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"Two men against one woman aren't you ashamed?" said Elisaveta. "Don't be ashamed, my lass, and lie down on the grass," exclaimed the handsome, swarthy one, with a laugh very much like a horse's neigh. His white teeth gleamed, his eyes flamed with desire, as he tore Elisaveta's clothes with his hands and his teeth. The red and the white roses of her body were soon bared.
Then came more students, working men, young women, schoolboys, military men, officials, and clerks; each, placing a packet of books on the table, whispered: "Hide them." Each one slipped away. And Elisaveta went to work to hide the books. She put them in the table drawer, in the cupboard, under the sofas, behind the doors, and in the fireplace.
The setting Dragon caressed Elisaveta's face with its warm light; the skin thus suffused exulted in its radiance and bloom. They were silent. Both felt a painful awkwardness. Piotr was nervously breaking twigs from a birch near by. Elisaveta began: "What is it you wish to tell me?" A cold remoteness, almost enmity, sounded in her deeply agitated voice.
And quite suddenly I lost sight of him, and now quite as suddenly I've found him again. Naturally, I'm interested. As an old friend, you see!" "Now, look here," said Elisaveta, "we do not wish to converse with you. You had better go where you were going. We know nothing that would interest you and we have nothing to say to you." "So that's it!" said Ostrov, with an insolent smile.
She looked into the pale light of the mist-wrapt garden dreaming there under the moon. She recalled at this moment the details of the day's walk, and all that they had seen in Trirodov's house; she recalled it all so clearly, with almost the vividness of a hallucination. Then a drowsiness crept up, seized her. And Elisaveta could not recall later how she found herself in her bed.
I will change at your place." She quickly and gaily tripped up the bank. Stchemilov whistled as he sat waiting in the boat. Elisaveta soon reappeared, and deftly jumped into the boat. It was necessary to row past the whole length of the town. No one on either bank recognized Elisaveta in her boy's attire.
Only one boy remained with them. He opened the gate and waited for the sisters to go out so that he could shut it again. Elisaveta quietly asked him: "Who are these?" With a light movement of her head she indicated the bushes, where the boy and the girl were hiding. The cheerful urchin looked in the direction of her glance, then at her, and said: "There's no one there."
A refreshing breeze blew from the river in the night coolness, but now and then there came a sickly, pungent gust of the forest fire. Elisaveta could not fall asleep. She rose from her bed. She stood by the window, and yielded her naked body to the transparent embraces of the nocturnal breeze. She thought of something, mused of something.
The dry faggots and the grass smouldered a long time. The forest caught fire. They seem to be difficult to put out, and sometimes go on for weeks. "What's the matter?" asked Elisaveta. Some one whispered quickly: "Do you hear, it's the Cossacks! I wonder which side they are coming from. It's hard to tell which way to run." "They are coming from town," said some one.
Towards evening Elisaveta sat at Trirodov's. They read poems. Elisaveta loved poems even before she met Trirodov. Who else should love them if not girls? Now she read poems avidly. Whole hours passed by quickly in reading, and the poems gave birth in her to sweet and bitter emotions and passionate dreams.
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