VIRGIN SOIL
ing her short, thick curls, 'I've got one hundred and thirty-seven roubles; what have you?'
'Ninety-eight.'
'Oh! but we're rich . . . for simplified creatures. Well, good-bye till to-morrow!'
She went out; but a few instants later her door was slightly opened, and through the narrow crack he heard first, 'Good-bye!' then more softly, 'Good-bye!' and the key clicked in the lock.
Nezhdanov sank on to the sofa and covered his eyes with his hand.. . . Then he got up quickly, went up to the door, and knocked.
'What is it?' came from within.
'Not till to-morrow, Marianna . . . but to-morrow!'
'To-morrow,' responded a gentle voice.
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