minute stood as though in a trance, perfectly motionless, and only
her big earrings shook in her ears.

"The first time you can read it," said someone.

It was clear to me that she was trembling, and trembling so much
that she could not speak, and could not unfold her manuscript, and
that she was incapable of acting her part; and I was already on the
point of going to her and saying something, when she suddenly dropped
on her knees in the middle of the stage and broke into loud sobs.

All was commotion and hubbub. I alone stood still, leaning against
the side scene, overwhelmed by what had happened, not understanding
and not knowing what to do. I saw them lift her up and lead her
away. I saw Anyuta Blagovo come up to me; I had not seen her in the
room before, and she seemed to have sprung out of the earth. She
was wearing her hat and veil, and, as always, had an air of having
come only for a moment.

"I told her not to take a part," she said angrily, jerking out each
word abruptly and turning crimson. "It's insanity! You ought to
have prevented her!"

Madame Azhogin, in a short jacket with short sleeves, with cigarette
ash on her breast, looking thin and flat, came rapidly towards me.

"My dear, this is terrible," she brought out, wringing her hands,
and, as her habit was, looking intently into my face. "This is
terrible! Your sister is in a condition. . . . She is with child.
Take her away, I implore you. . . ."