Sanine frowned, and went into his room.
“So that’s as far as Lida has got!” he thought. “Perhaps, if she had drowned herself, it would have been better, after all.”
Underneath the window, Ivanoff could hear Sanine hastily packing his things. There was a rustling of paper, and the sound of something that had fallen on the floor.
“Aren’t you coming?” he asked impatiently.
“In a minute,” replied Sanine, as his pale face appeared at the window.
“Catch hold!”
The valise was promptly handed out to Ivanoff and Sanine leapt after it.
“Come along!”
They went swiftly through the garden, that lay dim and desolate in the dusk. The fires of sunset had paled beyond the glimmering stream.
At the railway-station all the signal-lamps had been lighted. A locomotive was snorting and puffing. Men were running about, banging doors and shouting at each other. A group of peasants who carried large bundles filled one part of the platform.