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The town lay over hillocks and fields and the ancient quarries, all its energies flowing out from the factory at the further end and a casual conversation which occured in the spring at the beginning of Agrenev's acquaintance with Olya was characteristic alike of the town and of her. Agrenev had said apropos of something: "Balmont, Blok, Brusov, Sologub..."
To her there is but one huge heart in the world and nothing more. Lieutenant Agrenev's quarters were in a distant carriage, Number 30- 35. The Staff Officers' train stood under cover. No one was allowed to strike a light there.
But all the same she did a willow-reed blown in the wind. Agrenev arranged to meet her the next day in the factory office, so that he might hear whether the aunt had created a scene or not, although he did not admit that reason, even to himself. In the ravine when Olya after yielding all wept and clung to his knees, Agrenev's heart had been pierced with pangs of remorse.
His skin jacket was sticking to Agrenev's back, as, no doubt, Bitska's was also. "My missus will soon be home," Bitska said cheerfully he had recently been married. He spoke in broken Russian, with a foreign accent. In Agrenev's house it was dark.
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