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Updated: June 13, 2025
Their faces expressed honest indignation and a certain shy curiosity. "They're plotting against you," said Ivanoff, somewhat amazed to see the baleful look in Sanine's eyes. Red as a lobster, Schafroff came forward, blinking his eyelids, and approached Sanine, who turned round sharply on his heel, as though he were ready to knock the first man down.
There was a look in his little glassy, grey eyes of unfeigned interest, as if he were being shown a collection of wild beasts. He was specially attracted by Sanine's height, his powerful physique, and his dress. "An interesting type, that! He must be pretty strong!" he thought, with the genuine admiration of the weakling for the athlete.
"Yourii Nicolaijevitch," said Sanine cheerily, "you must not be angry with me because I spoke somewhat bluntly just now. I can see that in your soul discord reigns." "Discord?" exclaimed Yourii, reddening. He did not know whether he ought to be angry or riot. Just as it had done during their walk to the meeting, Sanine's calm, friendly voice pleasantly impressed him.
"Well," replied Sanine, who clearly read the other's thoughts, "perhaps death in that case would be better. Thinking and worrying are of no avail. He only ought to live who finds joy in living; but for him who suffers, death is best." "That is what I thought, too," exclaimed Soloveitchik, and he excitedly grasped Sanine's hand.
Then she began to weep gently, persistently, without freeing herself from Sanine's embrace. Her tears were for that which was irretrievable. Fear and pity for herself, and fondness for him made her weep. Sanine lifted her up and set her on his knee. She meekly submitted like some sorrowful child. As in a dream she could hear him gently comforting her in a tender, grateful voice.
"How is it that you are here?" asked Riasantzeff. "Oh! Kousma Prokorovitch and I are old friends," explained Sanine, smiling the more. Kousma laughed, showing the yellow stumps of his decayed teeth as he slapped Sanine's knee good-naturedly with his rough hand. "Yes, yes," he said. "Sit down here, Anatole Pavlovitch, and taste this melon. And you, my young master, what is your name?"
Lida left the window and sat down mechanically on her bed. She trembled in every limb, unable to collect her thoughts, and the sound of Sanine's footsteps on the grass outside set her heart beating violently. "Am I going mad?" she asked herself in disgust. "How awful! A chance phrase like that to put such thoughts into my head! Is this erotomania? Am I really so bad, so depraved?
When the meal was at an end, Sanine's mother patted his head affectionately, and said: "Now, tell us all about your life, and what you did there." "What I did?" said Sanine, laughing. "Well, I ate, and drank, and slept; and sometimes I worked; and sometimes I did nothing!"
"Soloveitchik Sanine," said Von Deitz, introducing the two, and grasping the former's cold, trembling hand. Soloveitchik laughed nervously. "So pleased to meet you!" he said. "I have heard so much about you, and, you know " He stumbled backwards still holding Sanine's hand. In doing so he fell Against Yourii, and trod on Von Deitz's foot.
But his voice, even to himself, was inaudible. When they reached the fields, it was quite dark. Their pathway was lit by vivid flashes, and the thunder never ceased. "Oh! Ha! Ho!" shouted Sanine. "What's that?" cried Ivanoff. At that moment a vivid flash revealed to him Sanine's radiant face, the only answer to his question.
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