Sanine

Yourii came near to admitting that life was the realization of freedom,

and consequently that it was natural for a man to live for enjoyment.

Thus Riasantzeff's point of view, though inferior, was yet a perfectly

logical one in striving to satisfy his sexual needs as much as

possible, they being the most urgent. But then he had to admit that the

conceptions of debauchery and of purity were merely as withered leaves

that cover fresh grown grass, and that girls romantic and chaste as

Lialia or Sina Karsavina had the right to plunge into the stream of

sensual enjoyment. Such an idea shocked him as being both frivolous and

nasty, and he endeavoured to drive it from his brain and heart with his

usual vehement, stern phrases.

"Well, yes," he thought, gazing upwards at the starry sky, "life is

emotion, but men are not unreasoning beasts. They must master their

passions; their desires must be set upon what is good. Yet, is there a

God beyond the stars?"

As he suddenly asked himself this, a confused, painful sense of awe

seemed to crush him to the ground. Persistently he gazed at a brilliant

star in the tail of the Great Bear and recollected how Kousma the

peasant in the melon-field had called this majestic constellation a

"wheelbarrow." He felt annoyed, in a way, that such an irrelevant

thought should have crossed his mind. He gazed at the black garden in

sharp contrast to the shining sky, pondering, meditating.

"If the world were deprived of feminine purity and grace, that are as

the first sweet flowers of spring, what would remain sacred to

mankind?"

As he thought thus, he pictured to himself a company of lovely maidens,

fair as spring flowers, seated in sunlight on green meadows beneath

blossoming boughs. Their youthful breasts, delicately moulded

shoulders, and supple limbs moved mysteriously before his eyes,

provoking exquisitely voluptuous thrills. As if dazed, he passed his

hand across his brow.

"My nerves are overwrought; I must get to bed," thought he. With

sensuous visions such as these before his eyes, depressed and ill at

ease, Yourii went hurriedly indoors. When in bed, after vain efforts to

sleep, his thoughts reverted to Lialia and Riasantzeff.

"Why am I so indignant because Lialia is not Riasantzeff's only love?"

To this question he could find no reply. Suddenly the image of Sina

Karsavina rose up before him, soothing his heated senses. Yet, though

he strove to suppress his feelings, it became ever clearer to him why

he wanted her to be just as she was, untouched and pure.