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Updated: May 15, 2025
"You are so very silent, a perfect diplomat.... What is it like in the fields to-day? Cold? Warm? Tea will be served in a moment." There was a pause. At last Polunin broke the silence. "Yes, it was bitterly cold, but fine." After a further pause he added: "When we last talked together you did not say all that was in your mind. Say it now."
Polunin went to her quickly, took her hands, then dropped them; his eyes were very observant, his voice quiet and serious. "Kseniya, you must not grieve, you must not." "Do you love me?" "As a woman no, as a fellow-creature I do," he answered firmly. She smiled, dropped her eyes, then moved to the sofa, sat down and arranged her dress, then smiled again. "I want to be pure." "And so you are!"
His face darkened, he raised a silencing arm, and firmly repeated: "I never drink wine, and I do not intend to." Kseniya gazed into the depths of his eyes and said softly: "I want you to, I beg you.... Do you hear?" "I will not," Polunin whispered back. Then she cried out: "He doesn't want to! We mustn't make him against his will!"
A lantern burned dimly on the wall; from the horses' nostrils issued grey, steamy cloudlets; Podubny, the stallion, rolled a great wondering eye round on his master, as though inquiring what he was doing. Polunin locked the stable; then stood outside in the snow for a while, examining the bolts.
Dmitri Vladimirovich, is that you?" cried a woman's muffled voice: it sounded a great way off through the instrument. "Yes, but who is speaking?" "Kseniya Ippolytovna Enisherlova is speaking", the voice answered quietly; then added in a higher key: "Is it you, my ascetic and seeker? This is me, me, Kseniya." "You, Kseniya Ippolytovna?" Polunin exclaimed joyfully.
"I was packing up for Nice, where a lover expected me, when suddenly I felt an overwhelming desire for a babe, a dear, sweet, little babe of my own, and I remembered you .... Then I travelled here, to Russia so as to bear it in reverence.... I am able to do so now!..." Polunin rose and stood close to Kseniya Ippolytovna: his expression was serious and alarmed. "Don't beat me," she murmured.
"Supposing a distracted woman who desired to be pure were to come and ask you for a baby would you give her the same answer as Polunin? He said it was impossible, that it was sin, that he loved someone else. Would you answer like that, Arkhipov, knowing it was the woman's last her only chance of salvation her only love?" She looked eagerly from one to the other.
"I have never made one without love. And I love only Alena. I must go." "Oh, what cruel, ascetical egoism!" she cried violently. Then suddenly all her rage died down, and she sat quietly in the chair, covering her face with her hands. Polunin stood by, his shoulders bowed, his arms hanging limply. His face betrayed grief and anxiety.
She became silent, folded her hands and laid them against her cheek; for a moment she had a sorrowful, forlorn expression. "Continue, Kseniya Ippolytovna", Polunin urged. "I was driving by our fields and thinking how life here is as simple and monotonous as the fields themselves, and that it is possible to live here a serious life without trivialities. You know what it is to live for trivialities.
Anthony, and as Polunin spoke he imperceptibly led the conversation to the subject of St. Francis d'Assisi. He had just been reading the Saint's works, and was much attracted by his ascetical attitude towards the world. Then the conversation flagged. It was late when the Arkhipovs left, and Polunin accompanied them home.
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