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Updated: June 12, 2025
Ivan! get the samovar ready for your master, and get up yourself quick, cried the old man. 'That's our way, my good man! Why even the girls are already up! Look out of the window. See, she's going for water and you're still sleeping! Olenin awoke and jumped up, feeling fresh and lighthearted at the sight of the old man and at the sound of his voice. 'Quick, Vanyusha, quick! he cried.
Maryanka crouched like a wild goat with her feet drawn up under her, sometimes on the top of the oven, sometimes in a dark corner. She did not take part in the conversations, but Olenin saw her eyes and face and heard her moving or cracking sunflower seeds, and he felt that she listened with her whole being when he spoke, and was aware of his presence while he silently read to himself.
The voices of several young Cossacks carolled a merry song, and one voice was distinguishable among them all by its firm strength. 'Do you know who is singing there? said the old man, rousing himself. 'It is the Brave, Lukashka. He has killed a Chechen and now he rejoices. And what is there to rejoice at? ... The fool, the fool! 'And have you ever killed people? asked Olenin.
She frowned, and sternly pushed him away with her hand. And again she appeared so majestically handsome to Olenin that he came to his senses and felt ashamed of what he was doing. He went to the door and began pulling at it himself. 'Beletski! Open the door! What a stupid joke! Maryanka again gave a bright happy laugh. 'Ah, you're afraid of me? she said.
I should have tormented myself with the questions: What will become of her, of me, and of Lukashka? Now I don't care. I do not live my own life, there is something stronger than me which directs me. I suffer; but formerly I was dead and only now do I live. Today I will go to their house and tell her everything. Late that evening, after writing this letter, Olenin went to his hosts' hut.
She seemed to radiate virginal strength and health. All the girls were good-looking, but they themselves and Beletski, and the orderly when he brought in the spice-cakes, all involuntarily gazed at Maryanka, and anyone addressing the girls was sure to address her. She seemed a proud and happy queen among them. Olenin felt more and more uncomfortable.
They bought more drink, and boozed and boozed 'Yes, but did it hurt you much? Olenin asked once more. 'Hurt, indeed! Don't interrupt: I don't like it. Let me finish. We boozed and boozed till morning, and I fell asleep on the top of the oven, drunk. When I woke in the morning I could not unbend myself anyhow
Perhaps he really was; but in spite of his pretty, good-natured face, Olenin thought him extremely unpleasant. He seemed just to exhale that filthiness which Olenin had forsworn. What vexed him most was that he could not had not the strength abruptly to repulse this man who came from that world: as if that old world he used to belong to had an irresistible claim on him.
Yeroshka is a living force, a real character, and might have been created by Gogol. Olenin, who is young Tolstoi, and not very much of a man, soliloquises in language that was echoed word for word by the Tolstoi of the twentieth century. "Happiness consists in living for others. This also is clear. Man is endowed with a craving for happiness; therefore it must be legitimate.
But where did you kill those pheasants? asked Olenin. 'I dispatched these three hens in the forest, answered the old man, turning his broad back towards the window to show the hen pheasants which were hanging with their heads tucked into his belt and staining his coat with blood. 'Haven't you seen any? he asked. 'Take a brace if you like!
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