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Updated: May 3, 2025
After a minute Little White Manka came in her brown, smooth, deliberately modest dress of a high school girl. "What did you call me for, Jennie? Or have you quarreled?" "No, we haven't quarreled, Mannechka, but my head aches very much," answered Jennka calmly, "and for that reason my little friend finds me very cold. Be a friend, Mannechka, stay with him, take my place!"
Jennka hid her eyes with her hands and started breathing hard, and it could be seen how under the skin of her cheeks the taut muscles of the jaws were working. "Jennechka, all my hope is only in you," said Liubka with a deep expression of weary helplessness. "Everybody respects you so. Talk it over, dearie, with Anna Markovna or with Simeon ... Let them take me back."
Tamara was listening intently to the long familiar, but now long unheard words, and was smiling bitterly. The passionate, mad words of Jennka came back to her, full of such inescapable despair and unbelief ... Would the all-merciful, all-gracious Lord forgive or would He not forgive her foul, fumy, embittered, unclean life?
Jennka was silent for a while; drank one more wine-glass; sucked the sugar, and, still looking out at the street, suddenly asked: "Tell me, please, Tamara, I've never asked you about it from where did you get in here, into the house?
The main thing was the necessity of finishing as soon as possible the inspection in one establishment, in order to pass on to another, to a third, a ninth, a twentieth... "Susannah Raitzina!" the doctor finally called out. No one walked up to the table. All the inmates of the house began to exchange glances and to whisper. "Jennka ... Where's Jennka? ..." But she was not among the girls.
Finally, Jennka got up, and, without looking at Platonov, extended her cold, feeble hand to him. "Good-bye, Sergei Ivanovich! Excuse me, that I took up your time ... Oh, well, I can see myself that you'd help me, if you only could ... But, evidently, there's nothing to be done here ... Good-bye!" "Only don't do anything foolish, Jennechka! I implore you! ..."
"And me a stewdent. He was teaching the master's boys in our place. There, where I was a servant ..." "No, but I ..." exclaimed Niura, but, turning around unexpectedly, remained as she was with her mouth open. Looking in the direction of her gaze, Jennka had to wring her hands.
"It's immaterial to me," he answered in a quavering voice; and, having embraced with his arm the hot, dry body of Jennka, he stretched with his lips toward her face. She slightly repulsed him. "Wait, bear a while, sweetheart we have time enough to kiss our fill yet. Just lie still for one little minute... So, now... quiet, peaceful... don't stir..."
And ours, besides that, is old and stupid..." And suddenly, with some unusual effort of the will Jennka stopped her tears just as unexpectedly as she had started crying. "Come to me, Tamarochka," she said. "Of course, you won't chatter too much?" "Of course not." And they returned into Jennka's room, both of them calm and restrained. Simeon walked into the room.
This was a letter from Jennka, written in a round, naive, rolling, childish handwriting, and not very well spelt. "Sergei Ivanich. Forgive me that I disturbe you. I must talk over a very, very important matter with you. I would not be troubling you if it was Trifles. For only 10 minutes in all. Jennka, whom you know, from Anna Markovna's." Platonov got up.
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