Page 117 - the-idiot

he looked at the portrait for the first time; the impression
had not left him. It was partly the fact of her marvellous
beauty that struck him, and partly something else. There
was a suggestion of immense pride and disdain in the face
almost of hatred, and at the same time something confid-
ing and very full of simplicity. The contrast aroused a deep
sympathy in his heart as he looked at the lovely face. The
blinding loveliness of it was almost intolerable, this pale
thin face with its flaming eyes; it was a strange beauty.
The prince gazed at it for a minute or two, then glanced
around him, and hurriedly raised the portrait to his lips.
When, a minute after, he reached the drawing-room door,
his face was quite composed. But just as he reached the door
he met Aglaya coming out alone.
‘Gavrila Ardalionovitch begged me to give you this,’ he
said, handing her the note.
Aglaya stopped, took the letter, and gazed strangely into
the prince’s eyes. There was no confusion in her face; a little
surprise, perhaps, but that was all. By her look she seemed
merely to challenge the prince to an explanation as to how
he and Gania happened to be connected in this matter. But
her expression was perfectly cool and quiet, and even con-
descending.
So they stood for a moment or two, confronting one an-
other. At length a faint smile passed over her face, and she
passed by him without a word.
Mrs. Epanchin examined the portrait of Nastasia Phil-
ipovna for some little while, holding it critically at arm’s
length.

11 The Idiot