"Frau Luise," Gagin began, taking pains to avoid my glance, "is the
widow of a former burgomaster of this place; a good old soul, but rather
narrow-minded. She has taken a great fancy to Assja. It is Assja's
passion to make the acquaintance of people of the lower classes. I have
found that pride is at the bottom of the matter every time. I have
spoiled her thoroughly, you see," he went on after a pause; "but what
was there for me to do? I never could carry a point by firmness with any
one; most of all not with her. It is my duty to be indulgent with her."
I was silent. Gagin gave another direction to the conversation. The more
I learned of him the more he pleased me. I soon understood him. His was
a real Russian character--truth-loving, faithful, simple, but
unfortunately rather sluggish, lacking firmness, and without the inward
fire. Youth did not flame up in him; it burned with a gentle glow. He
was most amiable and sensible; but I could not imagine what he would
become in manhood. He wished to be an artist. Without constant,
absorbing endeavor, no one is an artist. You exhaust yourself, I
thought, looking at his gentle face and listening to the slow cadence of
his voice. No; you will not strain every nerve; you will never succeed
in mastering yourself. And yet it was impossible not to be attracted by
him. My heart was really drawn to him. It may have been four hours that
we talked together, sometimes sitting on the sofa, sometimes walking
quietly up and down before the house; and in these four hours we became
real friends.
The day was at its close, and it was time to go home. Assja had not
returned.
"She is a wild creature," Gagin said. "If you please, I will go back
with you, and we will go to Frau Luise's on the way, and I will ask if
she is still there. The distance is trifling."
"We descended to the town, turned into a crooked and narrow cross
street, and came to a standstill before a house of four stories with two
windows on a floor. The second story projected into the street beyond
the first; the third and fourth reached still further forward than the
second. The whole house, with its old-fashioned carving, its two thick
pillars below, its steep, tiled roof, and the beak-shaped gutter running
out from the eaves, had the appearance of some monstrous, squatting
bird.
"Assja," called Gagin, "are you there?"
A lighted window in the third story was thrown up, and Assja's little
dark head appeared. Behind her peered forth the face of a toothless and
blear-eyed old woman.
"Here I am," answered Assja, coquettishly leaning over the window-sill
on her elbows. "It is exceedingly pleasant here. Catch," she added,
flinging a bit of geranium down to Gagin. "Imagine that I am the lady of
your heart."
Frau Luise laughed.
"N. is going," responded Gagin. "He would like to take leave of you."
"Indeed?" said Assja. "In that case give him my sprig. I am coming home
directly."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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