Love and Other Stories. Anton Pavlovich Chekhov
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Название: Love and Other Stories

Автор: Anton Pavlovich Chekhov

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 4057664172075

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СКАЧАТЬ Natalya Stepanovna,’ I asked her, ‘how I once brought you in the park a bouquet with a note in it? You read my note, and such a look of bewilderment came into your face. …’

      “ ‘No, I don’t remember that,’ she said, laughing. ‘But I remember how you wanted to challenge Florens to a duel over me. …’

      “ ‘Well, would you believe it, I don’t remember that. …’

      “ ‘Well, that’s all over and done with …’ sighed Kisotchka. ‘At one time I was your idol, and now it is my turn to look up to all of you. …’

      “From further conversation I learned that two years after leaving the high school, Kisotchka had been married to a resident in the town who was half Greek, half Russian, had a post either in the bank or in the insurance society, and also carried on a trade in corn. He had a strange surname, something in the style of Populaki or Skarandopulo. … Goodness only knows—I have forgotten. … As a matter of fact, Kisotchka spoke little and with reluctance about herself. The conversation was only about me. She asked me about the College of Engineering, about my comrades, about Petersburg, about my plans, and everything I said moved her to eager delight and exclamations of, ‘Oh, how good that is!’

      “We went down to the sea and walked over the sands; then when the night air began to blow chill and damp from the sea we climbed up again. All the while our talk was of me and of the past. We walked about until the reflection of the sunset had died away from the windows of the summer villas.

      “ ‘Come in and have some tea,’ Kisotchka suggested. ‘The samovar must have been on the table long ago. … I am alone at home,’ she said, as her villa came into sight through the green of the acacias. ‘My husband is always in the town and only comes home at night, and not always then, and I must own that I am so dull that it’s simply deadly.’

      “I followed her in, admiring her back and shoulders. I was glad that she was married. Married women are better material for temporary love affairs than girls. I was also pleased that her husband was not at home. At the same time I felt that the affair would not come off. …

      “We went into the house. The rooms were smallish and had low ceilings, and the furniture was typical of the summer villa (Russians like having at their summer villas uncomfortable heavy, dingy furniture which they are sorry to throw away and have nowhere to put), but from certain details I could observe that Kisotchka and her husband were not badly off, and must be spending five or six thousand roubles a year. I remember that in the middle of the room which Kisotchka called the dining-room there was a round table, supported for some reason on six legs, and on it a samovar and cups. At the edge of the table lay an open book, a pencil, and an exercise book. I glanced at the book and recognised it as ‘Malinin and Burenin’s Arithmetical Examples.’ It was open, as I now remember, at the ‘Rules of Compound Interest.’

      “ ‘To whom are you giving lessons?’ I asked Kisotchka.

      “ ‘Nobody,’ she answered. ‘I am just doing some. … I have nothing to do, and am so bored that I think of the old days and do sums.’

      “ ‘Have you any children?’

      “ ‘I had a baby boy, but he only lived a week.’

      “We began drinking tea. Admiring me, Kisotchka said again how good it was that I was an engineer, and how glad she was of my success. And the more she talked and the more genuinely she smiled, the stronger was my conviction that I should go away without having gained my object. I was a connoisseur in love affairs in those days, and could accurately gauge my chances of success. You can boldly reckon on success if you are tracking down a fool or a woman as much on the look out for new experiences and sensations as yourself, or an adventuress to whom you are a stranger. If you come across a sensible and serious woman, whose face has an expression of weary submission and goodwill, who is genuinely delighted at your presence, and, above all, respects you, you may as well turn back. To succeed in that case needs longer than one day.

      “And by evening light Kisotchka seemed even more charming than by day. She attracted me more and more, and apparently she liked me too, and the surroundings were most appropriate: the husband not at home, no servants visible, stillness around. … Though I had little confidence in success, I made up my mind to begin the attack anyway. First of all it was necessary to get into a familiar tone and to change Kisotchka’s lyrically earnest mood into a more frivolous one.

      “ ‘Let us change the conversation, Natalya Stepanovna,’ I began. 'Let us talk of something amusing. First of all, allow me, for the sake of old times, to call you Kisotchka.’

      “She allowed me.

      “ ‘Tell me, please, Kisotchka,’ I went on, ‘what is the matter with all the fair sex here. What has happened to them? In old days they were all so moral and virtuous, and now, upon my word, if one asks about anyone, one is told such things that one is quite shocked at human nature. … One young lady has eloped with an officer; another has run away and carried off a high-school boy with her; another—a married woman—has run away from her husband with an actor; a fourth has left her husband and gone off with an officer, and so on and so on. It’s a regular epidemic! If it goes on like this there won’t be a girl or a young woman left in your town!’

      “I spoke in a vulgar, playful tone. If Kisotchka had laughed in response I should have gone on in this style: ‘You had better look out, Kisotchka, or some officer or actor will be carrying you off!’ She would have dropped her eyes and said: ‘As though anyone would care to carry me off; there are plenty younger and better looking. …’ And I should have said: ‘Nonsense, Kisotchka—I for one should be delighted!’ And so on in that style, and it would all have gone swimmingly. But Kisotchka did not laugh in response; on the contrary, she looked grave and sighed.

      “ ‘All you have been told is true,’ she said. ‘My cousin Sonya ran away from her husband with an actor. Of course, it is wrong. … Everyone ought to bear the lot that fate has laid on him, but I do not condemn them or blame them. … Circumstances are sometimes too strong for anyone!’

      “ ‘That is so, Kisotchka, but what circumstances can produce a regular epidemic?’

      “ ‘It’s very simple and easy to understand,’ replied Kisotchka, raising her eyebrows. ‘There is absolutely nothing for us educated girls and women to do with ourselves. Not everyone is able to go to the University, to become a teacher, to live for ideas, in fact, as men do. They have to be married. … And whom would you have them marry? You boys leave the high-school and go away to the University, never to return to your native town again, and you marry in Petersburg or Moscow, while the girls remain. … To whom are they to be married? Why, in the absence of decent cultured men, goodness knows what sort of men they marry—stockbrokers and such people of all kinds, who can do nothing but drink and get into rows at the club. … A girl married like that, at random. … And what is her life like afterwards? You can understand: a well-educated, cultured woman is living with a stupid, boorish man; if she meets a cultivated man, an officer, an actor, or a doctor—well, she gets to love him, her life becomes unbearable to her, and she runs away from her husband. And one can’t condemn her!’

      “ ‘If that is so, Kisotchka, why get married?’ I asked.

      “ ‘Yes, of course,’ said Kisotchka with a sigh, ‘but you know every girl fancies that any husband is better than nothing. … Altogether life is horrid here, Nikolay Anastasyevitch, very horrid! Life is stifling for a girl and stifling when one is married. … Here they laugh at Sonya for having run away from her husband, but if they could see into her soul they would not laugh. …’ ”

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