock in the morning, leaving the skit, She either jokingly or seriously said:" He was right. Of course, handsome. "A serpent in human nature, very beautiful ...". And that evening, contrary to usual, she asked to let the carriage go ...
And in a quiet night apartment, she immediately went into the bedroom, rustling the dress she was taking off. He went to the door: she, wearing nothing but swan's shoes, stood in front of the pier glass, combing her black hair with a tortoiseshell comb. “All told, I don't think much about him,” she said. “No, I thought…”… And at dawn he woke up from her gaze: “This evening I am leaving for Tver,” she said. - How long, God knows ... I'll write everything as soon as I arrive. Forgive me, leave me now ... "
The letter received two weeks later was short - an affectionate, but firm request not to wait, not to try to search and see: "I will not return to Moscow, I will go to obedience for the time being, then, perhaps, I will decide to tonsure ..." And he did not look, for a long time disappeared in the dirtiest taverns, drank himself intoxicated, dropping more and more. Then he began to recover a little - indifferently, hopelessly ...
Almost two years have passed since that clean Monday ... On the same quiet evening he left the house, took a cab and went to the Kremlin. I stood for a long time, not praying, in the dark Archangel Cathedral, then I drove for a long time, as then, along the dark alleys and kept crying, crying ...
On Ordynka I stopped at the gates of the Martha-Mariinsky monastery, in which the girl's choir sang sadly and tenderly. The janitor didn’t want to let it through, but let it go for the ruble, sighing in sorrow. Then from the church appeared icons, banners carried on their hands, a white line of singing nuns stretched out, with candles on their faces. He looked at them attentively, and then one of the walking in the middle suddenly raised her head and fixed her dark eyes in the darkness, as if seeing him. What could she see in the dark, how could she feel His presence? He turned and quietly left the gate.
They met in December, by chance. When he got to Andrei Bely's lecture, he turned and laughed so much that she, who happened to be in a chair next to her and at first looked at him with some bewilderment, also laughed. Now every evening he drove to her apartment, rented by her solely for the sake of a wonderful view of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, every evening he took her to dine in chic restaurants, theaters, concerts ... He did not know how all this was supposed to end and tried not to even think: she once and for all averted talk of the future.
She was mysterious and incomprehensible; their relationship was strange and uncertain, and this kept him in constant unresolved tension, in painful anticipation. And yet, what happiness was every hour spent next to her ...
In Moscow she lived alone (her widowed father, an enlightened man of a noble merchant family lived in retirement in Tver), for some reason she studied at courses (she liked history) and kept learning the slow beginning of the Moonlight Sonata, only one beginning ... flowers, chocolate and newfangled books, receiving an indifferent and absent-minded "Thank you ..." for all this. And it seemed that she did not need anything, although she still preferred flowers to her beloved, read books, ate chocolate, dined and dined with gusto. Her obvious weakness was only good clothes, expensive fur ...
They were both rich, healthy, young and so good-looking that they were watched at restaurants and at concerts. He, being a native of the Penza province, was then handsome with southern, “Italian” beauty and had the appropriate character: lively, cheerful, always ready for a happy smile. And she had some kind of Indian, Persian beauty, and how talkative and restless he was, she was so silent and thoughtful ... Even when he suddenly kissed her hotly, impulsively, she did not resist, but was silent all the time. And when she felt that he was unable to control himself, she calmly moved away, went into the bedroom and dressed for the next trip. "No, I'm not good for a wife!" She repeated. "It will be seen there!" - he thought and never spoke of marriage again.
But sometimes this incomplete intimacy seemed to him unbearably painful: "No, this is not love!" - "Who knows what love is?" She answered. And again all evening they talked only about a stranger, and again he was glad only that he was just next to her, he heard her voice, looked at the lips that he had kissed an hour ago ... What a torment! And what happiness!
So January, February passed, the Shrovetide came and passed. On forgiveness Sunday, she dressed in all black ("After all, tomorrow is clean Monday!") And invited him to go to the Novodevichy Convent. He looked at her in surprise, and she talked about the beauty and sincerity of the burial of the schismatic archbishop, about the singing of the church choir, making the heart flutter, about their lonely visits to the Kremlin cathedrals ... Then they wandered around the Novodevichy cemetery for a long time, visited the graves of Ertel and Chekhov, long and fruitlessly looking for Griboyedov's house, and not finding it, went to Yegorov's tavern in Okhotny Ryad.
The tavern was warm and full of thickly dressed cabbies. “How good,” she said. “And only in some northern monasteries this Russia now remains ... Oh, I’ll go somewhere to a monastery, to some of the most deaf!” And she read by heart from ancient Russian legends: “... And the devil brought a flying serpent to his wife for fornication. And this serpent appeared to her in human nature, very beautiful ... ”. And again he looked with surprise and anxiety: what happened to her today? All quirks?
