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Updated: July 4, 2025
"All that I meant was well," Yourii stopped short, feeling half ashamed, "well, we men, generally speaking, are all thoroughly depraved, all of us." Lialia was silent for a while, and then burst out laughing. "Oh! yes, I know that!" she exclaimed. Her laughter to him seemed quite out of place.
"Yes, indeed I do!" persisted Lialia. "Her voice is beautiful and melodious, and so are her poems; she herself is a beauty; her name, even, is beautiful and melodious." "Oh! my goodness! What more can you say than that!" cried Ivanoff. "But I am quite of your opinion." At all these compliments Sina blushed with pleasure and confusion. "It is time to go home," said Lida abruptly.
Yourii suspected something. "From whom?" he asked, sharply, "From Sinotschka Karsavina," said Lialia, shaking her finger at him, significantly. Yourii blushed deeply. To receive through his sister a little pink, scented letter like this seemed utterly silly; in fact ridiculous. It positively annoyed him.
Nobody could understand why he had done it; though they all imagined that they knew, and that in their inmost souls they held of his thoughts a share. There seemed something so beautiful about suicide, of which tears, flowers, and noble words were the sequel. Of his own relatives not one attended the funeral. His father had had a paralytic stroke, and Lialia could not leave him for a moment.
And Lialia's whole life seemed to her utterly unhappy; the future was hopeless, the past all dark. When the maid-servant came to call her to breakfast, Lialia, though she heard the words, failed to understand their meaning. Afterwards, at table, she felt confused when her father spoke to her.
Now, after all, Riasantzeff is not to blame for having loved other women before Lialia, but because he still carries on with several; and that is not what I do." The thought made Yourii feel very proud and pure, but only for a moment, for he suddenly recollected his seductive vision of sweet, supple girls in sunlight. He was utterly overwhelmed. His mind became a chaos of conflicting thoughts.
You mustn't cry like that! What is the matter? Perhaps Anatole Pavlovitch is better than the rest, Lialia!" he repeated in despair. Lialia, still sobbing, shook violently, and he teeth rattled against the rim of the glass. "What is the matter, miss?" asked the maid-servant in alarm, as she appeared in the doorway.
Lialia understood this movement of her father's. She was afraid of scenes, and tried to change the conversation. "How foolish of me," she thought, "not to have remembered to tell Anatole!" But Riasantzeff did not know the real facts, and, replying to Lialia's invitation to have some tea, he again began to question Yourii. "And what do you think of doing now?"
Lialia, as she walked beside him, prattled in sentimental fashion about his attachment to Sina, just as sisters will, who are intensely interested in their brothers' love-affairs. She said how fond she was of Sina, and how delighted she would be if they made a match of it, and got married.
"Who else shall we ask?" asked Riasantzeff, equally pleased at the prospect of a day's outing. In the woods he would be able to hold Lialia in his arms, to kiss her, and feel that the sweet body he coveted was near. "Let us see. We are six. Suppose we ask Schafroff?" "Who is he?" inquired Yourii. "Oh! he's a young student."
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