Vassil Vassilich!
Vasinka!
Honest to God!
Honest to God, now, there never was anything of the kind!
I always was so careful!
I was awfully afraid of this.
I love you so!
I would have told you without fail.” She caught his hands, pressed them to her wet face and continued to assure him with the absurd and touching sincerity of an unjustly accused child.
And he at once believed her in his soul.
“I believe you, my child,” he said quietly, stroking her hair. “Don’t excite yourself, don’t cry.
Only let us not again give in to our weakness.
Well, it has happened—let it have happened; but let us not repeat it any more.’
“As you wish,” prattled the girl, kissing now his hands, now the cloth of his coat. “If I displease you so, then, of course, let it be as you wish.”
However, this evening also the temptation was again repeated, and kept on repeating until the falls from grace ceased to arouse a burning shame in Lichonin, and turned into a habit, swallowing and extinguishing remorse.
Chapter 16
Justice must be rendered to Lichonin; he did everything to create for Liubka a quiet and secure existence.
Since he knew that they would have to leave their mansard anyway— this bird house, rearing above the whole city— leave it not so much on account of its inconvenience and lack of space as on account of the old woman Alexandra, who with every day became more ferocious, captious and scolding— he resolved to rent a little bit of a flat, consisting of two rooms and a kitchen, on the Borschhagovka, at the edge of the town.
He came upon an inexpensive one, for nine roubles a month, without fuel.
True, Lichonin had to run very far from there to his pupils, but he relied firmly upon his endurance and health, and would often say:
“My legs are my own.
I don’t have to be sparing of them.”
And, truly, he was a great master at walking.
Once, for the sake of a joke, having put a pedometer in his vest pocket, he towards evening counted up twenty versts; which, taking into consideration the unusual length of his legs, equalled some twenty-five versts.[21] And he did have to run about quite a bit, because the fuss about Liubka’s passport and the acquisition of household furnishings of a sort had eaten up all his accidental winnings at cards.
He did try to take up playing again, on a small scale at first, but was soon convinced that his star at cards had now entered upon a run of fatal ill luck.
By now, of course, the real character of his relations with Liubka was a mystery to none of his comrades; but he still continued in their presence to act out the comedy of friendly and brotherly relations with the girl.
For some reason he could not, or did not want to, realize that it would have been far wiser and more advantageous for him not to lie, not to be false, and not to pretend.
Or, perhaps, although he did know this, he still could not change the established tone.
As for the intimate relations, he inevitably played a secondary, passive role.
The initiative, in the form of tenderness, caressing, always had to come from Liubka (she had remained Liubka, after all, and Lichonin had somehow entirely forgotten that he himself had read her real name— Irene— in the passport).
She, who had so recently given her body up impassively— or, on the contrary, with an imitation of burning passion— to tens of people in a day, to hundreds in a month, had become attached to Lichonin with all her feminine being, loving and jealous; had grown attached to him with body, feeling, thoughts.
The prince was funny and entertaining to her, and the expansive Soloviev interestingly amusing; toward the crushing authoritativeness of Simanovsky she felt a supernatural terror; but Lichonin was for her at the same time a sovereign, and a divinity; and, which is the most horrible of all, her property and bodily joy.
It has long ago been observed, that a man who has lived his fill, has been worn out, gnawed and chewed by the jaws of amatory passions, will never again love with a strong and only love, simultaneously self-denying, pure, and passionate.
But for a woman there are neither laws nor limitations in this respect.
This observation was especially confirmed in Liubka.
She was ready to crawl before Lichonin with delight, to serve him as a slave; but, at the same time, desired that he belong to her more than a table, than a little dog, than a night blouse.
And he always proved wanting, always failing before the onslaught of this sudden love, which from a modest little stream had so rapidly turned into a river and had over-flowed its banks.
And not infrequently he thought to himself, with bitterness and a sneer:
“Every evening I play the role of the beauteous Joseph; still, he at least managed to tear himself away, leaving his underwear in the hands of the ardent lady; but when will I at last get free of my yoke?”
And a secret enmity for Liubka was already gnawing him.
All the more and more frequently various crafty plans of liberation came into his head.
And some of them were to such an extent dishonest, that, after a few hours, or the next day, Lichonin squirmed inwardly from shame, recalling them.
“I am falling, morally and mentally!” he would at times think with horror. “It’s not in vain that I read somewhere, or heard from some one, that the connection of a cultured man with a woman of little intellect will never elevate her to the level of the man, but, on the contrary, will bow him down and sink him to the mental and moral outlook of the woman.”
And after two weeks she ceased to excite his imagination entirely.
He gave in, as to violence, to the long-continued caresses, entreaties, and often even to pity.
Yet at the same time Liubka, who had rested and felt living, real soil under her, began to improve in looks with unusual rapidity, just as a flower bud, that but yesterday was almost dying, suddenly unfolds after a plentiful and warm rain.
The freckles ran off her soft face, and the uncomprehending, troubled expression, like that of a young jackdaw, had disappeared from the dark eyes, and they had grown brighter and had begun to sparkle.
The body grew stronger and filled out; the lips grew red.
But Lichonin, seeing Liubka every day, did not notice this and did not believe those compliments which were showered upon her by his friends.
“Fool jokes,” he reflected, frowning. “The boys are spoofing.”
As the lady of the house, Liubka proved to be less than mediocre.