For tomorrow she asked to take her to the theatrical skits, although she noticed that there was nothing more vulgar than them. At the skit, she smoked a lot and stared at the actors, grimacing to the laughter of the audience. At first one of them looked at her with mock grim greed, then, drunkenly leaning to his hand, inquired about her companion: “And what kind of handsome man is this? I hate it ”... At three o'clock in the morning, leaving the skit, She either jokingly or seriously said:“ He was right. Of course, handsome. "A serpent in human nature, very beautiful ..." ". And that evening, contrary to usual, she asked to let the carriage go ...
And in a quiet night apartment, she immediately went into the bedroom, rustling the dress she was taking off. He went to the door: she, wearing nothing but swan's shoes, stood in front of the pier glass, combing her black hair with a tortoiseshell comb. “All told, I don't think much about him,” she said. “No, I thought…”… And at dawn he woke up from her gaze: “This evening I'm leaving for Tver,” she said. - How long, God knows ... I'll write everything as soon as I arrive. Forgive me, leave me now ... "
The letter received two weeks later was short - an affectionate, but firm request not to wait, not to try to search and see: “I will not return to Moscow, I’ll go to obedience for a while, then maybe I’ll decide to tonsure ...” And he didn’t look for a long time he disappeared in the dirtiest taverns, drank himself to death, dropping more and more. Then he began to recover a little - indifferently, hopelessly ...
Almost two years have passed since that clean Monday ... On the same quiet evening, he left the house, took a cab and went to the Kremlin. I stood for a long time, not praying, in the dark Archangel Cathedral, then I drove for a long time, as then, along the dark alleys and kept crying, crying ...
On Ordynka, he stopped at the gates of the Martha-Mariinsky monastery, in which the girl's choir sang sadly and tenderly. The janitor did not want to let it through, but let it go for a ruble, sighing in sorrow. Then from the church appeared icons, banners carried in their arms, a white line of singing nuns stretched out, with candles on their faces. He looked at them attentively, and then one of the walking in the middle suddenly raised her head and fixed her dark eyes into the darkness, as if seeing him. What could she see in the dark, how could she feel His presence? He turned and quietly left the gate.
Option 2
They met by chance one day in December. He came to listen to a lecture by Andrey Bely, and he laughed so hard that he infected everyone around him with his laughter. She was next to him, and also laughed, not understanding the reason. Now they went to restaurants and theaters together, and lived in the same apartment. They didn't want to talk about the future, enjoying every minute of their happiness. She had a separate apartment in Moscow. Father, from a wealthy family, lived in Tver. Every day he brought flowers and gifts. Both were not poor, young and happy. In restaurants, everyone saw them off, admiring the combination of such beauty. But for marriage, they were not ready yet.
There were times when it seemed to him that there was no love. In response I heard only the words: “What is love? “. Over and over again, they were just two, and enjoyed every moment of life. So the winter passed, and on Forgiveness Sunday she put on black clothes and offered to go to the Novodevichy Convent. He looked at her in amazement, and she told how her heart beats when you are in church, and how beautifully the church choir sings. They walked along the Novodevichy cemetery for a long time, looking for the graves of famous writers. After that, they went to a tavern on Okhotny Ryad.
There were many people in the tavern. She never stopped thinking about how good it was in Russian monasteries, and wanted to go to one of them someday. She recited ancient Russian legends by heart, and he again looked at her in surprise, not knowing what was happening to her.
The next day, she decided to take a ride to the theatrical meeting, although she said it went. Here she looked at celebrities and smoked a lot. One of the actors watched her eagerly for the whole evening, and at the end, getting drunk, put his lips to her hand. He asked who her companion was, glaring at him with hatred. In the middle of the night, coming from a party, she thought that her boyfriend was too handsome, like a snake in human form. And after thinking a little, she let the carriage go.
Entering a quiet, calm apartment, she immediately went into the bedroom and took off her dress. He went to the door and saw her standing only in swan's shoes. She stood in front of the mirror and combed her hair. Saying that it was not morning she was leaving for Tver to see her father, she went to bed. Two weeks later, he received a letter stating that she would not come again. In addition, she asked not to seek a meeting with her. He did not search, for a long time, going down to the bottom with the help of alcohol. Then, little by little I began to come to my senses.
Several years later, he left the house and went to the Kremlin. It was a clean Monday, and he stood for a long time in one of the cathedrals, not praying. Then he drove through the dark Moscow streets and cried.
After a while, he stopped at the gates of the Martha - Mariinsky Monastery, where the girl's choir sang so beautifully and sadly. At first they did not want to let him in, but after paying the janitor a ruble, he entered. Here he saw the nuns come out of the church, holding candles in their hands. He looked at them closely. Suddenly he saw her. She stared into the darkness, straight at him, not seeing anything. It is possible that she sensed his presence. He turned and walked out.
