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Updated: May 6, 2025
"No! death is an awful thing!" he said again, without noticing that he was replying to the mysterious voice. "You're over-nervous about it," observed Ivanoff contemptuously. "Aren't you?" said Yourii. "I? N no! Certainly, I don't want to die, as there's not much fun in it, and living is far jollier. But, if one has to die, I should like it to be quickly, without any fuss or nonsense."
"A woman's just a female," replied Ivanoff, "In every thousand men you might find one worthy to be called a man. But women, bah! They're all alike just little naked, plump, rosy apes without tails!" "Rather smart, that!" said Von Deitz, approvingly. "And true, too," thought Novikoff, bitterly.
At last there appeared on the steps of a little white house with a bright green roof the proprietor of the "Crown" tavern, a tall man in his shirt-sleeves who noisily unlocked the door, while yawning incessantly. A woman wearing a red kerchief on her head slipped in after him. "The very thing!" cried Ivanoff. "Let's go there."
He still felt somewhat ill at ease, and, to hide this, he began to examine the engravings attentively. "Do you like Vasnetzoff?" asked Ivanoff as, without waiting for an answer, he left the room to fetch a plate. Sanine told Peter Ilitsch that Semenoff was dead. "God rest his soul!" droned the latter. "Ah! well, it's all over for him now."
What was left of the previous year's supply of provisions was ample for their needs, and they sold a quantity of oats sufficient to pay their taxes and other expenses. Thus life went smoothly for Ivan. The peasant's next-door neighbor was a son of Gordey Ivanoff, called "Gavryl the Lame."
This, to Ivanoff, as he tossed back his yellow hair, appeared to be the last word in explanation of the tragic occurrence. Personally, it soothed him much. In the graveyard the scene was even more autumnal, where the trees seemed splashed with dull red gold, while here and there the grass showed green through the heaps of withered leaves.
"That's not the point." "Then, what is, pray?" said Ivanoff, his thin lips curled with scorn. "I don't believe in fighting at all, myself, but, if it must be, then one ought to draw the line at severe bodily injuries. That's quite clear." "He almost knocked the other's eye out. I suppose you don't call that severe bodily injury?" retorted Riasantzeff sarcastically.
There was a rustling of paper, and the sound of something that had fallen on the floor. "Aren't you coming?" he asked impatiently. "In a minute," replied Sanine, as his pale face appeared at the window. "Catch hold!" The valise was promptly handed out to Ivanoff and Sanine leapt after it. "Come along!" They went swiftly through the garden, that lay dim and desolate in the dusk.
They were intensely curious to know who the lady was that had come to see Sarudine, Those who guessed that it was Lida Sanina felt instinctively jealous, picturing to themselves her white body in Sarudine's embrace. After a while Sanine got up from the table and said: "I shall not play any more. Good-bye." "Wait a minute, my friend, where are you going?" asked Ivanoff.
Before them lay a meadow where walking barefoot in the long lush grass was an agreeable relief. "How delightful!" cried Ivanoff. "Life's worth living to-day," rejoined his companion. Ivanoff glanced at Sanine; he thought those words must surely remind him of Sarudine and the recent tragedy.
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