The Torrents Of Spring

‘Yes.’
Gemma moved forward on the seat. The basket tottered, fell … a few
cherries rolled on to the path. A minute passed by … another.
‘Why did she tell you so?’ he heard her voice saying. Sanin as before
could only see Gemma’s neck. Her bosom rose and fell more rapidly
than before.
‘Why? Your mother thought that as you and I, in a short time, have become,
so to say, friends, and you have some confidence in me, I am in a
position to give you good advice – and you would mind what I say.’
Gemma’s hands slowly slid on to her knees. She began plucking at the
folds of her dress.
‘What advice will you give me, Monsieur Dimitri?’ she asked, after a
short pause.
Sanin saw that Gemma’s fingers were trembling on her knees… . She
was only plucking at the folds of her dress to hide their trembling. He
softly laid his hand on those pale, shaking fingers.
‘Gemma,’ he said, ‘why don’t you look at me?’ She instantly tossed her
hat back on to her shoulder, and bent her eyes upon him, confiding and
grateful as before. She waited for him to speak… . But the sight of her
face had bewildered, and, as it were, dazed him. The warm glow of the
evening sun lighted up her youthful head, and the expression of that
head was brighter, more radiant than its glow.
‘I will mind what you say, Monsieur Dimitri,’ she said, faintly smiling,
and faintly arching her brows; ‘but what advice do you give me?’
‘What advice?’ repeated Sanin. ‘Well, you see, your mother considers
that to dismiss Herr Klüber simply because he did not show any special
courage the day before yesterday … ’
‘Simply because?’ said Gemma. She bent down, picked up the basket,
and set it beside her on the garden seat.
‘That … altogether … to dismiss him, would be, on your part … unreasonable;
that it is a step, all the consequences of which ought to be
thoroughly weighed; that in fact the very position of your affairs imposes
certain obligations on every member of your family … ’
‘All that is mamma’s opinion,’ Gemma interposed; ‘those are her
words; but what is your opinion?’
‘Mine?’ Sanin was silent for a while. He felt a lump rising in his throat
and catching at his breath. ‘I too consider,’ he began with an effort …
Gemma drew herself up. ‘Too? You too?’
‘Yes … that is … ’ Sanin was unable, positively unable to add a single
word more.
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