She had
quicker movements and a sharper look than the stenographer and
she bore strong resemblance to her father. Anna was the prettier
of the two. We went down into the dining-room, where we found
Russian tea, cake, and preserves.
Presently we were joined by George, an insurance-collector, who
was between Anna and Sasha, and Emil, an artist employed on a
Sunday paper, who was between Anna and Elsie. Emil was a
handsome fellow with a picturesque face which betrayed his
vocation. The crayons and the pen-and-ink drawings that I had
seen in the library were his work. He had a pale, high forehead and
a thick, upright grove of very soft, brown hair which I pictured as
billowing in a breeze like a field of rye. "Just the kind of son for a
poet to have," I thought
There was another son, Moissey. He was married and I did not see
him that evening. His mother was continually referring to him
"I can see that you miss him," I said
"I should say so," Anna broke in. "He's her pet."
"Don't mind what she says, Mr. Levinsky," her mother exhorted
me.
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