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Kuprin, A. I. (Aleksandr Ivanovich), 1870-1938

"Yama: the pit"

Jennie
always had such a face when her turbulent soul sensed that a
scandal was nearing which she herself had brought on.
"Don't get your back up, Borinka," said Lichonin. "Here all are
equal."
Niura came with a pillow and laid it down on the divan.
"And what's that for?" Sobashnikov yelled at her. Git! take it
away at once. This isn't a lodging house."
"Now, leave her be, honey. What's that to you?" retorted Jennie in
a sweet voice and hid the pillow behind Tamara's back. "Wait,
sweetie, I'd better sit with you for a while."
She walked around the table, forced Boris to sit on a chair, and
herself got up on his knees. Twining his neck with her arm, she
pressed her lips to his mouth, so long and so vigorously that the
student caught his breath. Right up close to his eyes he saw the
eyes of the woman--strangely large, dark, luminous, indistinct and
unmoving. For a quarter of a second or so, for an instant, it
seemed to him that in these unliving eyes was impressed an
expression of keen, mad hate; and the chill of terror, some vague
premonition of an ominous, inevitable calamity flashed through the
student's brain.


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