her black eyes angrily following the footman's movements as he

was drawing the curtains. "Without poetry, mysticism is

superstition; without mysticism, poetry is--prose," she

continued, with a sorrowful smile, still not losing sight of the

footman and the curtains. "Philip, not that curtain; the one on

the large window," she exclaimed, in a suffering tone. Sophia

Vasilievna was evidently pitying herself for having to make the

effort of saying these words; and, to soothe her feelings, she