Marie; a story of Russian love by Aleksandr Sergeevich Pushkin
page 41 of 118 (34%)
page 41 of 118 (34%)
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"Are you not ashamed of yourself," I said to him, "to have denounced us to the Commandant, after having given me your word you would not do so?" "As God is holy, I said nothing to Ivan Mironoff. Basilia drew it all from me. She took all the necessary measures without the knowledge of the Commandant. Thank God it finished as it did." He went to his room; I remained with Alexis. "Our affair can not end thus," I remarked. "Certainly not," replied Alexis. "You shall pay me with your blood for your impertinence, but as undoubtedly we shall be watched, let us feign for a few days. Until then, adieu!" We separated as if nothing had happened. I returned to the Commandant's, and seated myself as usual near Marie. Her father was absent and her mother busy with household duties. We spoke in subdued tones. Marie reproached me gently for the pain my quarrel with Alexis gave her. "My heart failed me," she said, "when I heard you were going to fight with swords. How strange men are! For a word, they are ready to strangle each other, and sacrifice, not only their own life, but even the honor and happiness of those who-- I am sure you did not begin the quarrel? Alexis was the aggressor?" "Why do you think so?" "Because he is so sarcastic. I do not like him, and yet I would not displease him, although he is quite disagreeable to me." |
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