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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Yes," Mariana replied, a little surprised. "With Nejdanov?" "Yes." "Please give me your hand... and forgive me. You must be good since he loves you." Mariana pressed Mashurina's hand. "Have you known him long?" "I knew him in St. Petersburg. That was what made me talk to you. Sergai Mihailovitch has also told me " "Oh Markelov! Is it long since you've seen him? "No, not long.
But then... I am going away... who knows if we shall ever meet again... I wanted to say goodbye to you." Nejdanov pressed her cold, red fingers. "You know the man who was here today," he began. "I have come to terms with him, and am going with him. His place is down in the province of S., not far from the town itself." A glad smile lit up Mashurina's face. "Near S. did you say?
He dropped into a chair with the same fixed look, humming softly to himself and every now and again shaking back his wavy hair, began writing line after line, sometimes scratching out and rewriting. The door leading into the passage opened slightly and Mashurina's head appeared. Nejdanov did not notice her and went on writing.
Am I not also capable of self-sacrifice? Just wait, gentlemen, and you too, Paklin. I will show you all that although I am aesthetic and write verses " He pushed back his hair with an angry gesture, ground his teeth, undressed hurriedly, and jumped into the cold, damp bed. "Goodnight, I am your neighbour," Mashurina's voice was heard from the other side of the door.
She had no desire to go to Tatiana and work; she wanted to wait alone. And she sat waiting obstinately, almost angrily. From time to time her mood seemed strange and incomprehensible even to herself... Never mind. "Am I jealous?" flashed across her mind, but remembering poor Mashurina's figure she shrugged her shoulders and dismissed the idea.
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