Yama: the pit eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 474 pages of information about Yama.

“Get out, you mangy devil, fool, swine, dirt!  I’ll smash your snout for you! ...”

All the lexicon of the establishment had come back to her; but Simanovsky, having lost his pince-nez, his face distorted, was looking at her with blurred eyes and jabbering whatever came into his head: 

“My dear ...  It’s all the same ... a second of enjoyment! ...  You and I will blend in enjoyment! ...  No one will find out! ...  Be mine! ...”

It was just at this very minute that Lichonin walked into the room.

Of course, at soul he did not admit to himself that this minute he would commit a vileness; but only somehow from the side, at a distance, reflected that his face was pale, and that his immediate words would be tragic and of great significance.

“Yes!” he said dully, like an actor in the fourth act of a drama; and, letting his hands drop impotently, began to shake his chin, which had fallen upon his breast.  “I expected everything, only not this.  You I excuse, Liuba—­you are a cave being; but you, Simanovsky ...  I esteemed you ... however, I still esteem you a decent man.  But I know, that passion is at times stronger than the arguments of reason.  Right here are fifty roubles—­I am leaving them for Liuba; you, of course, will return them to me later, I have no doubt of that.  Arrange her destiny ...  You are a wise, kind, honest man, while I am ... ("A skunk!” somebody’s distinct voice flashed through his head.) I am going away, because I will not be able to bear this torture any more.  Be happy.”

He snatched out of his pocket and with effect threw his wallet on the table; then seized his hair and ran out of the room.

Still, this was the best way out for him.  And the scene had been played out precisely as he had dreamt of it.



All this Liubka told at length and disjointedly, sobbing on Jennka’s shoulder.  Of course, in her personal elucidation this tragi-comical history proved altogether unlike what it had been in reality.

Lichonin, according to her words, had taken her to him only to entice, to tempt her; to have as much use as possible out of her foolishness, and then to abandon her.  But she, the fool, had in truth fallen in love—­with him, and since she was very jealous about him and all these tousled girls in leather belts, he had done a low-down thing:  had sent up his comrade on purpose, had framed it up with him, and the other had begun to hug Liubka, and Vasska came in, saw it, and kicked up a great row, and chased Liubka out into the street.

Of course, in her version there were two almost equal parts of truth and untruth; but so, at least, all this had appeared to her.

She also told with great details how, having found herself without masculine support or without anybody’s powerful extraneous influence, she had hired a room In a rather bad little hotel, on a retired street; how even from the first day the boots, a tough bird, a hard-boiled egg, had attempted to trade in her, without even having and Vasska came in, saw it, and kicked up a great row, the hotel to a private room, but even there had been overtaken by an experienced old woman go-between, with whose like the houses inhabited by poverty swarm.

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Yama: the pit from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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