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Отмена
Mávra
Kuzmínichna
flicked
the
dust
off
the
clavichord
and
closed
it
,
and
with
a
deep
sigh
left
the
drawing
room
and
locked
its
main
door
.
Going
out
into
the
yard
she
paused
to
consider
where
she
should
go
next
--
to
drink
tea
in
the
servants
'
wing
with
Vasílich
,
or
into
the
storeroom
to
put
away
what
still
lay
about
.
She
heard
the
sound
of
quick
footsteps
in
the
quiet
street
.
Someone
stopped
at
the
gate
,
and
the
latch
rattled
as
someone
tried
to
open
it
.
Mávra
Kuzmínichna
went
to
the
gate
.
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"
Who
do
you
want
?
"
"
The
count
--
Count
Ilyá
Andréevich
Rostóv
.
"
"
And
who
are
you
?
"
"
An
officer
,
I
have
to
see
him
,
"
came
the
reply
in
a
pleasant
,
well-bred
Russian
voice
.
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Mávra
Kuzmínichna
opened
the
gate
and
an
officer
of
eighteen
,
with
the
round
face
of
a
Rostóv
,
entered
the
yard
.
"
They
have
gone
away
,
sir
.
Went
away
yesterday
at
vespertime
,
"
said
Mávra
Kuzmínichna
cordially
.
The
young
officer
standing
in
the
gateway
,
as
if
hesitating
whether
to
enter
or
not
,
clicked
his
tongue
.