Yama, Aleksandr Kuprin [grave mercy TXT] 📗

never drink⁠ ⁠… I occupy myself very carefully with the care of my body; and the main thing, the very main thing⁠—I don’t allow myself ever to be carried away with men⁠ ⁠…”

“Well, but what about your Senka?⁠ ⁠…”

“Senka⁠—that’s a horse of another colour; the heart of woman is foolish, inconsistent⁠ ⁠… Can it possibly live without love? And even so, I don’t love him, but just so⁠ ⁠… a self-deception⁠ ⁠… But, however, I shall be in very great need of Senka soon.”

Jennka suddenly grew animated and looked at her friend with curiosity.

“But how did you come to get stuck right here, in this hole? So clever, handsome, sociable⁠ ⁠…”

“I’d have to take a long time in telling it⁠ ⁠… And then I’m too lazy⁠ ⁠… I got in here out of love; I got mixed up with a certain young man and tackled a revolution with him. For we always act so, we women: where the dearie is looking, there we also look; what the dearie sees, that we also see⁠ ⁠… I didn’t believe at soul in his work, but I went. A flattering man he was; smart, a good talker, a good looker⁠ ⁠… Only he proved to be a skunk and a traitor afterwards. He played at revolution; while he himself gave his comrades away to the gendarmes. A stool-pigeon, he was. When they had killed and shown him up, then all the foolishness left me. However, it was necessary to conceal myself⁠ ⁠… I changed my passport. Then they advised me, that the easiest thing of all was to screen myself with a yellow ticket⁠ ⁠… And then the fun began!⁠ ⁠… And even here I’m on a sort of pasture ground; when the time comes, the successful moment arrives⁠—I’ll go away!”

“Where?” asked Jennie with impatience.

“The world is big⁠ ⁠… And I love life!⁠ ⁠… There, now, I was the same way in the convent: I lived on and I lived on; sang antiphonies and dulias, until I had rested up, and had finally grown weary of it; and then all at once⁠—hop! and into a cabaret⁠ ⁠… Wasn’t that some jump? The same way out of here⁠ ⁠… I’ll get into a theatre, into a circus, into a corps de ballet⁠ ⁠… but do you know, Jennechka, I’m drawn to the thieving trade the most, after all⁠ ⁠… Daring, dangerous, hard, and somehow intoxicating⁠ ⁠… It’s drawing me⁠—the game of it!⁠ ⁠… Don’t you mind that I’m so respectable and modest, and can appear an educated young lady. I’m entirely, entirely different.”

Her eyes suddenly blazed up, vividly and gaily.

“There’s a devil dwells in me!”

“It’s all very well for you,” pensively and with weariness pronounced Jennie. “You at least desire something, but my soul is some sort of carrion⁠ ⁠… I’m twenty-five years old, now; but my soul is like that of an old woman, shrivelled up, smelling of the earth⁠ ⁠… And if I had only lived sensibly!⁠ ⁠… Ugh!⁠ ⁠… There was only some sort of slush.”

“Drop it, Jennka; you’re talking foolishly. You’re smart, you’re original; you have that special power before which men crawl and creep so willingly. You go away from here, too. Not with me, of course⁠—I’m always single⁠—but go away all by your own self.”

Jennka shook her head and quietly, without tears, hid her face in her palms.

“No,” she responded dully, after a long silence, “no, this won’t work out with me: fate has chewed me all up!⁠ ⁠… I’m not a human being any more, but some sort of dirty cud⁠ ⁠… Eh!” she suddenly made a gesture of despair. ‘Let’s better drink some cognac, Jennechka,’ ” she addressed herself, “ ‘and let’s suck the lemon a little!⁠ ⁠…’ Brr⁠ ⁠… what nasty stuff!⁠ ⁠… And where does Annushka always get such abominable stuff? If you smear a dog’s wool with it, it will fall off⁠ ⁠… And always, the low-down thing, she’ll take an extra half. Once I somehow ask her⁠—‘What are you hoarding money for?’ ‘Well, I,’ she says, ‘am saving it up for a wedding. What sort,’ she says, ‘of joy will it be for my husband, that I’ll offer him up my innocence alone! I must earn a few hundreds on top of that.’ She’s happy!⁠ ⁠… I have here, Tamara, a little money in the little box under the mirror; you pass it on to her, please⁠ ⁠…”

“And what are you about, you fool; do you want to die, or what?” sharply, with reproach, said Tamara.

“No, I’m saying it just so, if anything happens⁠ ⁠… Take it, now, take the money! Maybe they’ll take me off to the hospital⁠ ⁠… And how do you know what’s going to take place there? I left myself some small change, if anything happens⁠ ⁠… And supposing that I wanted to do something to myself in downright earnest, Tamarochka⁠—is it possible that you’d hinder me?”

Tamara looked at her fixedly, deeply, and calmly. Jennie’s eyes were sad, and as though vacant. The living fire had become extinguished in them, and they seemed turbid, just as though faded, with whites like moonstone.

“No,” Tamara said at last, quietly but firmly. “If it was on account of love, I’d interfere; if it was on account of money, I’d talk you out of it; but there are cases where one must not interfere. I wouldn’t help, of course; but I also wouldn’t seize you and interfere with you.”

At this moment the quick-limbed housekeeper Zociya whirled through the corridor with an outcry:

“Ladies, get dressed! The doctor has arrived⁠ ⁠… Ladies, get dressed!⁠ ⁠… Lively, ladies!⁠ ⁠…”

“Well, go on, Tamara, go on,” said Jennka tenderly, getting up. “I’ll run into my room for just a minute⁠—I haven’t changed my dress yet, although, to tell the truth, this also is all one. When they’ll be calling out for me, and I don’t come in time, call out, or run in after me.”

And, going out of Tamara’s room, she embraced her by the shoulder, as though by chance, and stroked it tenderly.

Doctor Klimenko⁠—the official city doctor⁠—was preparing in the parlor everything indispensable for an inspection⁠—vaseline, a solution of sublimate, a little mirror, and other things⁠—and was placing them on a separate little table. Here also were arranged