CHAPTER XIVZenaida, or Zina Afanassievna, was an individual of an extremely romantic turn of mind.
I don’t know whether it really was that she had read too much of “that fool Shakespeare,” with her “little tutor fellow,” as Maria Alexandrovna insisted; but, at all events she was very romantic. However, never, in all her experience of Mordasoff life, had Zina before made such an ultra-romantic, or perhaps I might call it heroic, display as on the occasion of the sally which I am now about to describe.
Pale, and with resolution in her eyes, yet almost trembling with agitation, and wonderfully beautiful in her anger and scorn, she stepped to the front.
Gazing around at all, defiantly, she approached her mother in the midst of the sudden silence which had fallen on all present. Her mother r
