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Updated: June 23, 2025
Turgenev, whose ideal woman is all gentleness, modesty, and calmness, must have seen many thoroughly corrupt ones, to have been so deeply impressed with a woman's capacity for evil. In "Virgin Soil," when he introduces Mashurina to the reader, he says: "She was a single woman . . . and a very chaste single woman.
"If you had been elsewhere, your humble servant would not have had the pleasure of seeing you here, and of talking to you! My curiosity is due to a bad, old-fashioned habit. But with regard to your name, it is awkward, somehow, simply to say Mashurina. I know that even in letters you only sign yourself Bonaparte! I beg pardon, Mashurina, but in conversation, however "
Mashurina shook back her heavy hair, which was twisted into a small plait at the back, and fell over her eyebrows in front. "Well," she remarked; "if the thing is settled, then there is nothing more to be said." "Of course not. Only one can't do anything without money, and where are we to get it from?" Mashurina became thoughtful. "Nejdanov must get the money," she said softly, as if to herself.
"That is precisely what I have come about," Ostrodumov observed. "Have you got the letter?" Mashurina asked suddenly. "Yes. Would you like to see it?" "I should rather. But never mind, we can read it together presently." "You need not doubt what I say. I am speaking the truth," Ostrodumov grumbled. "I do not doubt it in the least."
"All the same, it will have to be altered afterwards!" Mashurina asked Nejdanov if she might come with him as far as the town, where she had a little shopping to do. "I can walk back afterwards or, if need be, ask the first peasant I meet for a lift in his cart." Solomin must also come. "Oh, by the way, what about those letters you wanted to show me? What is the fellow's name... Kisliakov?"
Ostrodumov looked concentrated and business-like, Nejdanov furious, Paklin intense, and Mashurina as if she were present at holy mass. About two minutes went by in this way, everyone feeling uncomfortable. Paklin was the first to break the silence. "Well?" he began. "Is my sacrifice to be received on the altar of the fatherland?
He began rummaging about in the drawer, while Snandulia went up to Mashurina and with a long, intent look full of sympathy, clasped her hand like a comrade. "Here it is!" Paklin exclaimed and handed her the photograph. Mashurina thrust it into her pocket quickly, scarcely glancing at it, and without a word of thanks, flushing bright red, she put on her hat and made for the door. "Are you going?"
He was surrounded by a sort of mist, which seemed to hang before him like a filmy curtain, separating him from the rest of the world. And through this film, strange to say, he perceived only three faces women's faces and all three were gazing at him intently. They were Madame Sipiagina, Mashurina, and Mariana. What did it mean? Why particularly these three?
"I have a letter for Nejdanov and a message for you, Solomin." "What message? And from whom?" "From someone who is well known to you... Well, is everything ready here?" "Nothing whatever." Mashurina opened her tiny eyes as wide as she could. "Nothing? "Nothing." "Absolutely nothing?" "Absolutely nothing." "Is that what I am to say?" "Exactly."
However, I had better be going, otherwise I shall be late. Tell him that I was here... give him my kind regards. Tell him Mashurina was here. You won't forget my name, will you? Mashurina. And the letter... but say, where have I put it?"
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