The Little Demon, Fyodor Sologub [reading the story of the TXT] 📗

and the hemlock geranium its pale purple umbrellas. Here bright yellow buttercups and small slipper flowers also flourished.

“Were you at Mass?” asked Vershina.

“Yes, I was,” answered Peredonov gruffly.

“I hear Marta has just returned also,” said Vershina. “She often goes to our church. I often laugh at her. ‘On whose account,’ I say to her, ‘do you go to our church?’ She blushes and says nothing. Let us go and sit in the summerhouse,” she added abruptly.

In the garden, in the shade of the spreading maples, stood an old, grey little summerhouse. It had three small steps and a mossy floor, low walls, six roughly-cut posts, a sloping slate roof with six angles. Marta was sitting in the summerhouse, still in her best clothes. She had on a brightly coloured dress with bows, which were very unbecoming to her. Her short sleeves showed her sharp, red elbows and her large, red hands. In other respects Marta was not unpleasant to look at. Her freckles did not spoil her face; she was even considered something of a beauty, especially by her own people, the Poles, of whom there were a number in the district. Marta was rolling cigarettes for Vershina. She was very anxious for Peredonov to see her and admire her. This desire gave her ingenuous face an expression of agitated affability. It was not that Marta was altogether in love with Peredonov but rather that Vershina wanted to get her a home⁠—for her family was a large one. Marta was anxious to please Vershina, with whom she had lived several months, ever since the death of Vershina’s old husband; not only on her own account but on that of her young brother, a schoolboy, who was also living with Vershina.

Vershina and Peredonov entered the summerhouse. Peredonov greeted Marta rather gloomily, and sat down. He chose a place where one of the posts protected his back from the wind and kept the draught out of his ears. He glanced at Marta’s yellow boots with their rose pompoms and thought that they were trying to entrap him into marrying Marta. He always thought this when he met girls who were pleasant to him. He only noticed faults in Marta⁠—many freckles, large hands and a coarse skin. He knew that her father held a small farm on lease, about six versts from the town. The income was small and there were many children: Marta had left her preparatory school, his son was at school, the other children were still smaller.

“Let me give you some beer,” said Vershina quickly.

There were some glasses, two bottles of beer and a tin box of granulated sugar on the table, and a spoon which had been dipped in the beer lay beside them.

“All right,” said Peredonov abruptly.

Vershina glanced at Marta, who filled the glass and handed it to Peredonov. A half-pleased, half-timorous smile passed over her face as she did this.

“Put some sugar into the beer,” suggested Vershina.

Marta passed Peredonov the tin sugar-box. But Peredonov exclaimed irritatedly:

“No, sugar makes it disgusting!”

“What do you mean?” said Vershina, “sugar makes it delicious.”

“Very delicious,” said Marta.

“I say disgusting!” repeated Peredonov, looking angrily at the sugar.

“As you please,” said Vershina, and changing the subject at once, she remarked with a laugh:

“I get very tired of Cherepnin.”

Marta also laughed. Peredonov looked indifferent: he did not take any interest in other people’s lives⁠—he did not care for people and he never thought of them except as they might contribute to his own benefit and pleasure. Vershina smiled with self-satisfaction and said:

“He thinks that I will marry him.”

“He’s very cheeky,” said Marta, not because she thought so, but because she wished to please and flatter Vershina.

“Last night he looked into our window,” related Vershina. “He got into the garden while we were at supper. There was a rain-tub under the window, full of water. It was covered with a plank. The water was hidden. He climbed on the tub and looked in the window. As the lamp on the table was lighted he could see us, but we couldn’t see him. Suddenly we heard a noise. We were frightened at first and ran outside. The plank had slipped and he had fallen into the water. However, he climbed out before we got there and ran away, leaving wet tracks on the path. We recognised him by his back.”

Marta laughed shrilly and happily like a good-natured child. Vershina told this in her usual quick, monotonous voice and then was suddenly silent, and smiled at the corners of her mouth, which puckered up her smooth, dry face. The smoke-darkened teeth showed themselves slightly. Peredonov reflected a moment and suddenly burst into a laugh. He did not always respond at once to what he thought was funny⁠—his receptivity was sluggish and dull.

Vershina smoked one cigarette after another. She could not live without tobacco smoke under her nose.

“We’ll soon be neighbours,” announced Peredonov.

Vershina glanced quickly at Marta, who flushed slightly and looked at Peredonov with a timorous air of expectation, and then at once turned away towards the garden.

“So you’re moving?” asked Vershina; “why?”

“It’s too far from the gymnasia,” explained Peredonov.

Vershina smiled incredulously.

It’s more likely, she thought, he wants to be nearer Marta.

“But you’ve lived there for several years,” she said.

“Yes,” said Peredonov angrily. “And the landlady’s a swine.”

“Why?” asked Vershina, with an ambiguous smile.

Peredonov grew somewhat animated.

“She’s repapered the rooms most damnably,” he exclaimed, “one piece doesn’t match another. When you open the dining-room door you find quite another pattern. Most of the room has bunches of large and small flowers, while behind the door there is a pattern of stripes and nails. And the colours are different too. We shouldn’t have noticed it, if Falastov had not come and laughed. And everybody laughs at it.”

“It certainly must be ridiculous,” agreed Vershina.

“We’re not telling her that we’re going to leave,” said Peredonov, and at this he lowered his voice. “We’re going to find new apartments and we shall go without giving notice.”

“Of course,” said Vershina.

“Or else she’ll make