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Artzybashev, Mikhail Petrovich, 1878-1927

"Sanine"

I can see that in
your soul discord reigns."
"Discord?" exclaimed Yourii, reddening. He did not know whether he
ought to be angry or riot. Just as it had done during their walk to the
meeting, Sanine's calm, friendly voice pleasantly impressed him.
"Ah! you know yourself that it is so!" replied Sanine, with a smile.
"But it won't do to pay any attention to such childish nonsense. Life's
really too short."
"Look here," shouted Goschienko, purple with rage, "You take far too
much upon yourself!"
"Not more than you do."
"How's that?"
"Think it out for yourself," said Sanine. "What you say and do is far
ruder and more unamiable than anything that I say."
"I don't understand you!"
"That's not my fault."
"What?"
To this Sanine made no reply, but taking up his cap, said:
"I'm off. It is getting a bit too dull for me."
"You're right! And there's no more beer!" added Ivanoff, as he moved
towards the ante-room.
"We shan't get along like this; that's very clear," said Dubova.
"Walk back with me, Yourii Nicolaijevitch," cried Sina.
Then, turning to Sanine, she said "Au revoir!"
For a moment their eyes met.


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