Yet at the question, "How do you propose to live?" he answered,

smiling, "Oh! somehow or other."

His calm, firm voice, and open glance made one feel that those words,

which meant nothing to his mother, had for him a deep and precise

significance.

Maria Ivanovna sighed, and after a pause said anxiously:

"Well, after all, it's your affair. You're no longer a child. You ought

to walk round the garden. It's looking so pretty now."

"Yes, of course! Come along, Lida; come and show me the garden," said

Sanine to his sister, "I have quite forgotten what it looks like."

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Roused from her reverie, Lida sighed and got up. Side by side they

walked down the path leading to the green depths of the dusky garden.

The Sanines' house was in the main street of the town, and, the town

being small, their garden extended as far as the river, beyond which

were fields. The house was an old mansion, with rickety pillars on

either side and a broad terrace. The large gloomy garden had run to

waste; it looked like some dull green cloud that had descended to

earth. At night it seemed haunted. It was as if some sad spirit were

wandering through the tangled thicket, or restlessly pacing the dusty

floors of the old edifice. On the first floor there was an entire suite

of empty rooms dismal with faded carpets and dingy curtains. Through

the garden there was but one narrow path or alley, strewn with dead

branches and crushed frogs. What modest, tranquil life there was

appeared to be centred in one corner. There, close to the house, yellow

sand and gravel gleamed, and there, beside neat flower-beds bright with

blossom stood the green table on which in summer-time tea or lunch was

set. This little corner, touched by the breath of simple peaceful life,

was in sharp contrast to the huge, deserted mansion, doomed to

inevitable decay.

When the house behind them had disappeared from view and the silent,

motionless trees, like thoughtful witnesses, surrounded them, Sanine

suddenly put his arm round Lida's waist and said in a strange tone,

half fierce, half tender:

"You've become quite a beauty! The first man you love will be a happy

fellow."

The touch of his arm with its muscles like iron sent a fiery thrill

through Lida's soft, supple frame. Bashful and trembling, she drew away

from him as if at the approach of some unseen beast of prey.

They had now reached the river's edge. There was a moist, damp odour

from the reeds that swayed pensively in the stream. On the other side,

fields lay dim in twilight beneath the vast sky where shone the first

pale stars.




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