Yama, Aleksandr Kuprin [grave mercy TXT] 📗

and a half minutes. Afterwards pour in more boiling water almost up to the top, cover it again, let it stay just a bit, and you have ready, my dear, a divine beverage; fragrant, refreshing, and strengthening.”

The homely, but pleasant-looking face of Liubka, all spotted from freckles, like a cuckoo’s egg, lengthened and paled a little.

“Well, for God’s sake, don’t you be angry at me⁠ ⁠… You’re called Vassil Vassilich, isn’t that so? Don’t get angry, darling Vassil Vassilich. Really, now, I’ll learn fast, I’m quick. And why do you say you and you24 to me all the time? It seems that we aren’t strangers now?”

She looked at him kindly. And truly, she had this morning, for the first time in all her brief but distorted life, given her body to a man⁠—even though without enjoyment but more out of gratitude and pity, yet voluntarily⁠—not for money, not under compulsion, not under threat of dismissal and scandal. And her feminine heart, always unwithering, always drawn to love, like a sunflower to the sun, was at this moment pure and inclined to tenderness.

But Likhonin suddenly felt a prickling, shameful awkwardness and something inimical toward this woman, yesterday unknown to him, today his chance mistress. “The charms of the family hearth have begun,” he thought involuntarily; still, he got up from his chair, walked up to Liubka, and having taken her by the hand, drew her to him and patted her on the head.

“My dear, my darling sister,” he said touchingly and falsely; “that which has happened today must never more be repeated. In everything only I alone am guilty, and, if you desire, I am ready to beg forgiveness of you on my knees. Understand⁠—oh, understand, that all this came about against my will, somehow elementally, suddenly, unexpectedly. And I myself didn’t think that it would be like that! You understand, for a very long time⁠ ⁠… I have not known woman intimately⁠ ⁠… A repulsive, unbridled beast awoke within me⁠ ⁠… and⁠ ⁠… But, Lord, is my fault so great, then? Holy people, anchorites, recluses, ascetics, stylites, hermits in deserts, are no match for me in fortitude of spirit⁠—yet even they fell in the struggle with the temptation of the diabolical flesh. But then, I swear by whatever you wish, that this won’t be repeated any more⁠ ⁠… Isn’t that so?”

Liubka was stubbornly trying to pull his hand away from hers. Her lips had become a little stuck out and the lowered lids began to wink frequently.

“Ye-es,” she drawled, like a child that stubbornly refuses to “make up.” “Well, I can see that I don’t please you. Well, then, you’d best tell me so straight and give me a little for a cab, and some more, now; as much as you want⁠ ⁠… The money for the night is paid anyway, and I only have to ride up to⁠ ⁠… there.”

Likhonin seized his hair, flung himself about the room and began to declaim:

“Ah, not that, not that, not that! Just understand me, Liuba! To go on with that which happened in the morning⁠—that’s⁠ ⁠… that’s swinishness, bestiality, and unworthy of a man who respects himself. Love! Love⁠—this is a full blending of minds, thoughts, souls, interests, and not of the bodies alone. Love is a tremendous, great emotion, mighty as the universe, and not the sprawling in bed. There’s no such love between us, Liubochka. If it’ll come, it will be wonderful happiness both for you and for me. But in the meantime⁠—I’m your friend, your faithful comrade, on the path of life. And that’s enough, and that will do⁠ ⁠… And though I’m no stranger to human frailties, still, I count myself an honest man.”

Liubka seemed to wilt. “He thinks I want him to marry me. And I absolutely don’t need that,” she thought sadly. “It’s possible to live just so. There are others, now, living on maintenance. And, they say, far better than if they had twirled around an altar. What’s so bad about that? Peaceful, quiet, genteel⁠ ⁠… I’d darn socks for him, wash floors, cook⁠ ⁠… the plainer dishes. Of course, he’ll be in line to get married to a rich girl some time. Well, now, to be sure, he wouldn’t throw me out in the street just so, mother-naked. Although he’s a little simpleton, and chatters a lot, still it’s easy to tell he’s a decent man. He’ll provide for me with something, somehow. And, perhaps, he’ll get to like me, will get used to me? I’m a simple girl, modest, and would never consent to be false to him. For, they say, things do fall out that way⁠ ⁠… Only I mustn’t let him see anything. But that he’ll come again into my bed, and will come this very night⁠—that’s as sure as God is holy.”

And Likhonin also fell into thought, grew quiet and sad; he was already feeling the weight of a great deed which he had undertaken beyond his powers. That was why he was even glad when someone knocked on the door, and to his answer, “Come in!”, two students entered: Soloviev, and Nijeradze, who had slept that night at his place.

Soloviev, well-grown and already obese, with a broad, ruddy Volga face and a light, scandent little beard, belonged to those kindly, merry and simple fellows, of which there are sufficiently many in any university. He divided his leisure⁠—and of leisure he had twenty-four hours in the day⁠—between the beer-shop and rambling over the boulevards; among billiards, whist, the theatre, reading of newspapers and novels, and the spectacles of circus wrestling; while the short intervals in between he used for eating, sleeping, the home repair of his wardrobe, with the aid of thread, cardboard, pins and ink; and for succinct, most realistic love with the chance woman from the kitchen, the anteroom or the street. Like all the youths of his circle, he deemed himself a revolutionary, although he was oppressed by political disputes, dissensions, and mutual reproaches; and not being able to stand the reading of revolutionary brochures and journals,