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Updated: June 26, 2025
The more animal an animal is, the less it understands of enjoyment, the less able it is to procure this. It only cares to satisfy its needs. We are all agreed that man was not created in order to suffer, and that suffering is not the ideal of human endeavour." "Quite so," said Sarudine. "Very well, then, enjoyment is the aim of human life.
Taking hold of her round, soft shoulders, which quivered at his touch, he tenderly drew her back to her former place by the hedge, and she obediently submitted. "Come now, what is it that distresses you so?" he said. "Is it because I know all? Or do you think your misconduct with Sarudine so dreadful that you are afraid to acknowledge it? I really don't understand you.
"Yes, yes!" drawled Volochine; to Sarudine his tone seemed to say, "and you're no better, either." "I think I must be going now. I'm staying at the hotel on the boulevard. I may see you again!" Volochine rose to take his leave. At this moment the orderly entered and saluting in slovenly fashion, said, "The young lady is there, sir." Sarudine started. "What?" he cried. "She has come, sir."
"No doubt there will be some nice girls there, whose acquaintance you may care to make," said Lida, mechanically. "Ah! that's good!" said Sanine. "The weather is lovely, too; so let's go!" At the time appointed, Sarudine and Tanaroff drove up in the large lineika belonging to their squadron with two big regimental horses.
"Good evening, Vladimir Petrovitch," said the elder, handsomer and fairer of the two officers, rigid, erect as a spirited stallion, while his spurs clinked noisily. Sanine knew him to be Sarudine, a captain of cavalry, one of Lida's most persistent admirers. The other was Lieutenant Tanaroff, who regarded Sarudine as the ideal soldier, and strove to copy everything he did.
Nothing had become changed, yet all seemed hostile, strange, and infinitely remote. Passers-by stopped and stared. Sarudine instantly shut his eyes in shame and despair. The drive seemed endless. "Faster! faster!" he thought anxiously. Then, however, he pictured to himself the faces of his man-servant, of his landlady, and of the neighbours, which made him wish that the journey might never end.
"What an utter idiot!" he thought, as he took a chair and sat down. "Possibly I might be willing to retract my words in order to please and pacify Sarudine," he began, speaking seriously, "the more so as I attach not the slightest importance to them. But, in the first place, Sarudine, being a fool, would not understand my motive, and, instead of holding his tongue, would brag about it.
She suddenly recollected the refrain of a song that latterly she had been studying; for an instant she thought of Sarudine, and then she saw the face of her mother who seemed doubly dear to her in this awful moment. Indeed it was this last recollection which drove her faster to the river.
Sarudine and Tanaroff went to the piano in the drawing-room, while Lida reclined lazily in the rocking-chair on the veranda. Novikoff, mute, walked up and down on the creaking boards of the veranda floor, furtively glancing at Lida's face, at her firm, full bosom, at her little feet shod in yellow shoes, and her dainty ankles.
"Aha! That's it, is it?" he muttered, breathing hard. "Get out!" said Sanine contemptuously, yet in so terrible a tone that Sarudine glared, and voluntarily drew back. "I don't know what the deuce it all means!" said Volochine, under his breath, as with shoulders raised he hurried to the door. But there, in the door-way, stood Lida. She was dressed in a style quite different from her usual one.
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