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And as many watermelons as he busts that's out of your share, too...I didn't think it of you, Platonov that you're such a he-dog..." Jennka was waiting for him in the tiny little square, sheltered between a church and the wharf, and consisting of ten sorry poplars. She had on a gray, one-piece street dress; a simple, round, straw hat with a small black ribbon.
I wouldn't help, of course; but I also wouldn't seize you and interfere with you." At this moment the quick-limbed housekeeper Zociya whirled through the corridor with an outcry: "Ladies, get dressed! The doctor has arrived ... Ladies, get dressed! ... Lively, ladies! ..." "Well, go on, Tamara, go on," said Jennka tenderly, getting up.
They had been speaking of this, on and off, for a long time in the establishment; but when the rumours so unexpectedly, immediately right after the death of Jennka, turned into realities, the misses could not for a long time come to themselves for amazement and fear.
Jennka, who had at first been looking on with her customary malicious, disdainful air, suddenly could not stand it; she began to squeal savagely, threw herself upon the housekeeper, clutched her by the hair, tore off her chignon and began to vociferate in a real hysterical fit: "Fool! ... Murderer! ... Low-down go-between! ... Thief! ..."
He walked up to Jennka, respectfully and gently kissed her hand, and said: "If possible, forgive our prank ... This, of course, will not be repeated. But if you ever have need of me, I am always at your service. Here is my visiting card. Don't stick it out on your bureau; but remember, that from this evening on I am your friend."
But here Jennka instantly flared up: "Get out of here right away, you old fool! You rag! You floor mop! ... Your Magdalene asylums they're worse than a prison. Your secretaries use us, like dogs carrion. Your fathers, husbands, and brothers come to us, and we infect them with all sorts of diseases ... Purposely ... And they in their turn infect you.
Is there, now, as they tell us, a paradise or hell? Is that the truth? Or is there just nothing at all? A barren void? A sleep without a dream? A dark basement?" Platonov kept silent, trying not to look at Jennka. He felt oppressed and frightened. "I don't know," said he, finally, with an effort. "I don't want to lie to you." Jennka sighed, and smiled with a pitiful, twisted smile.
"Wait a while, I've recalled it...This was that day I was there together with the students...isn't that so?" "That's right, Sergei Ivanovich, that's so..." "Ah, Jennka," said Platonov reproachfully and with regret. "For do you know, that after this two of the students got sick...Wasn't it from you?" Jennka wrathfully and disdainfully flashed her eyes. "Perhaps even from me...How should I know?
Let's get out of here for a minute. I'll tell you everything. Girls, wait for us a little while." In the light corridor Jennka laid her hands on the shoulders of her mate and with a distorted, suddenly blanched face, said: "Well, then, listen here: some one has infected me with syphilis." "Oh, my poor darling. Long?" "Long. Do you remember, when the students were here?
The beaten-up Liubka kept on crawling before the housekeeper until she was taken back. She knew that Jennka's outbreak would sooner or later be reflected upon her in a cruel repayment. Jennka sat on her bed until the very night, her legs crossed Turkish fashion; refused dinner, and chased out all her mates who went in to her.
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