Then tears poured from my eyes like a hailstorm, washing away from my
heart much that was evil, much that war, stupid, much sorrow and dirt
which had fastened upon it before that night. Natasha comforted me.
"Come, come, that will do, little one! Don't take on! That'll do! God
will give you another chance ... you will right yourself and stand in
your proper place again ... and it will be all right..."
And she kept kissing me ... many kisses did she give me ... burning
kisses ... and all for nothing...
Those were the first kisses from a woman that had ever been bestowed
upon me, and they were the best kisses too, for all the subsequent
kisses cost me frightfully dear, and really gave me nothing at all in
exchange.
"Come, don't take on so, funny one! I'll manage for you to-morrow if
you cannot find a place." Her quiet persuasive whispering sounded in
my ears as if it came through a dream...
There we lay till dawn...
And when the dawn came, we crept from behind the skiff and went into
the town... Then we took friendly leave of each other and never met
again, although for half a year I searched in every hole and corner
for that kind Natasha, with whom I spent the autumn night just
described.
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