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Clean Monday
They met in December, by chance. When he got to Andrei Bely's lecture, he turned and laughed so much that she, who happened to be in a chair next to her and at first looked at him with some bewilderment, also laughed. Now every evening he drove to her apartment, rented by her solely for the sake of a wonderful view of the Cathedral of Christ the Savior, every evening he took her to dine in chic restaurants, theaters, concerts ... How all this was supposed to end, he did not know and tried not to even think: she once and for all put away the talk of the future.
She was mysterious and incomprehensible; their relationship was strange and uncertain, and this kept him in constant unresolved tension, in painful anticipation. And yet, what happiness was every hour spent next to her ...
In Moscow she lived alone (her widowed father, an enlightened man of a noble merchant family lived in retirement in Tver), for some reason she studied at courses (she liked history) and kept learning the slow beginning of the Moonlight Sonata, only one beginning ... flowers, chocolate and newfangled books, receiving indifferent and absent-minded "Thank you ..." for all this. And it seemed that she did not need anything, although she still preferred flowers to her beloved, read books, ate chocolate, dined and dined with gusto. Her obvious weakness was only good clothes, expensive fur ...
They were both rich, healthy, young and so good-looking that they were watched at restaurants and at concerts. He, being a native of the Penza province, was then handsome with southern, "Italian" beauty and had the appropriate character: lively, cheerful, always ready for a happy smile.
And she had some kind of Indian, Persian beauty, and how talkative and restless he was, she was so silent and thoughtful ... Even when he suddenly kissed her hotly, impulsively, she did not resist, but was silent all the time. And when she felt that he was unable to control himself, she calmly pulled away, went into the bedroom and dressed for the next trip. "No, I'm not good for a wife!" she repeated. "It will be seen there!" he thought, and never again spoke of marriage.
But sometimes this incomplete intimacy seemed to him unbearably painful: "No, this is not love!" - "Who knows what love is?" she answered. And again the whole evening they talked only about a stranger, and again he was happy only that he was just next to her, he heard her voice, looked at the lips that he had kissed an hour ago ... What agony! And what happiness!
So January, February passed, the Shrovetide came and passed. On forgiveness Sunday, she dressed in all black ("After all, tomorrow is clean Monday!") And invited him to go to the Novodevichy Convent. He looked at her in surprise, and She talked about the beauty and sincerity of the burial of the schismatic archbishop, about the singing of the church choir, which makes the heart flutter, about their lonely visits to the Kremlin cathedrals ... Then they wandered around the Novodevichy cemetery for a long time, visited the graves of Ertel and Chekhov, long and fruitlessly looking for Griboyedov's house, and not finding it, went to Yegorov's tavern in Okhotny Ryad.
The tavern was warm and full of thickly dressed cabbies. “How good,” she said. “And only in some northern monasteries this Russia now remains ... Oh, I'll go somewhere to a monastery, to some of the most deaf!” And she read by heart from ancient Russian legends: “... And the devil brought a flying serpent to his wife for fornication. And this snake appeared to her in human nature, very beautiful ... ". And again he looked with surprise and concern: what happened to her today? All quirks?
For tomorrow she asked to take her to the theatrical skits, although she noticed that there was nothing more vulgar than them. At the skit, she smoked a lot and stared at the actors, grimacing to the laughter of the audience. At first, one of them looked at her with pretended gloomy greed, then, drunkenly leaning to his hand, inquired about her companion: “And what is this handsome man? I hate it "... At three o'clock in the morning, leaving the skit, She either jokingly or seriously said:" He was right. Of course, handsome. "A serpent in human nature, very beautiful ...". And that evening, contrary to usual, she asked to let the carriage go ...
And in a quiet night apartment, she immediately went into the bedroom, rustling the dress she was taking off. He went to the door: she, in nothing but swan's shoes, stood in front of the pier glass, combing her black hair with a tortoiseshell comb. “All he said was that I didn't think much of him,” she said. “No, I thought ...”… And at dawn he woke up from her gaze: “This evening I am leaving for Tver,” she said. - For how long, God only knows ... I'll write everything as soon as I arrive. Forgive me, leave me now ... "
The letter received two weeks later was short - an affectionate but firm request not to wait, not to try to search and see: "I will not return to Moscow, I will go to obedience for now, then, perhaps, I will decide to tonsure ..." And he did not look for a long time disappeared in the dirtiest taverns, drank himself intoxicated, dropping more and more. Then he began to recover a little - indifferently, hopelessly ...
Almost two years have passed since that clean Monday ... On the same quiet evening he left the house, took a cab and went to the Kremlin. I stood for a long time, without praying, in the dark Archangel Cathedral, then I drove for a long time, as then, through the dark alleys and kept crying, crying ...
