Yama by Aleksandr Kuprin (best ereader for pdf TXT) 📕

Liuba. The desire to love⁠—it’s the same as the desire to eat, to drink, and to breathe the air.” He would squeeze her thigh hard, considerably above the knee; and she again, becoming confused and not wishing to offend him, would try almost imperceptibly to move her leg away gradually.

“Tell me, would it be offensive, now, for your sister, mother, or for your husband, that you by chance had not dined at home, but had gone into a restaurant or a cook-shop, and had there satisfied your hunger? And so with love. No more, no less. A physiological enjoyment. Perhaps more powerful, more keen, than all others, but that’s all. Thus, for example, now: I want you as a woman. While you⁠ ⁠…”

“Oh, drop it, Mister,” Liubka cut him short with vexation. “Well, what are you harping on one and the same thing for all the time? Change your act. You’ve been told: no and no. Don’t you think I see what you’re trying to get at? But only I’ll never agree to unfaithfulness, seeing as how Vasilli Vasillievich is my benefactor, and I adore him with all my soul⁠ ⁠… And you’re even pretty disgusting to me with your nonsense.”

Once he caused Liubka a great and scandalous hurt, and all because of his theoretical first principles. As at the university they were already for a long time talking about Likhonin’s having saved a girl from such and such a house; and that now he is taken up with her moral regeneration; that rumour, naturally, also reached the studying girls, who frequented the student circles. And so, none other than Simanovsky once brought to Liubka two female medicos, one historian, and one beginning poetess, who, by the way, was already writing critical essays as well. He introduced them in the most serious and fool-like manner.

“Here,” he said, stretching out his hand, now in the direction of the guests, now of Liubka, “here, comrades, get acquainted. You, Liuba, will find in them real friends, who will help you on your radiant path; while you⁠—comrades Liza, Nadya, Sasha and Rachel⁠—you will regard as elder sisters a being who has just struggled out of that horrible darkness into which the social structure places the modern woman.”

He spoke not exactly so, perhaps; but in any case, approximately in that manner. Liubka turned red, extended her hand, with all the fingers clumsily folded together, to the young ladies in coloured blouses and in leather belts; regaled them with tea and jam; promptly helped them with lights for cigarettes; but, despite all invitations, did not want to sit down for anything. She would say: “Yes-ss, n-no, as you wish.” And when one of the young ladies dropped a handkerchief on the floor, she hurriedly made a dash to pick it up.

One of the maidens, red, stout, and with a bass voice, whose face, all in all, consisted of only a pair of red cheeks, out of which mirth-provokingly peeped out a hint at an upturned nose, and with a pair of little black eyes, like tiny raisins, sparkling out of their depths, was inspecting Liubka from head to feet, as though through an imaginary lorgnette; directing over her a glance which said nothing, but was contemptuous. “Why, I haven’t been getting anybody away from her,” thought Liubka guiltily. But another was so tactless, that she⁠—perhaps for the first time for her, but the hundredth for Liubka⁠—began a conversation about: how had she happened upon the path of prostitution? This was a bustling young lady, pale, very pretty, ethereal; all in little light curls, with the air of a spoiled kitten and even a little pink cat’s bow on her neck.

“But tell me, who was this scoundrel, now⁠ ⁠… who was the first to⁠ ⁠… well, you understand?⁠ ⁠…”

In the mind of Liubka quickly flashed the images of her former mates, Jennka and Tamara, so proud, so brave and resourceful⁠—oh, far brainier than these maidens⁠—and she, almost unexpectedly for herself, suddenly said sharply:

“There was a lot of them. I’ve already forgotten. Kolka, Mitka, Volodka, Serejka, Jorjik, Troshka, Petka, and also Kuzka and Guska with a party. But why are you interested?”

“Why⁠ ⁠… no⁠ ⁠… that is, I ask as a person who fully sympathizes with you.”

“But have you a lover?”

“Pardon me, I don’t understand what you’re saying. People, it’s time we were going.”

“That is, what don’t you understand? Have you ever slept with a man?”

“Comrade Simanovsky,” said the kitten sternly, “I had not presupposed that you would bring us to such a person. Thank you. It was exceedingly charming of you!”

It was difficult for Liubka to surmount the first step. She was of those natures which endure long, but tear loose rapidly; and she, usually so timorous, was unrecognizable at this moment.

“But I know!” she was screaming in wrath. “I know, that you’re the very same as I! But you have a papa, a mamma; you’re provided for, and if you have to, then you’ll even commit abortion⁠—many do so. But if you were in my place, when there’s nothing to stuff your mouth with, and a girlie doesn’t understand anything yet, because she can’t read or write; while all around the men are shoving like he-dogs⁠—then you’d be in a sporting house too. It’s a shame to put on airs before a poor girl⁠—that’s what!”

Simanovsky, who found himself in hot water, said a few general consolatory words in a judicious bass, such as the noble fathers used in olden comedies, and led his ladies off.

But he was fated to play one more very shameful, distressing, and final role in the free life of Liubka.

She had already complained to Likhonin for a long time that the presence of Simanovsky was oppressive to her; but Likhonin paid no attention to womanish trifles: the vacuous, fictitious, wordy hypnosis of Simanovsky was strong within him. There are influences which are difficult to get rid of, almost impossible. On the other hand, he was already for a long time feeling the burden of cohabitation with Liubka. Frequently he