Chapter 4

           

           Varenka,withherwhitekerchiefonherblackhair,surroundedbythechildren,gailyandgood-humoredlylookingafterthem,andatthesametimevisiblyexcitedatthepossibilityofreceivingadeclarationfromthemanshecaredfor,wasveryattractive.SergeyIvanovitchwalkedbesideher,andneverleftoffadmiringher.Lookingather,herecalledallthedelightfulthingshehadheardfromherlips,allthegoodheknewabouther,andbecamemoreandmoreconsciousthatthefeelinghehadforherwassomethingspecialthathehadfeltlong,longago,andonlyonce,inhisearlyyouth.Thefeelingofhappinessinbeingnearhercontinuallygrew,andatlastreachedsuchapointthat,asheputahuge,slender-stalkedagaricfungusinherbasket,helookedstraightintoherface,andnoticingtheflushofgladandalarmedexcitementthatoverspreadherface,hewasconfusedhimself,andsmiledtoherinsilenceasmilethatsaidtoomuch.

           “Ifso,”hesaidtohimself,“Ioughttothinkitoverandmakeupmymind,andnotgivewaylikeaboytotheimpulseofamoment.”

           “I’mgoingtopickbymyselfapartfromalltherest,orelsemyeffortswillmakenoshow,”hesaid,andhelefttheedgeoftheforestwheretheywerewalkingonlowsilkygrassbetweenoldbirchtreesstandingfarapart,andwentmoreintotheheartofthewood,wherebetweenthewhitebirchtrunksthereweregraytrunksofaspenanddarkbushesofhazel.Walkingsomefortypacesaway,SergeyIvanovitch,knowinghewasoutofsight,stoodstillbehindabushyspindle-treeinfullflowerwithitsrosyredcatkins.

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