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1、"Here's the boy I was talking to you about," he said, indicating the red-haired child."I took the liberty of presuming onyour goodness in his behalf.""Oh," replied Julian Mastakovich, still not quite master of himself."He's my governess's son," our host continued in a
2、beseeching tone."She's a poor creature, the widow of an honestofficial. That's why, if it were possible for you--""Impossible, impossible!" Julian Mastakovich cried hastily."You must excuse me, Philip Alexeyevich, I really cannot.I've made inquiries. There are no vacan
3、cies, and there is a waiting list of ten who have a greater right--I'm sorry.""Too bad," said our host."He's a quiet, unobtrusive child.""A very naughty little rascal, I should say," said Julian Mastakovich, wryly."Go away, boy. Why are you here still? Beoff with you t
4、o the other children."Unable to control himself, he gave me a sidelong glance. Nor could I control myself. I laughed straight in his face. Heturned away and asked our host, in tones quite audible to me, who that odd young fellow was. They whispered toeach other and lef
5、t the room, disregarding me.I shook with laughter. Then I, too, went to the drawing-room. There the great man, already surrounded by the fathersand mothers and the host and the hostess, had begun to talk eagerly with a lady to whom he had just beenintroduced. The lady
6、held the rich little girl's hand. Julian Mastakovich went into fulsome praise of her. He waxedecstatic over the dear child's beauty, her talents, her grace, her excellent breeding, plainly laying himself out to flatterthe mother, who listened scarcely able to restrain
7、tears of joy, while the father showed his delight by a gratified smile.The joy was contagious. Everybody shared in it. Even the children were obliged to stop playing so as not to disturbthe conversation. The atmosphere was surcharged with awe. I heard the mother of the
8、 important little girl, touched toher profoundest depths, ask Julian Mastakovich in the choicest language of courtesy