CHAPTER II.

It was about six o'clock. The sun still shone brightly, but in the
garden there were already faint green shadows. The air was full of
light and warmth and peace. Maria Ivanovna was making jam, and under
the green linden-tree there was a strong smell of boiling sugar and
raspberries. Sanine had been busy at the flower-beds all the morning,
trying to revive some of the flowers that suffered most from the dust
and heat.

"You had better pull up the weeds first," suggested his mother, as from
time to time she watched him through the blue, quivering stream. "Tell
Grounjka, and she'll do it for you."

Sanine looked up, hot and smiling. "Why?" said he, as he tossed back
his hair that clung to his brow. "Let them grow as much as they like. I
am fond of everything green."

"You're a funny fellow!" said his mother, as she shrugged her
shoulders, good-humouredly. For some reason or other, his answer had
pleased her.

"It is you yourselves that are funny," said Sanine, in a tone of
conviction. He then went into the house to wash his hands, and, coming
back, sat down at his ease in a wicker arm-chair near the table. He
felt happy, and in a good temper. The verdure, the sunlight and the
blue sky filled him with a keener sense of the joy of life. Large towns
with their bustle and din were to him detestable. Around him were
sunlight and freedom; the future gave him no anxiety; for he was
disposed to accept from life whatever it could offer him. Sanine shut