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He will awake for a life free from passions and desires, for clear seeing and hearing, for the establishment of one will." "When will he awake?" asked Elisaveta. "When I wish it," said Trirodov, "I will wake him." The sound of his voice was sad and insistent like the sound of an invocation. "To-night?" asked Elisaveta. "If you wish it," answered Trirodov quietly. "Must I leave?" she asked again.
She laughed and said joyously: "I knew you by your voice alone. Your beard and moustache make you wholly unrecognizable." "They are glued on," explained Trirodov. They conversed. He heard some one whisper behind his back: "That is comrade Elisaveta. She's considered the first beauty in our town."
Elisaveta looked like a rather tall stripling of fourteen in this dress. It was quiet and bright on the river's bank. Elisaveta sat down on a stone at the edge, lowered her feet into the water, and watched the float. A rowing-boat appeared. Elisaveta looked intently and saw that it contained Stchemilov. The latter called out: "I say, my lad, if you belong here, can you tell me if...."
The latter glanced at her and said: "Trirodov, of course. It is strange that we should be waiting for him." "I think he promised to come," said Elena indecisively. "Yes," answered Elisaveta, "I think he said something at that strange mirror." "It was earlier," observed Elena. "Yes, I am mixing it all up," said Elisaveta. "I don't understand how I could forget so quickly."
"And now, my beauty, I'd better tell you that you're expressing yourself a little carelessly. Suppose I whistled suddenly, eh?" "What for?" asked Elisaveta, astonished. "What for-r? Well, some one may come out to my whistle." "What then?" asked Elisaveta. After a short silence Ostrov resumed his threatening tone: "You may be asked to give a few details about what Mr.
He smiled and said: "What shall I say? His revolutionary poems are not bad. Nowadays, however, everybody writes them. As for his other works, they are not written about us. Noblemen's delights are not for us." "It's a long time since I've been here," said Elisaveta. "What a mess you've got here." "A house without a mistress," answered Stchemilov, rather confused.
In the meantime the boat drew nearer. Two men were sitting in it. Aleksei Makarovitch Stchemilov, a young working man, a locksmith by trade, sat at the oars. He was thin and of medium height; there was a suggestion of irony in the shape of his lips. Elisaveta had known Stchemilov since the past autumn, when she became acquainted with other labouring men and party workmen.
Trirodov explained: "Early this morning the coroner had the grave dug up. They found the empty coffin. Luckily, I found out about this in time, before new stupid talk might arise, and gave them the necessary explanation." "What of the boy?" asked Elisaveta. "He will remain with me. He does not wish to go to his mother, and he is not particularly necessary to her she will receive money for him."
Then she ran forward, embraced Elisaveta, and said cheerfully: "And you too, Elisaveta, have grown young." An impetuous joy seized both sisters. They caught each other by the hands and began to dance and to twirl round the room. Then they suddenly felt ashamed. They stopped, and did not know which way to look; they laughed in their confusion. Elisaveta said: "What a stupid pair we are!
Again Elisaveta wrangled with Piotr and, as before, the discussion was long, heated and discordant every one left the table flustered and depressed; the hopeless confusion of it all deeply affected even the usually composed Miss Harrison. The sisters were left by themselves. They went out on the lower balcony and pretended to read. They appeared to be waiting for something.
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