Yama (The Pit) Part 25

"My sister, let me kiss you!"

Jennka whispered something into her ear.

"Why, that's a silly trifle," said Rovinskaya. "A few months of treatment and it will all go away."

"No, no, no ... I want to make all of them diseased. Let them all rot and croak."

"Ah, my dear," said Rovinskaya, "I would not do that in your place."

And now Jennka, the proud Jennka began kissing the knees and hands of the artiste and was saying:

"Then why have people wronged me so? ... Why have they wronged me so?

Why? Why? Why?"

Such is the might of genius!

The only might which takes into its beautiful hands not the abject reason, but the warm soul of man! The self-respecting Jennka was hiding her face in Rovinskaya's dress; Little White Manka was sitting meekly on a chair, her face covered with a handkerchief; Tamara, with elbow propped on her knee and head bowed on the palm of her hand, was intently looking down, while Simeon the porter, who had been looking in against any emergency, only opened his eyes wide in amazement.

Rovinskaya was quietly whispering into Jennka's very ear:

"Never despair. Sometimes things fall out so badly that there's nothing for it but to hang one's self--but, just look, to-morrow life has changed abruptly. My dear, my sister, I am now a world celebrity. But if you only knew what seas of humiliation and vileness I have had to wade through! Be well, then, my dear, and believe in your star."

She bent down to Jennka and kissed her on the forehead. And never afterwards could Volodya Chaplinsky, who had been watching this scene with a painful tension, forget those warm and beautiful rays, which at this moment kindled in the green, long, Egyptian eyes of the artiste.

The party departed gloomily, but Ryazanov lingered behind for a minute.

He walked up to Jennka, respectfully and gently kissed her hand, and said:

"If possible, forgive our prank ... This, of course, will not be repeated. But if you ever have need of me, I am always at your service.

Here is my visiting card. Don't stick it out on your bureau; but remember, that from this evening on I am your friend."

And, having kissed Jennka's hand once more, he was the last to go down the stairs.

CHAPTER VIII.

On Thursday, since very morning, a ceaseless, fine drizzle had begun to fall, and so the leaves of the chestnuts, acacias, and poplars had at once turned green. And, suddenly, it became somehow dreamily quiet and protractedly tedious. Pensive and monotonous.

During this all the girls had gathered, as usual, in Jennka's room. But something strange was going on within her. She did not utter witticisms, did not laugh, did not read, as always, her usual yellow-back novel which was now lying aimlessly either on her breast or stomach; but was vicious, wrapped up in sadness, and in her eyes blazed a yellow fire that spoke of hatred. In vain did Little White Manka, Manka the Scandaliste, who adored her, try to turn her attention to herself--Jennka seemed not to notice her, and the conversation did not at all get on. It was depressing. But it may have been that the August drizzle, which had steadily set in for several weeks running, reacted upon all of them. Tamara sat down on Jennka's bed, gently embraced her, and, having put her mouth near her very ear, said in a whisper:

"What's the matter, Jennechka? I've seen for a long time that something strange is going on in you. And Manka feels that too. Just see, how she's wasted without your caressing. Tell me. Perhaps I'll be able to help you in some way?"

Jennka closed her eyes and shook her head in negation. Tamara moved away from her a little, but continued to stroke her shoulder gently.

"It's your affair, Jennechka. I daren't b.u.t.t into your soul. I only asked because you're the only being who..."

Jennka with decision suddenly jumped out of bed, seized Tamara by the hand and said abruptly and commandingly:

"All right! Let's get out of here for a minute. I'll tell you everything. Girls, wait for us a little while."

In the light corridor Jennka laid her hands on the shoulders of her mate and with a distorted, suddenly blanched face, said:

"Well, then, listen here: some one has infected me with syphilis."

"Oh, my poor darling. Long?"

"Long. Do you remember, when the students were here? The same ones who started a row with Platonov? I found out about it for the first time then. I found out in the daytime."

"Do you know," quietly remarked Tamara, "I almost guessed about this, and particularly then, when you went down on your knees before the singer and talked quietly about something with her. But still, my dear Jennechka, you must attend to yourself."

Jennka wrathfully stamped her foot and tore in half the batiste handkerchief which she had been nervously crumpling in her hands.

"No! Not for anything! I won't infect any one of you. You may have noticed yourself, that during the last weeks I don't dine at the common table, and that I wash and wipe the dishes myself. That's why I'm trying to break Manka away from me, whom, you know, I love sincerely, in the real way. But these two-legged skunks I infect purposely, infect every evening, ten, fifteen of them. Let them rot, let them carry the syphilis on to their wives, mistresses, mothers--yes, yes, their mothers also, and their fathers, and their governesses, and even their grand-grandmothers. Let them all perish, the honest skunks!"

Tamara carefully and tenderly stroked Jennka's head. "Can it be that you'll go the limit, Jennechka?"

"Yes. And without any mercy. All of you, however, don't have to be afraid of me. I choose the man myself. The stupidest, the handsomest, the richest and the most important, but not to one of you will I let them go afterward. Oh! I make believe I'm so pa.s.sionate before them, that you'd burst out laughing if you saw. I bite them, I scratch, I cry and s.h.i.+ver like an insane woman. They believe it, the pack of fools."

"It's your affair, it's your affair, Jennechka," meditatively uttered Tamara, looking down. "Perhaps you're right, at that. Who knows? But tell me, how did you get away from the doctor?"

Jennka suddenly turned away from her, pressed her face against the angle of the window frame and suddenly burst into bitter, searing tears--the tears of wrath and vengefulness--and at the same time she spoke, gasping and quivering:

"Because ... because ... Because G.o.d has sent me especial luck: I am sick there where, in all probability, no doctor can see. And ours, besides that, is old and stupid..."

And suddenly, with some unusual effort of the will Jennka stopped her tears just as unexpectedly as she had started crying.

"Come to me, Tamarochka," she said. "Of course, you won't chatter too much?"

"Of course not."

And they returned into Jennka's room, both of them calm and restrained.

Simeon walked into the room. He, contrary to his usual brazenness, always bore himself with a shade of respect toward Jennka. Simeon said:

"Well, now, Jennechka, their Excellency has come to Vanda. Allow her to go away for ten minutes."

Vanda, a blue-eyed, light blonde, with a large red mouth, with the typical face of a Lithuanian, looked imploringly at Jennka. If Jennka had said "No" she would have remained in the room, but Jennka did not say anything and even shut her eyes deliberately. Vanda obediently went out of the room.

This general came accurately twice a month, every two weeks (just as to Zoe, another girl, came daily another honoured guest, nicknamed the Director in the house).

Jennka suddenly threw the old, tattered book behind her. Her brown eyes flared up with a real golden fire.

"You're wrong in despising this general," said she. "I've known worse Ethiopians. I had a certain guest once--a real blockhead. He couldn't make love to me otherwise than ... otherwise than ... well, let's say it plainly: he p.r.i.c.ked me with pins in the breast ... While in Vilno a Polish Catholic priest used to come to me. He would dress me all in white, compel me to powder myself, lay me down on the bed. He'd light three candles near me. And then, when I seemed to him altogether like a dead woman, he'd throw himself upon me."

Little White Manka suddenly exclaimed: