He's become a thief, well, you help him. He's a beggar,
but still you go with him. What is there out of the way, that
there's only a crust of black bread, so long as there's love?
She's low down, and she's low down, that's what! But I, in his
place, would leave her; or, instead of crying, give her such a
drubbing that she'd walk around in bruises for a whole month, the
varmint!"
The end of the novel she could not manage to hear to the finish
for a long time, and always broke out into sincere warm tears, so
that it was necessary to interrupt the reading; and the last
chapter they overcame only in four doses.
The calamities and misadventures of the lovers in prison, the
compulsory despatch of Manon to America and the self-denial of de
Grieux in voluntarily following her, so possessed the imagination
of Liubka and shook her soul, that she even forgot to make her
remarks. Listening to the story of the quiet, beautiful death of
Manon in the midst of the desert plain, she, without stirring,
with hands clasped on her breast, looked at the light; and the
tears ran and ran out of her staring eyes and fell, like a shower,
on the table.
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