On Ordynka, he stopped at the gates of the Martha-Mariinsky monastery, in which the girl's choir sang sadly and tenderly. The janitor didn’t want to let it through, but let it go for the ruble, sighing in sorrow. Then from the church appeared icons, banners carried in their arms, a white line of singing nuns stretched out, with candles on their faces. He looked at them attentively, and then one of the walking in the middle suddenly raised her head and fixed her dark eyes into the darkness, as if seeing him. What could she see in the dark, how could she feel His presence? He turned and quietly left the gate.
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"CLEAN MONDAY"
I.A. BUNIN
SUMMARY
Moscow gray winter day turns into evening. Every evening the narrator is driven by a coachman from the Red Gate to the Cathedral of Christ the Savior. A lady lives opposite the temple, whom he takes to dinner and to the theaters. Who she will be for him, he does not know, she is mysterious and incomprehensible, but he is happy with her. She studies in courses, lives alone, constantly learns the beginning of the "Moonlight Sonata".
Every Saturday the storyteller sends her flowers, brings chocolate, new books. This couple is watched everywhere. He is talkative and restless, she is silent and thoughtful. They met at a lecture by Andrei Bely, the narrator turned and laughed so hard that she laughed too. He tells her that she does not love him, she replies that, besides her father and him, she has no one. They drink tea, talking about everything that comes to mind. Arriving in the evening, he kissed her for a long time, then she got ready, not allowing complete intimacy, and they went, for example, to the Metropole, again talking about something else. Immediately after they met, she said that she was not suitable for a wife, he did not talk about marriage, but expected her decision to change. Once, after kissing, he grabbed his head and groaned: "Yes, after all, this is not love, not love ..." She replied that no one knows what love is. He exclaims that he knows and will wait for her to know love and happiness. And again they talk about something else. It is enough for him to be by her side every evening. January, February passed, Maslenitsa passed.
On Forgiveness Sunday, she ordered to come to her at five o'clock in the evening, met him all in black, saying that tomorrow was Pure Monday, and invited him to go to the Novodevichy Convent. The narrator was surprised, she said that yesterday she was at the Rogozhskoye cemetery and walks without him in the morning around the city. But this is not religiosity, but something else. In Novodevichy she says to him with quiet bewilderment: "It's true, how you love me!" They looked at the graves of Ertel and Chekhov. Then we went to look for Griboyedov's house, as well as for the last pancakes to Yegorov's tavern. She says that the Martha and Mary Convent is nearby ... In the tavern, in the room with the icon of the Mother of God of the Three Hands, she says: "You are a gentleman, you cannot understand all this Moscow as I do." At dinner she mentions that she went to the Conception Monastery, where the stichera are wonderfully singing, was in the Chudov Monastery: "Oh, I'll go somewhere to a monastery, to some of the most deaf ones." In despair, he thinks that then he will either leave or stab someone to be sent to Sakhalin, lit a cigarette, forgetting that smoking is prohibited here. With a quiet light in her eyes, she retells the Russian legend about how God tested the princess. The narrator is surprised and dismayed.
When he took her home, she ordered to come tomorrow not earlier than ten, she wants to go to the skits of the Art Theater, although she does not like skits. He arrives at the appointed time and finds her playing the beginning of the Moonlight Sonata, in a black velvet dress. She favorably accepts the attention of men at a skit, on the way to the house, the month seems to her a luminous skull, the chimes are ancient, tin and cast iron. At the entrance, she asks to let the driver go, although before that she had never allowed to go up to her at night. This night was a night of love.
At dawn, she said that she was leaving for her father for an indefinite period, and that she would write as soon as she arrived. Asks to leave her, the narrator leaves, goes to Iverskaya, kneels down and prays. Some old woman takes pity on him: "Oh, don't be killed, don't be killed like that! Sin! Sin!"
Two weeks later, he receives a letter: she asks not to wait for her, intends to go to obedience and then, perhaps, to tonsure. Asks him not to answer, because this will only increase the flour. He drank for a long time, then began to come to his senses indifferently. Almost two years have passed.
On the new year, 1914, he goes to the Kremlin, stands, without praying, in the Archangel Cathedral, then goes to the place where they rode together and cries. Having stopped the cab at the gate of the Martha and Mary Convent, he feels an irresistible desire to go to the church. But the janitor at the gate blocks the road, asks not to go, because there is now "the Grand Duchess Elzavet Fedrovna and grand Duke Mitri Palych. "They let him through for a ruble, but entering the courtyard, he sees the procession, the grand duchessand one of the sisters suddenly lifts her head and looks into the darkness. He understands that this is his beloved.
She somehow sensed his presence and stared straight at him, even though he stood in the dark. The narrator turned and left the gate.
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