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Cheley, F. H.

"Best Russian Short Stories"

It's getting to be a
nuisance."
She looked at him in astonishment and alarm, and asked:
"But, Volodichka, what _am_ I to talk about?"
And she threw her arms round his neck, with tears in her eyes, and
begged him not to be angry. And they were both happy.
But their happiness was of short duration. The veterinary surgeon went
away with his regiment to be gone for good, when it was transferred to
some distant place almost as far as Siberia, and Olenka was left
alone.
Now she was completely alone. Her father had long been dead, and his
armchair lay in the attic covered with dust and minus one leg. She got
thin and homely, and the people who met her on the street no longer
looked at her as they had used to, nor smiled at her. Evidently her
best years were over, past and gone, and a new, dubious life was to
begin which it were better not to think about.
In the evening Olenka sat on the steps and heard the music playing and
the rockets bursting in the Tivoli; but it no longer aroused any
response in her. She looked listlessly into the yard, thought of
nothing, wanted nothing, and when night came on, she went to bed and
dreamed of nothing but the empty yard.


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