Sanine

It was one of those strangely beautiful evenings in late summer that

descend upon earth from the majestic azure vaults of heaven. The sun

had set, but the light was still distinct, and the air pure and clear.

There was a heavy dew, and the dust which had slowly risen formed long

gauze-like strips of cloud against the sky. The atmosphere was sultry

and yet fresh. Sounds floated hither and thither, as if borne on rapid

wings.

Sanine, hatless, and wearing his blue shirt that at the shoulders was

slightly faded, sauntered along the dusty road and turned down the

little grass-grown side-street leading to Ivanoff's lodging.

At the window, making cigarettes, sat Ivanoff, broad-shouldered and

sedate, with his long, straw-coloured hair carefully brushed back.

Humid airs floated towards him from the garden where grass and foliage

gained new lustre in the evening dew. The strong odour of tobacco was

an inducement to sneeze.

"Good evening," said Sanine, leaning on the windowsill. "Good evening."

"To-day I have been challenged to fight a duel," said Sanine.

"What fun!" replied Ivanoff carelessly. "With whom, and why?"

"With Sarudine. I turned him out of the house, and he considers himself

insulted."

"Oho! Then you'll have to meet him," said Ivanoff. "I'll be your

second, and you shall shoot his nose off."

"Why? The nose is a noble part of one's physiognomy. I am not going to

fight," rejoined Sanine, laughing.

Ivanoff nodded.

"A good thing, too. Duelling is quite unnecessary."

"My sister Lida doesn't think so," said Sanine.

"Because she's a goose," replied Ivanoff. "What a lot of tomfoolery

people choose to believe, don't they?"

So saying, he finished making the last cigarette, which he lighted,

putting the others in his leather cigarette-case.

Then he blew away the tobacco left on the window-sill, and, vaulting

over it, joined Sanine.

"What shall we do this evening?" he asked.

"Let us go and see Soloveitchik," suggested Sanine.

"Oh! no!"

"Why not?"

"I don't like him. He is such a worm."

Sanine shrugged his shoulders.

"Not worse than others. Come along."

"All right," said Ivanoff, who always agreed to anything that Sanine

proposed. So they both went along the street together.

Soloveitchik, however, was not at home. The door was shut, and the

courtyard dreary and deserted. Only Sultan rattled his chain and barked

at these strangers who had invaded his yard. "What a ghastly place!"

exclaimed Ivanoff. "Let us go to the boulevard."