But there, in the door-way, stood Lida. She was dressed in a style
quite different from her usual one. Instead of a fashionable coiffure,
she wore her hair in a thick plait hanging down her back. Instead of an
elegant costume she was wearing a loose gown of diaphanous texture, the
simplicity of which alluringly heightened the beauty of her form.
As she smiled, her likeness to Sanine became more remarkable, and, in
her sweet, girlish voice she said calmly:
"Here I am. Why are you hurrying away? Victor Sergejevitsch, do put
down your cap!"
Sanine was silent, and looked at his sister in amazement. "Whatever
does she mean?" he thought to himself.
As soon as she appeared, a mysterious influence, at once irresistible
and tender, seemed to make itself felt. Like a lion-tamer in a cage
filled with wild beasts, Lida stood there, and the men at once became
gentle and submissive.
"Well, do you know, Lidia Petrovna ..." stammered Sarudine.
At the sound of his voice, Lida's face assumed a plaintive, helpless
expression, and as she glanced swiftly at him there was great grief at
her heart not unmixed with tenderness and hope.
Pages:
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342