The poor girl maintained silence, and heaved a deep sigh.
“Oh, Victor Alexandrich, how will I get along without you?” she said suddenly.
Victor wiped the lorgnette and put it back into his pocket.
“Yes, yes,” he said at last. “At first it will really be hard for you.” He tapped her on the shoulder condescendingly; she quietly took his hand from her shoulder and kissed it. “Well, yes, yes, you are indeed a good girl,” he went on, with a self-satisfied smile; “but it can’t be helped! Consider it yourself! My master and I can’t stay here, can we? Winter is near, and to pass the winter in the country is simply nasty—you know it yourself. It’s a different thing in St. Petersburg! There are such wonders over there that you could not imagine even in your dreams, you silly—What houses, what streets, and society, education—it’s something wonderful!—” Akulina listened to him with close attention, slightly opening her lips like a child. “However,” he added, wriggling on the ground, “why do I say all this to you? You can’t understand it anyway!”
“Why not, Victor Alexandrich? I understood, I understood everything.”
“Just think of her!”
Akulina cast down her eyes.
“You did not speak to me like this before, Victor Alexandrich,” she said, without lifting her eyes.
“Before?—Before! Just think of her!—Before!” he remarked, indignantly.
Both grew silent.