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Updated: June 23, 2025
But he's gone away now." "Where to?" "Where he was ordered." Mariana sighed. "Oh, Miss Mashurina, I fear for him." "In the first place, I'm not miss. You ought to cast off such manners. In the second, you say... 'I fear, and that you must also cast aside. If you do not fear for yourself, you will leave off fearing for others. You must not think of yourself, nor fear for yourself.
Come in," an equally coarse woman's voice responded from the adjoining room. "Is that Mashurina?" asked the newcomer. "Yes, it is I. Are you Ostrodumov? "Pemien Ostrodumov," he replied, carefully removing his goloshes, and hanging his shabby coat on a nail, he went into the room from whence issued the woman's voice.
Besides several people in the town already know that he's here." "Really?" "Yes. Somebody must have let it out. Besides Nejdanov has been recognised." "For all the dressing up!" Solomin muttered to himself. "Allow me to introduce you," he said aloud, "Miss Sinitska, Miss Mashurina! Won't you sit down?" Mashurina nodded her head slightly and sat down.
They both ceased speaking and, as before, clouds of smoke rose silently from their mouths and curled feebly above their shaggy heads. A sound of goloshes was heard from the passage. "There he is," Mashurina whispered. The door opened slightly and a head was thrust in, but it was not the head of Nejdanov.
They married over a year ago. It was merely for the sake of formality at first, but now they say she really is his wife." Mashurina gave another impatient gesture. There was a time when she was jealous of Mariana, but now she was indignant with her for having been false to Nejdanov's memory. "I suppose they have a baby by now," she said in an offhanded tone. "I really don't know.
Then we may see each other again perhaps. They might send us there!" Mashurina sighed. "Oh, Alexai Dmitritch " "What is it?" Nejdanov asked. Mashurina looked intense. "Oh, nothing. Goodbye. It's nothing." She squeezed Nejdanov's hand a second time and went out. "There is not a soul in St. Petersburg who is so attached to me as this eccentric person," he thought.
Mashurina stood up, turned round as though she were rummaging in her pockets for the letter, and quickly raising a small piece of folded paper to her lips, swallowed it. "Oh, dear me! What have I done with it? Have I lost it? I must have dropped it. Dear me! Supposing some one should find it! I can't find it anywhere. It's turned out exactly as Sergai Mihailovitch wanted after all!"
I don't think Alexai is coming... I'll give you the letter. It's no use waiting any longer. "I will give it him, you may be sure." Mashurina rested her cheek in her hand and for a long, long time did not speak. "Tell me," she began, "forgive me for asking... do you love him?" "Yes." Mashurina shook her heavy head. "There is no need to ask if he loves you.
"Look again," Mariana whispered. Mashurina waved her hand. "It's no good. I've lost it." Mariana came up to her. "Well, then, kiss me." Mashurina suddenly put her arms about Mariana and pressed her to her bosom with more than a woman's strength. "I would not have done this for anybody," she said, a lump rising in her throat, "against my conscience... the first time!
"And what is Solomin doing?" Mashurina asked. She had suddenly ceased wishing to hear Paklin talk about him. "Solomin!" Paklin exclaimed. "He's a clever chap! turned out well too. He's left the old factory and taken all the best men with him. There was one fellow there called Pavel could do anything; he's taken him along too.
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