Liudmilla taught Sasha to curtsy. He did this awkwardly and shyly at first. But he was graceful in spite of his boyish angularity. Blushing and laughing, he learned diligently to curtsy and he coquetted furiously.
Sometimes Liudmilla seized his bare, graceful arms and kissed them. Sasha did not resist, and looked laughingly at Liudmilla. Sometimes he held out his hands to her lips and said:
"Kiss them!"
But he liked most of all other costumes, which Liudmilla herself made, particularly the dress of a fisher-boy with bare legs, the tunic of a bare-foot Athenian boy.
Liudmilla would dress him up and admire him. But she herself would go pale and look melancholy.
Sasha was sitting on Liudmilla's bed, playing with the folds of his tunic and dangling his naked legs. Liudmilla stood in front of him and looked at him with an expression of happiness and surprise.
"How stupid you are!" said Sasha.
"There's so much happiness in my stupidity," said Liudmilla, pale and crying, and kissing Sasha's hands.
"Why are you crying?" asked Sasha, smiling unconcernedly.