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Artzybashev, Mikhail Petrovich, 1878-1927

"Sanine"


In Lida's heart there arose a vague, fleeting desire to bid tender
farewell to all those bygone hours of love which had once been theirs.
But this feeling she swiftly repressed, as she said in a loud, harsh
voice:
"Good-bye! _Bon voyage_! Don't forget us, Pavel Lvovitsch!"
As they were going, Volochine's remark could be distinctly heard.
"How charming she is! She intoxicates one, like champagne!"
When they had gone, Lida sat down again in the rocking-chair. Her
position was a different one, now, for she bent forward, trembling all
over, and her silent tears fell fast.
"Come, come! What's the matter?" said Sanine, as he took hold of her
hand.
"Oh! don't! What an awful thing life is!" she exclaimed, as her head
sank lower, and she covered her face with her hands, while the soft
plait of hair, slipping over her shoulder, hung down in front.
"For shame!" said Sanine. "What's the use of crying about such
trifles?"
"Are there really no other ... better men, then?" murmured Lida.
Sanine smiled.
"No, certainly not. Man is vile by nature. Expect nothing good from
him.


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