Sanine

Yourii began to walk up and down the room, and, as often happens, his

change of position brought with it a change in his train of thought.

"Very well. That's so. All the same, a good many things have to be

considered. For instance, what is my position with regard to Sina

Karsavina? Whether I love her or not it doesn't much matter. The

question is, what will come of it all? Suppose I marry her, or become

closely attached to her. Will that make me happy? To betray her would

be a crime, and if I love her ... Well, then, I can ... In all

probability she would have children." He blushed at the thought.

"There's nothing wrong about that, only it would be a tie, and I should

lose my freedom. A family man! Domestic bliss! No, that's not in my

line."

"One ... two ... three," he counted, as he tried each time to step

across two boards and set his foot on the third one. "If I could be

sure that she would not have children, or that I should get so fond of

them that my whole life would be devoted to them! No; how terribly

commonplace! Riasantzeff would be fond of his children, too. What

difference would there then be between us? A life of self-sacrifice!

That is the real life! Yes, but of sacrifice for whom? And in what way?

No matter what road I choose nor at what goal I aim, show me the pure

and perfect ideal for which it were worth while to die! No, it is not

that I am weak; it is because life itself is not worthy of sacrifice

nor of enthusiasm. Consequently there is no sense in living at all."

Never before had this conclusion seemed so absolutely convincing to

him. On his table lay a revolver, and each time he passed it, while

walking up and down, its polished steel caught his eye.

He took it up and examined it carefully. It was loaded. He placed the

barrel against his temple.

"There! Like that!" he thought. "Bang! And it's all over. Is it a wise

or a stupid thing to shoot oneself? Is suicide a cowardly act? Then I

suppose that I am a coward!"

The contact of cold steel on his heated brow was at once pleasant and

alarming.

"What about Sina?" he asked himself. "Ah! well, I shall never get her,

and so I leave to some one else this enjoyment." The thought of Sina

awoke tender memories, which he strove to repress as sentimental folly.