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Updated: June 23, 2025
Polunin sat down beside her, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. They were silent. Kseniya Ippolytovna said at last: "You have grown old, Polunin!" "Yes, I have grown old. People do, but there is nothing terrible in that when they have found what they sought for." "Yes, when they have found it.... But what about now? Why do you say that? Is it Alena?" "Why ask?
"I love her, and she has given me a daughter...." "Yes, that is true. And we ... we love, but are childless... We rise in the morning feeling dull and depressed from our revels of overnight, while you were wisely sleeping." Kseniya Ippolytovna's voice rose higher. "'We are the heisha-girls of lantern-light, you remember Annensky?
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.
Outside was the cold blue glare of the snow, which was marked with the imprints of birds' feet, and a vast stretch of clear turquoise sky. The bedroom was large and gloomy; the polished floor was covered with rugs; a canopied double bedstead stood against the further wall; a large wardrobe was placed in a corner. Kseniya Ippolytovna looked haggard and unhappy.
Kseniya Ippolytovna awoke late on that day and did not get up, lying without stirring in bed until dinner time, her hands behind her head. It was a clear, bright day and the sun's golden rays streamed in through the windows, and were reflected on the polished floor, casting wavy shadows over the dark heavy tapestry on the walls.
"You are innocent, Kseniya," he replied. "Oh, there you go again!" she cried impatiently. "Always sin and innocence! I am a stupid woman, full of beliefs and superstitions nothing more like all women. I want to conceive here, to breed and bear a child here. Do you wish to be the father?" She stood up, looking intently into Polunin's eyes.
A new-born wind sighed, stirred, then rose gently from the enchanted caverns of the night and soared up into the sky with the swift flutter of many-plumed wings. Assuredly Kseniya Ippolytovna Enisherlova was not asleep on such a night. The day dawned cold, white, pellucid breathing forth thin, misty vapour, while a hoar-frost clothed the houses, trees, and hedges.
Vera Lvovna was silent, as usual; and soon went to see Natasha. Polunin also was quiet, walking about the room with his hands behind his back. Kseniya Ippolytovna jested in a wilful, merry, and coquettish fashion with Arkhipov, who answered her in a polite, serious, and punctilious manner. He was unable to carry on a light, witty conversation, and was acutely conscious of his own awkwardness.
But she did not offer her hand to Polunin. Kseniya Ippolytovna had greatly changed since that far-off summer. Her eyes, her wilful lips, her Grecian nose, and smooth brows were as beautiful as ever, but now there was something reminiscent of late August in her. Formerly she had worn bright costumes now she wore dark; and her soft auburn hair was fastened in a simple plait.
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