Supposing some one should find it! I can't find it anywhere.It's turned out exactly as Sergai Mihailovitch wanted after all!""Look again," Mariana whispered.Mashurina waved her hand.
"It's no good.I've lost it."
Mariana came up to her.
"Well, then, kiss me."
Mashurina suddenly put her arms about Mariana and pressed her to her bosom with more than a woman's strength.
"I would not have done this for anybody," she said, a lump rising in her throat, "against my conscience...the first time! Tell him to be more careful...And you too.Be cautious.It will soon be very dangerous for everybody here, very dangerous.You had better both go away, while there's still time...Goodbye!"she added loudly with some severity."Just one more thing...
tell him...no, it's not necessary.It's nothing."Mashurina went out, banging the door behind her, while Mariana stood perplexed in the middle of the room.
"What does it all mean? " she exclaimed at last."This woman loves him more than I do! What did she want to convey by her hints? And why did Solomin disappear so suddenly, and why didn't he come back again?"She began pacing up and down the room.A curious sensation of fear, annoyance, and amazement took possession of her.Why did she not go with Nejdanov? Solomin had persuaded her not to...
but where is Solomin? And what is going on around here? Of course Mashurina did not give her the letter because of her love for Nejdanov.But how could she decide to disregard orders? Did she want to appear magnanimous? What right had she? And why was she, Mariana, so touched by her act? An unattractive woman interests herself in a young man...What is there extraordinary about it? And why should Mashurina assume that Mariana's attachment to Nejdanov is stronger than the feelings of duty? And did Mariana ask for such a sacrifice? And what could the letter have contained? A call for speedy action? Well, and what then?
And Markelov? He is in danger...and what are we doing?
Markelov spares us both, gives us the opportunity of being happy, does not part us...What makes him do it? Is it also magnaminity...or contempt?
And did we run away from that hateful house merely to live like turtle doves?
Thus Mariana pondered, while the feeling of agitation and annoyance grew stronger and stronger within her.Her pride was hurt.Why had everyone forsaken her? EVERYONE.This stout woman had called her a bird, a beauty...why not quite plainly, a doll?
And why did Nejdanov not go alone, but with Pavel? It's just as if he needed someone to look after him! And what are really Solomin's convictions? It's quite clear that he's not a revolutionist! And could any one really think that he does not treat the whole thing seriously?
These were the thoughts that whirled round, chasing one another and becoming entangled in Mariana's feverish brain.Pressing her lips closely together and folding her arms like a man, she sat down by the window at last and remained immovable, straight up in her chair, all alertness and intensity, ready to spring up at any moment.She had no desire to go to Tatiana and work; she wanted to wait alone.And she sat waiting obstinately, almost angrily.
From time to time her mood seemed strange and incomprehensible even to herself...Never mind."Am I jealous? " flashed across her mind, but remembering poor Mashurina's figure she shrugged her shoulders and dismissed the idea.
Mariana had been waiting for a long time when suddenly she heard the sound of two persons' footsteps coming up the stairs.She fixed her eyes on the door...the steps drew nearer.The door opened and Nejdanov, supported under the arm by Pavel, appeared in the doorway.He was deadly pale, without a cap, his dishevelled hair hung in wet tufts over his forehead, he stared vacantly straight in front of him.Pavel helped him across the room (Nejdanov's legs were weak and shaky) and made him sit down on the couch.
Mariana sprang up from her seat.
"What is the meaning of this? What's the matter with him? Is he ill?"As he settled Nejdanov, Pavel answered her with a smile, looking at her over his shoulder.
"You needn't worry.He'll soon be all right.It's only because he's not used to it.""What's the matter? " Mariana persisted.
"He's only a little tipsy.Been drinking on an empty stomach;that's all."
Mariana bent over Nejdanov.He was half lying on the couch, his head sunk on his breast, his eyes closed.He smelled of vodka; he was quite drunk.
"Alexai!" escaped her lips.
He raised his heavy eyelids with difficulty, and tried to smile.
"Well, Mariana!" he stammered out, "you've always talked of sim-plif-ication...so here I am quite simplified.Because the people are always drunk...and so..."He ceased, then muttered something indistinctly to himself, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.Pavel stretched him carefully on the couch.
"Don't worry, Mariana Vikentievna," he repeated."He'll sleep an hour or two and wake up as fresh as can be."Mariana wanted to ask how this had happened, but her questions would have detained Pavel and she wanted to be alone...she did not wish Pavel to see him in this disgusting state before her.She walked away to the window while Pavel, who instantly understood her, carefully covered Nejdanov's legs with the skirts of his coat, put a pillow under his head, and observing once again, "It's nothing," went out on tiptoe.
Mariana looked round.Nejdanov's head was buried in the pillow and on his pale face there was an expression of fixed intensity as on the face of one dangerously ill.
"I wonder how it happened?" she thought.
