"Because _he_ spoke about it; and I want to know what it was. Why is no one called after her? And if she was so wicked, I don't want to bear her name either. Give me some other." "Quiet, silly child! She did nothing wrong." "But Sophie's godfather told her that she had committed sin with King David." "It was love, and no sin." "Love! What is that?" Maria Alexievna Korynthia laughed aloud. "Now, am I to tell you what is love? You will know soon enough, child, when you fall in love yourself." "How shall I do that? Is love an evil which attacks people like an illness, or is it a good thing for which people long?" Maria Alexievna Korynthia laughed still louder. "Both together!" "How does it begin?" "When a young man looks deep into your eyes." "Into my eyes? I could not endure that; I should die outright." "But suppose the young man wanted to make you his wife, and became engaged to you?" "How can all that come about? I cannot imagine it." "The young man might begin by sending the girl some special birthday present." "And that would mean that he was in love with her? And if the girl accepted his present, would it mean that she was in love with him? Oh, how nice, how delightful! Must the girl make him a present too?" "Only her love." "Nothing else? Oh, how pretty, how charming! And suppose some other young man gives us handsomer presents, do we accept them too, and love him as well?" Korynthia clapped her hands with amusement. "Yes, of course. But only if one can keep the second lover secret from the first." "No, no. No secret dealings. I would rather confess that I loved another too. And why not, if love is good, and no crime? For instance, when I have a husband, may I not tell him that I love strawberries?" "Strawberries! Oh yes. That is only eating." "May I tell him that I love Sophie Narishkin?" "Oh yes. That is only friendship." "And would he behead me if he knew my love for dancing?" "Of course not." "Then if I may love strawberries, dancing, and my friend, why not a youth, if he be good and handsome?" "Oh, precious innocence! Do people never talk about love in your country?" "Never." "Are there, then, no youths and maidens?" "Of course there are. But in our country, when a young man wants to marry a girl he settles her price with her father and takes her home. If she is loving and faithful to him, he buys her costly clothing; if not, he turns her away and buys himself another wife." "That is not the custom here. Here a woman may only love one husband; this is commanded by our religion!" "That is quite different. Why did you not tell me at once that love is commanded by religion? Oh, I will faithfully follow the dictates of religion! You do, too, don't you? You love your husband? Do you look deep into his eyes? I have never noticed it." "Ah, child, life is long; and the season of love, we call the honeymoon, all too short."