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Updated: June 22, 2025
"I must beg of you," he spluttered, ashamed all the while at thus addressing a man with whom till now he had been on friendly terms. "I must beg of you not to mention that. It has nothing whatever to do with this matter." "Hasn't it! though?" replied Sanine. "It has a great deal to do with it." "Yes, but I must ask you," croaked Von Deitz, becoming hysterical. "Really, this is too much!
Thus far Sanine is his masterpiece. Two decades ago, more or less, John M. Robertson published several volumes chiefly concerned with the gentle art of criticism. Mr. Robertson introduced to the English-reading world the critical theories of Emile Hennequin, whose essays on Poe, Dostoïevsky, and Turgenieff may be remembered.
The boat rocked so violently that she well nigh lost her balance, and involuntarily she caught hold of Sanine, after falling almost into his arms. At that moment, almost unconsciously, and never believing it possible, she gently prolonged their contact. It was this touch of her that in a moment fired his blood, while she, sensible of his ardour, irresistibly responded thereto.
"I ought not to weep; I must try and laugh it off, or else he'll guess what is wrong." "Well, why are you so upset?" asked Sanine, as he patted her shoulder tenderly. Lida looked up at him under her hat, timidly as a child, and stopped crying. "I know all about it," said Sanine; "the whole story. I've done so for ever so long."
"Lidia Petrovna would make anybody eloquent," said Tanaroff the silent, as he tried to help Lida to take off her hat, and in so doing ruffled her hair. She pretended to be vexed, laughing all the while. "What?" drawled Sanine. "Are you eloquent too?" "Oh! let them be!" whispered Novikoff, hypocritically, though secretly pleased.
Suddenly the same thought, dreadful but irresistible, came into the minds of all. If only it could all end quickly! If only Semenoff would die! In fear and shame they sought to suppress this wish, exchanging timid glances. "If only this were all over!" said Sanine in an undertone. "Ghastly, isn't it?" "Yes!" replied Ivanoff.
Suddenly Maria Ivanovna felt ashamed that she had read the letter to Lida. Turning very red, she replied unsteadily, but with some irritation: "Thank God, I am not blind! I can see." "See? You can see nothing," said Sanine, after a moment's reflection, "and, to prove it allow me to congratulate you on the engagement of your daughter.
She had fallen over a precipice; and rescue there was none. When Sanine approached her she stared at him in horror and disgust before turning abruptly away. As her cold fingers slightly touched his hand held out in hearty greeting, Sanine at once knew all that she thought and felt. Henceforth they could only be as strangers to each other.
First one and then another face swiftly emerged from the gloom, and then vanished. Sanine, frowning, regarded the dead birds, and, turning away, suddenly rose. The sight of these beautiful creatures lying there in blood and dust, with broken wings, was distasteful to him.
She did not like to hear Sina praised, for she considered herself far prettier, cleverer, and more interesting. "Are you going to sing something?" asked Sanine. "No," she replied, "I am not in voice." "It really is time to be going," observed Riasantzeff, for he remembered that early next morning he must be in the dissecting-room of the hospital.
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