The Torrents Of Spring
The Torrents Of Spring
The Torrents Of Spring
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XLI<br />
Such were Sanin’s thoughts, as he went to bed; but what he thought next<br />
morning when Maria Nikolaevna knocked impatiently at his door with<br />
the coral handle of her riding-whip, when he saw her in the doorway,<br />
with the train of a dark-blue riding habit over her arm, with a man’s<br />
small hat on her thickly coiled curls, with a veil thrown back over her<br />
shoulder, with a smile of invitation on her lips, in her eyes, over all her<br />
face – what he thought then – history does not record.<br />
‘Well? are you ready?’ rang out a joyous voice.<br />
Sanin buttoned his coat, and took his hat in silence. Maria Nikolaevna<br />
flung him a bright look, nodded to him, and ran swiftly down the staircase.<br />
And he ran after her.<br />
<strong>The</strong> horses were already waiting in the street at the steps. <strong>The</strong>re were<br />
three of them, a golden chestnut thorough-bred mare, with a thin-lipped<br />
mouth, that showed the teeth, with black prominent eyes, and legs like a<br />
stag’s, rather thin but beautifully shaped, and full of fire and spirit, for<br />
Maria Nikolaevna; a big, powerful, rather thick-set horse, raven black all<br />
over, for Sanin; the third horse was destined for the groom. Maria<br />
Nikolaevna leaped adroitly on to her mare, who stamped and wheeled<br />
round, lifting her tail, and sinking on to her haunches. But Maria<br />
Nikolaevna, who was a first-rate horse-woman, reined her in; they had<br />
to take leave of Polozov, who in his inevitable fez and in an open<br />
dressing-gown, came out on to the balcony, and from there waved a batiste<br />
handkerchief, without the faintest smile, rather a frown, in fact, on<br />
his face. Sanin too mounted his horse; Maria Nikolaevna saluted Polozov<br />
with her whip, then gave her mare a lash with it on her arched and flat<br />
neck. <strong>The</strong> mare reared on her hind legs, made a dash forward, moving<br />
with a smart and shortened step, quivering in every sinew, biting the air<br />
and snorting abruptly. Sanin rode behind, and looked at Maria<br />
Nikolaevna; her slender supple figure, moulded by close-fitting but easy<br />
stays, swayed to and fro with self-confident grace and skill. She turned<br />
her head and beckoned him with her eyes alone. He came alongside of<br />
her.<br />
‘See now, how delightful it is,’ she said. ‘I tell you at the last, before<br />
parting, you are charming, and you shan’t regret it.’<br />
As she uttered those last words, she nodded her head several times as<br />
if to confirm them and make him feel their full weight.<br />
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