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Updated: June 4, 2025
A thrill of animal lust shot through his frame, and enticing pictures rose up before his heated imagination. Yet, controlling himself, he answered, in a dry voice: "No; it is time that we were at home." Then he added, maliciously: "Lialia is waiting for us." Riasantzeff collapsed. "Oh, yes, of course; yes, we ought to be back by now!" he hastily muttered.
It was the consciousness of a climax, desired, inevitable, and yet disturbing, which should close the page of her past life and commence that of her new one. So new, indeed, that Lialia was to become an entirely different being. To Yourii it was strange that his merry, laughing sister should have become so quiet and pensive.
It pained him to hear the dead man spoken of thus. "Well I can understand why Sarudine did it," said Lialia, "but Soloveitchik? I never would have thought it possible! What was the reason?" "God knows!" replied Ivanoff. "He was always a bit queer." At that moment Riasantzeff drove up, and meeting Sina Karsavina on the doorstep, they came upstairs together.
"Perhaps you know something about him?" she said suddenly. There was a suggestion of pain in her voice, which puzzled Yourii. "Oh! no," he said, "not at all. What should I know about Anatole Pavlovitch?" "But you would not have spoken like that, otherwise," persisted Lialia.
This favourite expression of Schafroff's, "eh, what?" reminded Lialia of her object in coming to her brother's room, and she glanced hopefully at Yourii. "Why not? It's a very good idea!" she replied, wondering why Yourii avoided her glance. After Lialia's torrent of tears and the gloomy thoughts which had harassed him all night long, Yourii felt too depressed to speak to his sister.
Lialia, her cheek propped against one of the cold, damp pillars of the veranda, let the rain beat upon her bare head, so that her hair was wet through. "My princess is displeased ... Lialitschka!" said Riasantzeff, as he drew her closer to him, and lightly kissed moist, fragrant hair.
Yourii watched him with flashing eyes, being hardly able to control himself and ready on the slightest chance to open the quarrel. Lialia was almost in tears. She glanced imploringly from her brother to her father. Riasantzeff at last understood the situation, and he felt so sorry for Lialia, that, clumsily enough, he turned the talk into another channel. Slowly, tediously, the evening passed.
Then after a pause, she added softly, "and where is Anatole Pavlovitch? I heard you drive up." "Your Anatole Pavlovitch is a dirty beast!" is what Yourii, feeling suddenly incensed, would have liked to say. However, he answered carelessly: "I really don't know. He had to see a patient." "A patient," repeated Lialia mechanically. She said no more, but gazed at the stars.
"Besides, what others are like does not interest me in the least." "One can hardly say that," observed Novikoff. "Why not, if it is the truth?" "A fine truth, indeed!" exclaimed Lialia, shaking her head. "The finest I know, anyhow," replied Ivanoff for Sanine. Lida, who had been singing loudly, suddenly stopped, looking vexed. "They don't seem in any hurry," she said.
"No!" he replied, his eyes fixed on the faint blue mist about the river, "No! I don't want to go to sleep. I shall go out for a while." "As you like," said Lialia, in her sweet, gentle voice. Stretching herself, she half closed her eyes like a cat, smiled at the moonlight, and went in.
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