The only passion of my life was
fear.
(Thomas Hobbes)
Gregorij Alexei Alexandrevik traveled with my heart pounding the avenue of birch trees leading to the gardener's shed. On
hovered around a golden light, bright and pleasant that penetrated even in the shadows. The cakes were cooing incessantly, a lark flew from a branch of to a pink cloud, cloudy Gregorij like a lamp which had seen the night before on the table Natassia Nicolaevna. Natassia
! Only to recall the name of the passionate heart of Gregorij plunged into an abyss where bliss and anguish were entwined, without one could leave the other to the fatal ecstasy of falling. Natassia
! He seemed to hear that name in the lapping of the river, breathing in the range of foliage of the limes, the passionate singing of the cuckoo. Natassia
he repeated quietly, holding her lips every syllable of that name, tasting like the elixir that would give life or take it off. Natassia
! My heart, do not run away from his chest! The gardener's shed
was covered by a blanket of ivy that glowed red in the sunset with shades of ruby \u200b\u200band flame. Mojka, the filly Natassia lazily cropping still hard for the race. So you there! She had come! Heart, a moment still, intimate Gregorij Alexandrevik, approaching the hut. The hand of the young man slowly opened the door, which creaked quietly, as if to prove that it also knew the secret of that meeting. Natassia
Nicolaevna sat on a strain of cherry. The white dress shone in the gloom like an exotic flower mysterious feet and swayed like two little nervous. Natassia
smiled at the young and with a compelling gesture, pulled away from the white front of a lock of hair urchins. The blue eyes sparkled with a seductive light. God, how beautiful! Gregorij Alexandrevik thought, approaching, and admiring, as if for the first time, the delicate oval design sensual mouth, the quiet fullness of the white shoulders. And those restless legs, ankles from those alabaster angel! O my heart!
-So you want my answer? - Natassia said, lowering her eyes.
Heart, hold on, he thought Gregorij Alexandrevik, hearing that voice, that voice that could read the most delicate verses of Pushkin as a waste of tame horses and the whims of servitude. Well my answer
-...- Natassia said. It was silent for a long time.
Heart, hold on! How much grace and modesty, Gregorij thought, this woman who probably does not want to hurt me with a refusal, or perhaps a last moment of ease in pronouncing the words that take away from the place where she was born, the place that lit up with its incomparable beauty.
-My answer is yes, "said Natassia all in one breath-Gregoij Alexandrevik, I'll come with you to St. Petersburg and I'll be your wife.
-Natassia! Natassia! - Gregorij Alexandrevik sighed and said no more.
fell between the ivy crackling and soft moss, scarcely had time to see the feet of approaching Natassia alarmed, then nothing. The passionate heart of
Gregorij Alexandrevik had not resisted.
Bik by the best
fear.
(Thomas Hobbes)
Gregorij Alexei Alexandrevik traveled with my heart pounding the avenue of birch trees leading to the gardener's shed. On
hovered around a golden light, bright and pleasant that penetrated even in the shadows. The cakes were cooing incessantly, a lark flew from a branch of to a pink cloud, cloudy Gregorij like a lamp which had seen the night before on the table Natassia Nicolaevna. Natassia
! Only to recall the name of the passionate heart of Gregorij plunged into an abyss where bliss and anguish were entwined, without one could leave the other to the fatal ecstasy of falling. Natassia
! He seemed to hear that name in the lapping of the river, breathing in the range of foliage of the limes, the passionate singing of the cuckoo. Natassia
he repeated quietly, holding her lips every syllable of that name, tasting like the elixir that would give life or take it off. Natassia
! My heart, do not run away from his chest! The gardener's shed
was covered by a blanket of ivy that glowed red in the sunset with shades of ruby \u200b\u200band flame. Mojka, the filly Natassia lazily cropping still hard for the race. So you there! She had come! Heart, a moment still, intimate Gregorij Alexandrevik, approaching the hut. The hand of the young man slowly opened the door, which creaked quietly, as if to prove that it also knew the secret of that meeting. Natassia
Nicolaevna sat on a strain of cherry. The white dress shone in the gloom like an exotic flower mysterious feet and swayed like two little nervous. Natassia
smiled at the young and with a compelling gesture, pulled away from the white front of a lock of hair urchins. The blue eyes sparkled with a seductive light. God, how beautiful! Gregorij Alexandrevik thought, approaching, and admiring, as if for the first time, the delicate oval design sensual mouth, the quiet fullness of the white shoulders. And those restless legs, ankles from those alabaster angel! O my heart!
-So you want my answer? - Natassia said, lowering her eyes.
Heart, hold on, he thought Gregorij Alexandrevik, hearing that voice, that voice that could read the most delicate verses of Pushkin as a waste of tame horses and the whims of servitude. Well my answer
-...- Natassia said. It was silent for a long time.
Heart, hold on! How much grace and modesty, Gregorij thought, this woman who probably does not want to hurt me with a refusal, or perhaps a last moment of ease in pronouncing the words that take away from the place where she was born, the place that lit up with its incomparable beauty.
-My answer is yes, "said Natassia all in one breath-Gregoij Alexandrevik, I'll come with you to St. Petersburg and I'll be your wife.
-Natassia! Natassia! - Gregorij Alexandrevik sighed and said no more.
fell between the ivy crackling and soft moss, scarcely had time to see the feet of approaching Natassia alarmed, then nothing. The passionate heart of
Gregorij Alexandrevik had not resisted.
Bik by the best
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