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"Come, I won't, Lyubotchka, I won't," she added, nimbly squatting

on her heels beside the child and passing her fingers through her hair.

The laughter vanished from Raissa's face and her lips, the corners of

which twisted upwards in a particularly charming way, became motionless

again. The child was pacified. Raissa got up.

"So you will do what you can, about the glass I mean, Davidushka.

But I do regret the wood, and the goose, too, however old it may be."

"They would certainly give you ten roubles," said David, turning the

telescope in all directions. "I will buy it of you, what could be

better? And here, meanwhile, are fifteen kopecks for the chemist's....

Is that enough?"

"I'll borrow that from you," whispered Raissa, taking the fifteen

kopecks from him.

"What next? Perhaps you would like to pay interest? But you see I

have a pledge here, a very fine thing.... First-rate people, the English."

"They say we are going to war with them."

"No," answered David, "we are fighting the French now."

"Well, you know best. Take care of it, then. Good-bye, friends."

XIV

Here is another conversation that took place beside the same fence.

Raissa seemed more worried than usual.

"Five kopecks for a cabbage, and a tiny little one, too," she said,

propping her chin on her hand. "Isn't it dear? And I haven't had the

money for my sewing yet."

"Who owes it you?" asked David.

"Why, the merchant's wife who lives beyond the rampart."

"The fat woman who goes about in a green blouse?"

"Yes, yes."

"I say, she is fat! She can hardly breathe for fat. She positively

steams in church, and doesn't pay her debts!"

"She will pay, only when? And do you know, Davidushka, I have fresh

troubles. Father has taken it into his head to tell me his dreams--you

know he cannot say what he means: if he wants to say one word, it

comes out another. About food or any everyday thing we have got used

to it and understand; but it is not easy to understand the dreams even

of healthy people, and with him, it's awful! 'I am very happy,' he

says; 'I was walking about all among white birds to-day; and the Lord

God gave me a nosegay and in the nosegay was Andryusha with a little

knife,' he calls our Lyubotchka, Andryusha; 'now we shall both be

quite well,' he says. 'We need only one stroke with the little knife,

like this!' and he points to his throat. I don't understand him, but I

say, 'All right, dear, all right,' but he gets angry and tries to

explain what he means. He even bursts into tears."

"But you should have said something to him," I put in; "you should

have made up some lie."

"I can't tell lies," answered Raissa, and even flung up her hands.

And indeed she could not tell lies.

"There is no need to tell lies," observed David, "but there is no need

to kill yourself, either. No one will say thank you for it, you know."

Raissa looked at him intently.

"I wanted to ask you something, Davidushka; how ought I to spell

'while'?"

"What sort of 'while'?"

"Why, for instance: I hope you will live a long while."

"Spelclass="underline" w-i-l-e."

"No," I put in, "w-h-i-l-e."

"Well, it does not matter. Spell it with an h, then! What does matter

is, that you should live a long while."

"I should like to write correctly," observed Raissa, and she flushed a

little.

When she flushed she was amazingly pretty at once.

"It may be of use.... How father wrote in his day ... wonderfully! He

taught me. Well, now he can hardly make out the letters."

"You only live, that's all I want," David repeated, dropping his voice

and not taking his eyes off her. Raissa glanced quickly at him and

flushed still more.

"You live and as for spelling, spell as you like.... Oh, the devil,

the witch is coming!" (David called my aunt the witch.) "What ill-luck

has brought her this way? You must go, darling."

Raissa glanced at David once more and ran away.

David talked to me of Raissa and her family very rarely and

unwillingly, especially from the time when he began to expect his

father's return. He thought of nothing but him and how we should live

together afterwards. He had a vivid memory of him and used to describe

him to me with particular pleasure.

"He is big and strong; he can lift three hundred-weight with one

hand.... When he shouted: 'Where's the lad?' he could be heard all

over the house. He's so jolly and kind ... and a brave man! Nobody can

intimidate him. We lived so happily together before we were ruined.

They say he has gone quite grey, and in old days his hair was as red

as mine. He was a strong man."

David would never admit that we might remain in Ryazan.

"You will go away," I observed, "but I shall stay."

"Nonsense, we shall take you with us."

"And how about my father?"

"You will cast off your father. You will be ruined if you don't."

"How so?"

David made me no answer but merely knitted his white brows.

"So when we go away with father," he began again, "he will get a good

situation and I shall marry."

"Well, that won't be just directly," I said.

"No, why not? I shall marry soon."

"You?"

"Yes, I; why not?"

"You haven't fixed on your wife, I suppose."

"Of course, I have."

"Who is she?"

David laughed.

"What a senseless fellow you are, really? Raissa, of course."

"Raissa!" I repeated in amazement; "you are joking!"

"I am not given to joking, and don't like it."

"Why, she is a year older than you are."

"What of it? but let's drop the subject."

"Let me ask one question," I said. "Does she know that you mean to

marry her?"

"Most likely."

"But haven't you declared your feelings?"

"What is there to declare? When the time comes I shall tell her. Come,

that's enough."

David got up and went out of the room. When I was alone, I pondered ...

and pondered ... and came to the conclusion that David would act

like a sensible and practical man; and indeed I felt flattered at the

thought of being the friend of such a practical man!

And Raissa in her everlasting black woollen dress suddenly seemed to

me charming and worthy of the most devoted love.

XV

David's father still did not come and did not even send a letter. It

had long been summer and June was drawing to its end. We were wearing