Explore "Boris Lensky" by Ossip Schubin on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Well? " Nikolai cries out to his father.
For an hour he has been sitting in the virtuoso's parlor, impatiently awaiting his return; sits there with a newspaper in his hand, with a high-beating heart, which he tries to persuade that hope is a frivolous deceiver on which one should not rely. One glance at Lensky's face suffices to convince the formerly so obstinate heart.