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

me, Volodja!” said Novikoff, calling Sanine by his first name which he had never done before. This touched Sanine, and he felt the more anxious to help his friend.

“Well, then, listen,” he began, as he placed his hand in confidential fashion on the other’s knee. “Let us be quite frank. You are going away, because Lida refused you, and because, at Sarudine’s the other day, you had an idea that it was she who came to see him in private.”

Novikoff bent forward, too distressed to speak. It was as if Sanine had reopened an agonizing wound. The latter, noticing Novikoff’s agitation, thought inwardly, “You good-natured old fool!”

Then he continued:

“As to the relations between Lida and Sarudine, I can affirm nothing positively, for I know nothing, but I don’t believe that.⁠ ⁠…” He did not finish the sentence when he saw how dark the other’s face became.

“Their intimacy,” he went on, “is of such recent date that nothing serious can have happened, especially if one considers Lida’s character. You, of course, know what she is.”

There rose up before Novikoff the image of Lida, as he had once known and loved her; of Lida, the proud, high-spirited girl, lustrous-eyed, and crowned with serene, consummate beauty as with a radiant aureole. He shut his eyes, and put faith in Sanine’s words.

“Well, and if they really did flirt a bit, that’s over and ended now. After all, what is it to you if a girl like Lida, young and fancy-free, has had a little amusement of this sort? Without any great effort of memory I expect you could recall at least a dozen such flirtations of a far more dangerous kind, too.”

Novikoff glanced trustfully at Sanine, afraid to speak, lest the faint spark of hope within him should be extinguished. At last he stammered out:

“You know, if I⁠ ⁠…”; but he got no further. Words failed him, and tears choked his utterance.

“Well, if you what?” asked Sanine loudly, and his eyes shone. “I can but tell you this, that there is not and there never has been anything between Lida and Sarudine.”

Novikoff looked at him in amazement.

“I⁠ ⁠… well⁠ ⁠… I thought⁠ ⁠…” he began, feeling, to his dismay, that he could no longer believe what Sanine said.

“You thought a lot of nonsense!” replied Sanine sharply. “You ought to know Lida better than that. What sort of love can there be with all that hesitation and shilly-shallying?”

Novikoff, overjoyed, grasped the other’s hand.

Then, suddenly Sanine’s face wore a furious expression as he closely watched the effect of his words upon his companion.

Novikoff showed obvious pleasure at the thought of the woman he desired being immaculate. Into those honest sorrowful eyes, there came a look of animal jealousy and concupiscence.

“Oho!” exclaimed Sanine threateningly, as he got up. “Then what I have to tell you is this: Lida has not only fallen in love with Sarudine, but she has also had illicit relations with him, and is now enceinte.”

There was dead silence in the room. Novikoff smiled a strange, sickly smile and rubbed his hands. From his trembling lips there issued a faint cry. Sanine stood over him, looking straight into his eyes. The wrinkled corners of his mouth showed suppressed anger.

“Well, why don’t you speak?” he asked.

Novikoff looked up for a moment, but instantly avoided the other’s glance, his features being still distorted by a vacuous smile.

“Lida has just gone through a terrible ordeal,” said Sanine in a low voice, as if soliloquising. If I had not chanced to overtake her, she would not be living now, and what yesterday was a healthful, handsome girl would now be lying in the river-mud, a bloated corpse, devoured by crabs. The question is not one of her death⁠—we must each of us die some day⁠—yet how sad to think that with her all the brightness and joy created for others by her personality would also have perished. Of course, Lida is not the only one in all the world; but, my God! if there were no girlish loveliness left, it would be as sad and gloomy as the grave.

“For my part, I am eager to commit murder when I see a poor girl brought to ruin in this senseless way. Personally, it is a matter of utter indifference to me whether you marry Lida or go to the devil, but I must tell you that you are an idiot. If you had got one sound idea in your head, would you worry yourself and others so much merely because a young woman, free to pick and choose, had become the mistress of a man who was unworthy of her, and by following her sexual impulse had achieved her own complete development? Nor are you the only idiot, let me tell you. There are millions of your sort who make life into a prison, without sunshine or warmth! How often have you given rein to your lust in company with some harlot, the sharer of your sordid debauch? In Lida’s case it was passion, the poetry of youth, and strength, and beauty. By what right, then, do you shrink from her, you that call yourself an intelligent, sensible man? What has her past to do with you? Is she less beautiful? Or less fitted for loving, or for being loved? Is it that you yourself wanted to be the first to possess her? Now then, speak!”

“You know very well that it is not that!” said Novikoff, as his lips trembled.

“Ah! yes, but it is!” cried Sanine. “What else could it be, pray?”

Novikoff was silent. All was darkness within his soul, yet, as a distant ray of light through the gloom there came the thought of pardon and self-sacrifice.

Sanine, watching him, seemed to read what was passing through his mind.

“I see,” he began, in a subdued tone, “that you contemplate sacrificing yourself for her. ‘I will descend to her level, and protect her from the mob,’ and so on. That’s what you are saying to your virtuous self, waxing big in your own eyes as