Leonti took Raisky on one side, gave him a letter for Juliana Andreevna, and begged him to seek her out.
“Speak to her conscience,” he said. “If she agrees to return, telegraph to me, and I will travel to Moscow to meet her.”
Raisky promised, but advised him, in the meantime, to rest and to spend the winter with Tushin.
The whole party surrounded the travelling carriage. Marfinka wept copiously, and Vikentev had already provided her with no less than five handkerchiefs. When Raisky had taken his seat he looked out once more, and exchanged glances with Tatiana Markovna, with Vera and with Tushin. The common experience and suffering of the six months, which had drawn them so closely together, passed before his vision with the rapidity, the varying tone and colour, and the vagueness of a dream.
CHAPTER XXXVII
As soon as Raisky reached St. Petersburg he hurried off to find Kirilov. He felt an impulse to touch his friend to assure himself that Kirilov really stood before him, and that he had not started on the journey without him. He repeated to him his ardent confidence that his artistic future lay in sculpture.
“What new fancy is this?” asked Kirilov, frowning and plainly expressing his mistrust. “When I got your letter I thought you were mad. You have one talent already; why do you want to follow a sidetrack. Take your pencil, go to the Academy, and buy this,” he said, showing him a thick book of lithographed anatomical drawings. “What do you want with sculpture? It is too late.”
“I feel I have the right touch here,” he said, rubbing his fingers one against the other.