Mariana pronounced the last words with such a bright joyful expression that Nejdanov could not help laughing as he looked at her and repeating, “black sheep!”
“She is awfully hurt,” Mariana went on, “that you are not at her feet. But that is nothing. The most important thing is that I can’t stay here any longer. I must run away.”
“Run away?” Nejdanov asked.
“Yes.... You are not going to stay here, are you? We’ll go away together.... We must work together.... You’ll come with me, won’t you?”
“To the ends of the earth!” Nejdanov exclaimed, his voice ringing with sudden emotion in a transport of gratitude. “To the ends of the earth!” At that moment he would have gone with her wherever she wanted, without so much as looking back.
Mariana understood him and gave a gentle, blissful sigh.
“Then take my hand, dearest—only don’t kiss it—press it firmly, like a comrade, like a friend—like this!”
They walked home together, pensive, happy. The young grass caressed their feet, the young leaves rustled about them, patches of light and shade played over their garments—and they both smiled at the wild play of the light, at the merry gusts of wind, at the fresh, sparkling leaves, at their own youth, and at one another.
XXIII
The dawn was already approaching on the night after Golushkin’s dinner when Solomin, after a brisk walk of about five miles, knocked at the gate in the high wall surrounding the factory. The watchman let him in at once and, followed by three house-dogs wagging their tails with great delight, accompanied him respectfully to his own dwelling. He seemed to be very pleased that the chief had got back safely.