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Updated: June 13, 2025
Besides Big Volodya, Little Volodya, and Sofya Lvovna, there was a fourth person in the sledge Margarita Alexandrovna, or, as every one called her, Rita, a cousin of Madame Yagitch a very pale girl over thirty, with black eyebrows and a pince-nez, who was for ever smoking cigarettes, even in the bitterest frost, and who always had her knees and the front of her blouse covered with cigarette ash.
To go into the monastery means to renounce life, to spoil it . . . ." Sofya Lvovna began to feel rather frightened; she hid her head under her pillow. "I mustn't think about it," she whispered. "I mustn't. . . ." Yagitch was walking about on the carpet in the next room with a soft jingle of spurs, thinking about something.
She looked at her husband and tried to say good-night to him, but suddenly burst out crying instead. She was vexed with herself. "Well, now then for the music!" said Yagitch. She was not pacified till ten o'clock in the morning. She left off crying and trembling all over, but she began to have a splitting headache.
For the last two months, ever since her wedding, she had been tortured by the thought that she had married Colonel Yagitch from worldly motives and, as it is said, par dépit; but that evening, at the restaurant, she had suddenly become convinced that she loved him passionately.
In the circle in which they moved Yagitch was nicknamed Big Volodya, and his friend Little Volodya.
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