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"Aha!" drawled Ivanoff, as he scratched the back of his head. "But with that we shall deal later on. At the commencement we shall not set ourselves to solve such great " "Or small ..." prompted Dubova. "Problems," continued Goschienko, affecting not to hear. "We shall begin by making out a programme of such works as we intend to read, and I propose to devote the present evening to this purpose."
Then, after they had strolled through the entire garden, they again met, Sina Karsavina being now one of the party, looking charmingly graceful in her light summer dress. "Why are you walking by yourselves, like that?" if asked Dubova. "Come; and join us." "Let us go down one of the side-walks," suggested Schafroff. "Here, it's so terribly crowded."
Splashed with wet mud to the knees, the boy entered, and snatching his cap from his head, said: "The young lady sent me." "Sinotschka," wrote Dubova, "if possible, do come back to town this evening. The Inspector of Schools has arrived, and will visit our school to-morrow morning. It won't look well if you are not there." "What is it?" asked Sina's old aunt. "Olga has sent for me.
He looked thoroughly bored, and when amid the general clamour some of the voices became unduly violent, he got up, and extinguishing his cigarette, said: "I say, do you know, this is getting uncommonly boring!" "Yes, indeed!" cried Dubova. "Sheer vanity and vexation of spirit!" said Ivanoff, who had been waiting for a fitting moment to drag in this favourite phrase of his.
They felt scared, and anxiously hastened towards a dark little window. An old, grey-haired peasant, with a long white beard and wearing a large apron came clattering along the passage in his heavy top-boots to meet them. "Who is it that you wish to see?" he asked, stopping short. "A student has been brought here Semenoff to-day!" stammered Dubova.
"Anatole Pavlovitch says that he will die to-night or to-morrow morning," replied Dubova, in a dull voice. "Shall we go to him?" whispered Sina. "Or do you think that we had better not? I don't know." This was the question uppermost in the minds of them all. Should they go and see Semenoff die? Was it a right or wrong thing to do?
"I am trying to speak in such a way as to be understood by all," replied Schafroff gently. "Very well! Speak as best you can!" said Dubova with a gesture expressing her resignation. Sina Karsavina laughed at Schafroff, too, in her pretty way, tossing back her head and showing her white, shapely throat. Hers was a rich, musical laugh.
They all wanted to go, and yet were fearful of what they should see. Yourii shrugged his shoulders. "Let us go," he said. "Very likely they won't admit us, and perhaps, too " "Perhaps he might wish to see some one," added Dubova, as if relieved. "Come on! We'll go!" said Sina with decision. "Schafroff and Novikoff are there," added Dubova, as if to justify herself.
"Ah! that's because you've nothing to do," said Dubova. "Have you so much to do, then?" "At any rate, I have not the time to weep." "I am not weeping, am I?" "Well," said Dubova, teasing him, "you're in the sulks." "My life," replied Yourii, "has caused me to forget what laughing is." This was said in such a bitter tone that there was a sudden silence.
In the large, dark room with its rows of benches and desks the white cloth used for the magic lantern was dimly visible, and there were sounds of suppressed laughter. At the window, through which could be seen the dark green boughs of trees in twilight, stood Lialia and Dubova. They gleefully greeted Yourii. "I am so glad that you have come!" said Lialia. Dubova shook him vigorously by the hand.
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