Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume X).djvu/97

Rh 'You mean. . . how?' 'Yes, in what manner?' 'No. . . she was still in such grief. . . I did not venture to question her too much. Was there anything remarkable about it?' 'To be sure there was. Only fancy; she had to appear on the stage that very day, and she acted her part. She took a glass of poison to the theatre with her, drank it before the first act, and went through all that act afterwards. With the poison inside her! Isn't that something like strength of will ? Character, eh? And, they say, she never acted her part with such feeling, such passion! The public suspected nothing, they clapped, and called for her. . . . And directly the curtain fell, she dropped down there, on the stage. Convulsions. . . and convulsions, and within an hour she was dead! But didn't I tell you all about it? And it was in the papers too!' Aratov's hands had grown suddenly cold, and he felt an inward shiver. 'No, you didn't tell me that,' he said at last. 'And you don't know what play it was? Kupfer thought a minute. 'I did hear what the play was. . . there is a betrayed girl in it. . . . Some drama, it must have been. Clara was created for dramatic parts. . . . Her very appearance. . . But where are you off