..They call you Kolya: isn't that so?"
"Yes."
"Don't be angry at me, carry out a certain caprice of mine,
please: shut your eyes again... no, even tighter, tighter... I
want to turn up the light and have a good look at you. There now,
so... If you only knew how beautiful you are now... right now...
this second. Later you will become coarse, and you will begin
giving off a goatish smell; but now you give off an odour of fur
and milk... and a little of some wild flower. But shut them--shut
your eyes!"
She added light, returned to her place, and sat down in her
favourite pose--Turkish fashion. Both kept silent. In the
distance, several rooms away, a broken-down grand piano was
tinkling; somebody's vibrating laughter floated in; while from the
other side--a little song, and rapid, merry talking. The words
could not be heard. A cabby was rumbling by somewhere through the
distant street...
"And now I will infect him right away, just like all the others,"
pondered Jennka, gliding with a deep gaze over his well-made legs,
his handsome torso of a future athlete, and over his arms, thrown
back, upon which, above the bend of the elbow, the muscles
tautened--bulging, firm.
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