"Well, for God's sake, don't you be angry at me ... You're called
Vassil Vassilich, isn't that so? Don't get angry, darling Vassil
Vassilich. Really, now, I'll learn fast, I'm quick. And why do you
say you and you [Footnote: In contradistinction to "thou," as used
to familiars and inferiors in Russia.--Trans] to me all the time?
It seems that we aren't strangers now?"
She looked at him kindly. And truly, she had this morning, for the
first time in all her brief but distorted life, given her body to
a man--even though without enjoyment but more out of gratitude and
pity, yet voluntarily--not for money, not under compulsion, not
under threat of dismissal and scandal. And her feminine heart,
always unwithering, always drawn to love, like a sunflower to the
sun, was at this moment pure and inclined to tenderness.
But Lichonin suddenly felt a prickling, shameful awkwardness and
something inimical toward this woman, yesterday unknown to him,
now--his chance mistress. "The charms of the family hearth have
begun," he thought involuntarily; still, he got up from his chair,
walked up to Liubka, and having taken her by the hand, drew her to
him and patted her on the head.
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