In Novikoff's soul there was the old strife; he loved Lida, yet he
could not be sure of her feelings towards himself. At times she loved
him, so he thought; and again, there were times when she did not. If he
thought 'yes,' how easy and pleasant it seemed for this young, pure,
supple body to surrender itself to him. If he thought 'no,' such an
idea was foul and detestable; he was angry at his own lust, deeming
himself vile, and unworthy of Lida.
At last be determined to be guided by chance.
"If I step on the last board with my right foot, then I've got to
propose; and if with the left, then--"
He dared not even think of what would happen in that case.
He trod on the last board with his left foot. It threw him into a cold
sweat; but he instantly reassured himself.
"Pshaw! What nonsense! I'm like some old woman! Now then; one, two,
three--at three I'll go straight up to her, and speak. Yes, but what am
I going to say? No matter! Here goes! One, two, three! No, three times
over! One, two, three! One, two--"
His brain seemed on fire, his mouth grew parched, his heart beat so
violently that his knees shook.
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