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"Missyuss, go away," said Lyda to her sister, evidently thinking my words dangerous to so young a girl. Genya looked sadly at her sister and mother and went out. "People generally talk like that," said Lyda, "when they want to excuse their indifference. It is easier to deny hospitals and schools than to come and teach." "True, Lyda, true," her mother agreed.

Seriously and without a smile, she asked him why he did not work for the Zemstvo and why up till now he had never been to a Zemstvo meeting. "It is not right of you, Piotr Petrovich," she said reproachfully. "It is not right. It is a shame." "True, Lyda, true," said her mother. "It is not right." "All our district is in Balaguin's hands," Lyda went on, turning to me.

When she heard from her daughter that I might perhaps come over to Sholkovka, she hurriedly called to mind a few of my landscapes which she had seen in exhibitions in Moscow, and now she asked what I had tried to express in them. Lydia, or as she was called at home, Lyda, talked more to Bielokurov than to me.

At supper Lyda again talked to Bielokurov about the Zemstvo, about Balaguin, about school libraries. She was a lively, sincere, serious girl, and it was interesting to listen to her, though she spoke at length and in a loud voice perhaps because she was used to holding forth at school.

Then she would stop. When we reached home, Bielokurov sat down on the divan and frowned and brooded, and I began to pace up and down the hall, feeling a sweet stirring in me, exactly like the stirring of love. I wanted to talk about the Volchaninovs. "Lyda could only fall in love with a Zemstvo worker like herself, some one who is run off his legs with hospitals and schools," I said.

"You say you will not work," Lyda went on. "Apparently you set a high price on your work, but do stop arguing. We shall never agree, since I value the most imperfect library or pharmacy, of which you spoke so scornfully just now, more than all the landscapes in the world."

Suppose you had ten bits of sugar, and you met ten Prussian dogs, how many lumps would you, a French dog, give to each of the Prussians? Lyda very decidedly replied to this with a cipher. 'But, suppose you divided your sugar with me, how many lumps would you give me? Lyda took up the figure five and politely presented it to her master." "Wasn't she smart?

My God, but we must do something!" said Lyda exasperatedly, and I could tell by her voice that she thought my opinions negligible and despised me. "It is necessary," I said, "to free people from hard physical work.

But Circe's in possession of my heart, I value none but her, and indeed who wears such charms? Compar'd to her, what was Ariadne or Lyda? what Helen, or even Venus? Paris himself the umpire of the wanton nymphs, if with these eyes he had seen her contending for the golden apple, wou'd have given both his Helen and the goddesses for her.

His death at the hospital in the night, with his friends looking on, is powerfully and minutely described. The fat, stupid priest goes through the last ceremonies, and is dully amazed at the contempt he receives from Sanin. Sanin's beautiful sister Lyda is ruined by a worthless but entirely conventional officer.