Men -- Russia -- Fiction; Russia -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
“Take my arm,” he suggested, “or else you may fall.”
Sina placed her arm in his, feeling a strange emotion as she touched
his muscles that were hard as steel. Thus they went on in the darkness,
through the woods to the river. In the wood it was pitch-dark, as if
all the trees had been fused and melted in a warm, impenetrable mist.
“Oh! how dark it is!”
“That doesn’t matter,” whispered Sanine in her ear. His voice trembled
slightly. “I like woods best at night time. It is then that man strips
off his everyday mask and becomes bolder, more mysterious, more
interesting.”
As the sandy soil slipped beneath their feet, Sina found it difficult
to save herself from falling. It was this darkness and this physical
contact with a supple, masterful male to whom she had always been
drawn, that now caused her most exquisite agitation. Her face glowed,
her soft arm shared its warmth with that of Sanine’s, and her laughter
was forced and incessant.
At the foot of the hill it was less dark. Moonlight lay on the river,
and a cool breeze from its broad surface fanned their cheeks.
Mysteriously the wood receded in the gloom, as though it had given them
into the river’s charge.
“Where is your boat?”
“There it is.”
The boat lay sharply defined against the bright, smooth surface of the
stream. While Sanine got the oars into position, Sina, balancing
herself with outstretched arms, took her place in the stern. All at
once the moonlight and the luminous reflections from the water gave a
fantastic radiance to her form. Pushing off the boat from land, Sanine
sprang into it. With a slight grating sound the keel slid over the sand
and cut the water, as the boat swam into the moonlight, leaving broad
ripples in its wake.
“Let me row,” said Sina, suddenly endued with strange, overmastering
strength. “I love rowing.”
“Very well, sit here, then,” said Sanine, standing in the middle of the
boat.
Again her supple form brushed lightly past him and as, with his finger-
tips, she touched his proffered hand, he could glance downwards at her
shapely bosom….
Thus they floated down the stream. The moonlight, shining upon her pale
face with its dark eyebrows and gleaming eyes, gave a certain lustre to
her simple white dress. To Sanine it seemed as if they were entering a
land of faerie, far removed from all men, outside the pale of human law
and reason.
“What a lovely night!” exclaimed Sina.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” replied Sanine in an undertone.
All at once, she burst out laughing.
“I don’t know why, but I feel as if I should like to throw my hat into
the water, and let down my hair,” she said, yielding to a sudden
impulse.
“Then do it, by all means,” murmured Sanine.
But she grew ill at ease and was silent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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