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He gave in, as to violence, to the long-continued caresses, entreaties, and often even to pity. Yet at the same time Liubka, who had rested and felt living, real soil under her, began to improve in looks with unusual rapidity, just as a flower bud, that but yesterday was almost dying, suddenly unfolds after a plentiful and warm rain.
"He's not joking," answered Jennie with a voice which quavered strangely. "He's in earnest, seriously." "Here's my word of honour that I'm serious! Honest to God, now!" the student caught her up with warmth and for some reason even made the sign of the cross in the direction of the empty corner. "And really," said Jennie, "take Liubka. That's not the same thing as taking me.
However, having suffered a few failures, Simanovsky still obstinately continued to act upon the mind and imagination of Liubka. He tried to explain to her the theory of the origin of species, beginning with an amoeba and ending with Napoleon. Liubka listened to him attentively, and during this there was an imploring expression in her eyes: "When will you stop at last?"
Liubka was sleeping on her back, with one bare arm stretched out along the body, and the other on her breast. Lichonin bent nearer, to her very face. She was breathing evenly and deeply. This breathing of her young, healthy body was, despite sleep, pure and almost aromatic. He cautiously ran his fingers over her bare arm and stroked her breast a little below the clavicle.
And the further the novel unfolded, the more passionate and lively an interest did Liubka take in it. She had nothing against Manon's fleecing her subsequent patrons with the help of her lover and her brother, while de Grieux occupied himself with sharping at the club; but her every new betrayal brought Liubka into a rage, while the sufferings of the gallant chevalier evoked her tears.
His guitar and mandolin always hung in the dining room, secured to the nails with ribbons. The guitar, with its soft, warm sounds, drew Liubka more than the irritating, metallic bleating of the mandolin.
What am I doing?" declaimed some honest, prudent, and false body in Lichonin. "Well, now? Are you eased up a bit?" asked Liubka kindly, kissing Lichonin's lips for the last time. "Oh, you, my little student! ..."
The homely, but pleasant-looking face of Liubka, all spotted from freckles, like a cuckoo's egg, lengthened and paled a little. "Well, for God's sake, don't you be angry at me ... You're called Vassil Vassilich, isn't that so? Don't get angry, darling Vassil Vassilich. Really, now, I'll learn fast, I'm quick. And why do you say you and you to me all the time?
And in the meanwhile, my dear, go to the window and look out of it a bit; I just want to put myself in order." Liubka slightly pouted her lips and walked off to the window, turning her back on Lichonin. All these words about friendship, brotherhood and comradeship she could not understand with her brain of a hen and her simple peasant soul.
To his great happiness, Liubka had at last read through almost without faltering: "A good plough has Mikhey, and a good one has Sisoi as well... a swallow... a swing ... the children love God..." And as a reward for this Soloviev read aloud to her Of the Merchant Kalashnikov and of Kiribeievich, Life-guardsman of Czar Ivan the Fourth.
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