Only then was Novikoff aware that Sarudine was singing.
The young officer had chosen that old romance, I loved you once! Can you forget?
Love in my heart is burning yet.
He did not sing badly, but after the style of untrained singers who
seek to give expression by exaggerated tone-colour. Novikoff found
nothing to please him in such a performance.
"What is that? One of his own compositions?" asked he, with unusual
bitterness.
"No! Don't disturb us, please, but sit down!" said Lida, sharply. "And
if you don't like music, go and look at the moon!"
Just then the moon, large, round and red, was rising above the black
tree-tops. Its soft evasive light touched the stone steps, and Lida's
dress, and her pensive, smiling face. In the garden the shadows had
grown deeper; they were now sombre and profound as those of the forest.
Novikoff sighed, and then blurted out.
"I prefer you to the moon," thinking to himself, "that's an idiotic
remark!"
Lida burst out laughing.
"What a lumpish compliment!" she exclaimed.
"I don't know how to pay compliments," was Novikoff's sullen rejoinder.
"Very well, then, sit still and listen," said Lida, shrugging her
shoulders, pettishly.
But you no longer care, I know,
Why should I grieve you with my woe?
The tones of the piano rang out with silvery clearness through the
green, humid garden. The moonlight became more and more intense and the
shadows harder. Crossing the grass, Sanine sat down under a linden-tree
and was about to light a cigarette. Then he suddenly stopped and
remained motionless, as if spell-bound by the evening calm that the
sounds of the piano and of this youthfully sentimental voice in no way
disturbed, but rather served to make more complete.
"Lidia Petrovna!" cried Novikoff hurriedly, as if this particular
moment must never be lost. "Well?" asked Lida mechanically, as she
looked at the garden and the moon above it and the dark boughs that
stood out sharply against its silver disc.
"I have long waited--that is--I have been anxious to say something to
you," Novikoff stammered out.
Sanine turned his head round to listen.
"What about?" asked Lida, absently.
Sarudine had finished his song and after a pause began to sing again.
He thought that he had a voice of extraordinary beauty, and he much
liked to hear it.
Novikoff felt himself growing red, and then pale. It was as if he were
going to faint.
"I--look here--Lidia Petrovna--will you be my wife?"