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Updated: June 17, 2025
'Really? 'Your turn, your turn, was shrieked at them from all sides. They started and began galloping again right across the room. 'Well, I congratulate you, Kister said to Lutchkov, going up to him after the dance; 'the daughter of the house does nothing but ask questions about you. 'Really? Lutchkov responded scornfully. 'On my honour!
He resolved to sacrifice his feelings the more readily as 'so far I have no other sentiment for her but sincere devotion, thought he. Kister really was capable of sacrificing himself to friendship, to a recognised duty.
'Sir, Fyodor Fedoritch replied, 'I consider your joke stupid and ill-bred do you hear? stupid and ill-bred. 'When shall we fight? Lutchkov responded composedly. 'When you like,... to-morrow. Next morning they fought a duel. Lutchkov wounded Kister slightly, and to the extreme astonishment of the seconds went up to the wounded man, took him by the hand and begged his pardon.
He did not play cards, and did not drink spirits. In the May of 1829, not long before the beginning of the manoeuvres, there joined the regiment a young cornet, Fyodor Fedorovitch Kister, a Russian nobleman of German extraction, very fair-haired and very modest, cultivated and well read.
Kister was the only person who was not disgusted when Lutchkov broke into laughter; the kind-hearted German's eyes shone with the generous delight of sympathy, when he read Avdey his favourite passages from Schiller, while the bully would sit facing him with lowering looks, like a wolf.... Kister danced till he was worn out, Lutchkov never left his corner, scowled, glanced stealthily at Masha, and meeting her eyes, at once threw an expression of indifference into his own.
Masha danced three times with Kister. The enthusiastic youth inspired her with confidence. She chatted with him gaily enough, but at heart she was not at ease. Lutchkov engrossed her thoughts. A mazurka tune struck up. The officers fell to bounding up and down, tapping with their heels, and tossing the epaulettes on their shoulders; the civilians tapped with their heels too.
Masha lifted her head, and turned upon him eyes heavy with unshed tears. 'You don't guess of whom I am speaking? she asked. Scarcely daring to breathe, Kister held out his hand. Masha at once clutched it warmly. 'You are my friend as before, aren't you?... Why don't you answer? 'I am your friend, you know that, he murmured. 'And you are not hard on me? You forgive me?... You understand me?
Masha ceased speaking, and shyly held out her hand to him; Fyodor Fedoritch pressed the tips of her fingers respectfully. 'He must be a very queer person! observed Masha, and again she propped her elbows on the frame. 'Queer? 'Of course; he interests me just because he is queer! Masha added slily. 'Lutchkov is a noble, a remarkable man, Kister rejoined solemnly.
'Well, I know why.... Because I am with you, she added, not looking at Kister. Kister softly pressed her hand. 'But why don't you question me?... Masha murmured in an undertone. 'What about? 'Oh, don't pretend... about my letter. 'I was waiting for...
Masha was vaguely aware that Kister was watching her; she fancied that he pronounced some words with intentional significance; but she was conscious, too, of her own excitement, and did not trust her own observations. 'If only he doesn't mean to stay till evening! was what she was thinking incessantly, and she tried to make him realise that he was not wanted.
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