Sanine by Mikhail Artsybashev (ebook pdf reader for pc .TXT) 📕

ever ready to talk at length about himself. He was good-looking, and talked well, so women always felt for him affectionate pity. On this occasion also, if jocular at the outset, Yourii relapsed into his usual tone; discoursing at great length about his own life. From his own description he appeared to be a man of extraordinary powers, cramped and crushed by the force of circumstances, misunderstood by his party, and one who by unlucky chance and human folly was doomed to be just a mere student in exile instead of a leader of the people! Like all extremely self-satisfied persons Yourii entirely failed to perceive that all this in no way proved his extraordinary powers, and that men of genius were surrounded by just such associates, and hampered by just such misfortunes. It seemed to him that he alone was the victim of an inexorable destiny. As he talked well and with great vivacity and point, what he said sounded true enough, so that girls believed him, pitied him, and sympathized with him in his misfortunes. The band was still playing its sad, discordant tunes, the evening was gloomy and depressing, and they all three felt in a melancholy mood. When Yourii ceased talking, Dubova, meditating on her own dull, monotonous existence and vanishing youth without joy or love, asked him in a low voice,

“Tell me, Yourii, has the thought of suicide never crossed your mind?”

“Why do you ask me that?”

“Oh! well, I don’t know⁠ ⁠…”

They said no more.

“You are on the committee, aren’t you?” asked Sina eagerly.

“Yes,” replied Yourii curtly, as if unwilling to admit the fact, but in reality pleased to do so, because he thought that to this charming girl he would appear weirdly interesting. He then walked back with them to their house, and on the way they laughed and talked much. All depression had vanished.

“How nice he is!” said Sina, when Yourii had gone.

Dubova shook her finger threateningly:

“Mind that you don’t fall in love with him.”

“What an idea!” laughed Sina, though secretly afraid.

Yourii reached home in a brighter, more hopeful mood. He went to look at the picture that he had begun. It produced no impression upon him, and he lay down contentedly to sleep. That night in dreams he had visions of fair women, radiant and alluring.

X

On the following evening Yourii went to the same spot where he had met Sina Karsavina and her companion. Throughout the day he had thought with pleasure of his talk with them on the previous evening, and he hoped to meet them again, discuss the same subjects, and perceive the same look of sympathy and tenderness in Sina’s gentle eyes.

It was a calm evening. The air was warm, and a slight dust floated above the streets. Except for one or two passersby, the boulevard was absolutely deserted. Yourii walked slowly along, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“How boring!” he thought. “What am I to do?”

Suddenly Schafroff, the student, walking briskly, and, swinging his arm, approached him with a friendly smile on his face.

“Why are you dawdling along like this, eh?” he asked, stopping short, and giving Yourii a big, strong hand.

“Oh! I am bored to death, and there’s nothing to do. Where are you going?” asked Yourii, in a languid, patronizing tone. He always spoke thus to Schafroff, because, as a former member of the revolutionary committee he looked upon the lad as just an amateur revolutionist. Schafroff smiled as one thoroughly pleased with himself.

“We have got a lecture today,” he said, pointing to a packet of thin pamphlets in coloured wrappers. Yourii mechanically took one, and, opening it, read the long, dry preface to a popular Socialistic address, once well known to him, but which he had quite forgotten.

“Where is the lecture to be given?” he asked with the same slightly contemptuous smile as he handed back the pamphlet.

“At the school,” replied Schafroff, mentioning the one at which Sina Karsavina and Dubova were teachers. Yourii remembered that Lialia had once told him about these lectures, but he had paid no attention.

“May I come with you?” he asked.

“Why, of course!” replied Schafroff, eager to assent to this proposal. He looked upon Yourii as a real agitator, and, overestimating his political abilities, felt a reverence for him that bordered on affection.

“I am greatly interested in such matters.” Yourii felt it necessary to say this, being all the while glad that he had now got an engagement for the evening, and that he would see Sina again.

“Why, yes, of course,” said Schafroff.

“Then, let us go.”

They walked quickly along the boulevard and crossed the bridge, from each side of which came humid airs, and they soon reached the school where people had already assembled.

In the large, dark room with its rows of benches and desks the white cloth used for the magic lantern was dimly visible, and there were sounds of suppressed laughter. At the window, through which could be seen the dark green boughs of trees in twilight, stood Lialia and Dubova. They gleefully greeted Yourii.

“I am so glad that you have come!” said Lialia.

Dubova shook him vigorously by the hand.

“Why don’t you begin?” asked Yourii, as he furtively glanced round, hoping to see Sina.

“So Sinaida Pavlovna doesn’t attend these lectures?” he observed with evident disappointment.

At that moment a lucifer-match flashed close to the lecturer’s desk on the platform, illuminating Sina’s features. The light shone upon her pretty fresh face; she was smiling gaily.

“Don’t I attend these lectures?” she exclaimed, as, bending down to Yourii, she held out her hand. He gladly grasped it without speaking, and leaning lightly on him she sprang from the platform. He felt her sweet, wholesome breath close to his face.

“It is time to begin,” said Schafroff, who came in from the adjoining room.

The school attendant with heavy tread walked round the room, lighting one by one the large lamps which soon shed a bright light. Schafroff opened the door leading to the passage, and said in a loud