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Updated: May 5, 2025
At that moment, when the sisters were taking leave of the children in the wood, Kirsha felt especially perturbed. In the far corner of the garden he saw a boy in white dress; he ran up to him. They spoke long and quietly. Then Kirsha ran to his father. Giorgiy Sergeyevitch Trirodov was all alone at home. He was lying on the sofa, reading a book by Wilde. Trirodov was forty years old.
Shabalov wanted to discharge the audacious ones. The District School Council did not agree with him. Then followed a long and unpleasant discussion, out of which Shabalov did not issue as conqueror. Trirodov found it painful and difficult to talk with Shabalov. Shabalov said in a slow, creaking voice: "Giorgiy Sergeyevitch, you will have to send your wards to town for examination."
"I did not expect you until Wednesday," replied Trirodov. "Why Wednesday when Tuesday is just as good?" said Ostrov with a savage smile. "Or do you find it so hard to part with your cash? Have you become a bourgeois, Giorgiy Sergeyevitch?"
Elisaveta impetuously flung the door open on the veranda, and ran down the broad steps into the garden. She ran after Trirodov and shouted: "Giorgiy!" It was like the outcry of passionate desire. Trirodov paused, saw her, impetuously white and clear in the moonlight. Elisaveta fell into his arms and kissed him and laughed, and kept on repeating without end: "I love you, I love you, I love you."
Egorka walked up to it and read the inscription: "Boy Giorgiy Antipov." Then the year, month, and date of his death. He was faintly astonished, but an ominous indifference already made captive his soul. Some one touched his shoulder and asked something. Egorka was silent. He looked as if he did not understand. "Come to me," said Trirodov quietly to him.
The cheery, dark-eyed lad looked attentively at Elisaveta, frowned slightly, lowered his eyes, reflected, then again eyed the sisters attentively and sadly, and said: "In the main building, where Giorgiy Sergeyevitch lives, there are more of these quiet children. They are never with us. They are quiet ones. They do not play. They have been ill. It's likely they haven't improved yet. I don't know.
They loved to take long walks. They had already passed several times the house and grounds of Giorgiy Trirodov, whom they had not yet seen once. To-day they wished to go that way again and to try and see what was to be seen. The sisters walked two versts through the wood. They spoke quietly of various things, and felt a little agitated. Curiosity often agitates people.
Ostrov said with a scornful smile: "Will you try your chemistry on him, Giorgiy Sergeyevitch? Well, it's all the same to us. A bad man ought to be punished make even a skeleton of him for your use if you like." Trirodov drew a flagon containing a colourless liquid from his pocket. "Now this will put him to sleep," he said.
I forget my knowledge, I reject my doubts, I become again as simple and as humble as a communicant of a radiant kingdom, like my dear children and I only want your nearness and your kisses. Upon the earth, dear to our heart, I will pass by, in simple and joyous humility, with bare feet, like you in order that I may come to you as you come to me. Love me. "Your GIORGIY."
All the evil rumours and warnings did not prevent Giorgiy Sergeyevitch Trirodov from buying the house. He made changes in it, and then settled here after his comparatively brief educational career had been rudely cut short. It took a long time to rebuild and transform the house. The high walls prevented any one from seeing what was being done there.
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