“Good!” exclaimed Sanine, as he jumped up. “Nothing is more awful than the thought of death. But so long as you can bear the burden without losing perception of the sights and sounds of life, I say live! Am I not right? Now, give me your paw!” Lida held out her hand. The shy, feminine gesture betokened childish gratitude. “That’s right … What a pretty little hand you’ve got.” Lida smiled and said nothing. But Sanine’s words had not proved ineffectual. Hers was a vigorous, buoyant vitality; the crisis through which she had just passed had strained that vitality to the utmost. A little more pressure, and the string would have snapped. But the pressure was not applied, and her whole being vibrated once more with an impetuous, turbulent desire to live. She looked above, around her, in ecstasy, listening to the immense joy pulsating on every side; in the sunlight, in the green meadows, the shining stream, the calm, smiling face of her brother, and in herself. It was as if she now could see and hear all this for the first time. “To be alive!” cried a gladsome voice within her. “All right!” said Sanine. “I will help you in your trouble, and stand by you when you fight your battles. And now, as you’re such a beauty, you must give me a kiss.” Lida smiled; a smile mysterious as that of a wood-nymph. Sanine put his arms round her waist, and, as her warm supple form thrilled at his touch, his fond embrace became almost vehement. A strange, indefinable sense of joy overcame Lida, as she yearned for life ampler and more intense. It mattered not to her what she did. She slowly put both arms round her brother’s neck and, with half-closed eyes, set her lips tight to give the kiss. She felt unspeakably happy beneath Sanine’s burning caress, and in that moment cared not who it was that kissed her, just as a flower warmed by the sun never asks whence comes such warmth. “What is the matter with me?” she thought, pleasurably alarmed. “Ah! yes! I wanted to drown myself … how silly! And for what? Oh! that’s nice! Again! Again! Now, I’ll kiss you! It’s lovely! And I don’t care what happens so long as I’m alive, alive!” “There, now, you see,” said Sanine, releasing her. “All good things are just good, and one mustn’t make them out to be anything else.” Lida smiled absently, and slowly re-arranged her hair. Sanine handed her the parasol and glove. To find the other glove was missing at first surprised her, but instantly recollecting the reason, she felt greatly amused at the absurd importance which she had given to that trifling incident. “Ah! well, that’s over!” she thought, and walked with her brother along the river-bank. Fiercely the sun’s rays beat upon her round, ripe bosom. CHAPTER XX. Novikoff, when he opened the door himself to Sanine, looked far from pleased at the prospect of such a visit. Everything that reminded him of Lida and of his shattered dream of bliss caused him pain.