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Updated: June 24, 2025
Lutchkov swayed up and down in his low chair, screwed up his eyes, stretched, and putting down Kister's emotion to jealousy, was almost gasping with delight. But it was not jealousy that was torturing Kister; he was wounded, not by the fact itself, but by Avdey's coarse carelessness, his indifferent and contemptuous references to Masha.
But he too is your friend.... I'm ashamed, Kister.... He your friend.... That man behaved to me yesterday, as if... Masha turned away. Kister's eyes flamed; he turned pale. 'Oh, never mind, don't be angry.... Listen, Fyodor Fedoritch, don't be angry. It's all for the best. I am very glad of yesterday's explanation... yes, that's just what it was, added Masha.
But when he had driven half a mile from the Perekatovs' house, he stood up in the carriage, and with vague uneasiness began looking for the lighted windows.... All in the house was dark as in the tomb. Next day at eleven o'clock in the morning Kister's second, an old major of tried merit, came for him.
She took him for an exceptional man, and felt overawed by him and agitated in his presence, fancied she did not understand him, and was unworthy of his confidence; miserably, drearily but continually she thought of him. Kister's society, on the contrary, soothed her and put her in a good humour, though it neither overjoyed nor excited her.
Avdey Ivanovitch did not address a remark to her; Kister's voice showed agitation. He laughed and chattered a little over-much.... They reached the stream. A couple of yards or so from the bank there was a water-lily, which seemed to rest on the smooth surface of the water, encircled by its broad, round leaves. 'What a beautiful flower! observed Masha.
You're not laughing at a girl who made an appointment only yesterday with one man, and to-day is talking to another, as I am talking to you.... You're not laughing at me, are you?... Masha's face glowed crimson, she clung with both hands to Kister's hand.... 'Laugh at you, answered Kister: 'I... I... why, I love you... I love you, he cried. Masha hid her face.
'Pick me that flower, that one... how pretty it is! Masha admired it, and suddenly, swiftly withdrawing her hand from his arm, with an anxious smile she began carefully sticking the tender stalk in the buttonhole of Kister's coat. Her slender fingers almost touched his lips. He looked at the fingers and then at her.
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