Yourii was silent. His contemplative mood was in a moment dispelled, and he now felt convinced that Sanine was a coarse, bad man. Riasantzeff shrugged his shoulders, and at last blurted out: “Deuce take it! Such a night, eh? It seems to have got hold of me, too. I say, suppose we drive back, and—” Yourii did not at first understand what he meant. “There are some fine girls there, you know. What do you say? Shall we go back?” continued Riasantzeff, sniggering. Yourii blushed deeply. A thrill of animal lust shot through his frame, and enticing pictures rose up before his heated imagination. Yet, controlling himself, he answered, in a dry voice: “No; it is time that we were at home.” Then he added, maliciously: “Lialia is waiting for us.” Riasantzeff collapsed. “Oh, yes, of course; yes, we ought to be back by now!” he hastily muttered. Yourii ground his teeth, and, glaring at the driver’s broad back in its white jacket, remarked aggressively: “I have no particular liking for adventures of that sort.” “No, no; I understand. Ha! Ha!” replied Riasantzeff, laughing in a faint half-hearted way. After that he was silent. “Damn it! How stupid of me!” he thought. They drove home without uttering another word, and to each the way seemed endless. “You will come in, won’t you?” asked Yourii, without looking up. “Er … No! I have got to see a patient. Besides it is rather late,” replied Riasantzeff hesitatingly. Yourii got out of the _droschky_, not caring to take the gun or the game. Everything that belonged to Riasantzeff he now seemed to loathe. The latter called out to him. “I say, you’ve left your gun!” Yourii turned round, took this and the bag with an air of disgust. After shaking hands awkwardly with Riasantzeff, he entered the house. The latter drove on slowly for a short distance and then turned sharply into a side-street. The rattle of wheels on the road could now be heard in another direction. Yourii listened to it, furious, and yet secretly jealous. “A bad lot!” he muttered, feeling sorry for his sister. CHAPTER XIV. Having carried the things indoors, Yourii, for want of something else to do, went down the steps leading to the garden. It was dark as the grave, and the sky with it vast company of gleaming stars enhanced the weird effect. There, on one of the steps, sat Lialia; her little grey form was scarcely perceptible in the gloom. “Is that you, Yourii?” she asked. “Yes, it is,” he replied, as he sat down beside her. Dreamily she leant her head on his shoulder, and the fragrance of her fresh, sweet girlhood touched his senses. “Did you have good sport?” said Lialia. Then after a pause, she added softly, “and where is Anatole Pavlovitch? I heard you drive up.” “Your Anatole Pavlovitch is a dirty beast!” is what Yourii, feeling suddenly incensed, would have liked to say. However, he answered carelessly: “I really don’t know. He had to see a patient.”