hroat.

"I scarcely said a word the whole time," Nejdanov observed. "It was she
who did the talking."

Mariana walked on in silence. A turn in the path brought them to the end
of the grove in front of which lay a small lawn; a weeping silver birch
stood in the middle, its hollow trunk encircled by a round seat. Mariana
sat down on this seat and Nejdanov seated himself at her side. The long
hanging branches covered with tiny green leaves were waving gently over
their heads. Around them masses of lily-of-the-valley could be seen
peeping out from amidst the fine grass. The whole place was filled with
a sweet scent, refreshing after the very heavy resinous smell of the
pine trees.

"So you want to see the school," Mariana began; "I must warn you that
you will not find it very exciting. You have heard that our principal
master is the deacon. He is not a bad fellow, but you can't imagine what
nonsense he talks to the children. There is a certain boy among them,
called Garacy, an orphan of nine years old, and, would you believe it,
he learns better than any of the others!"

With the change of conversation, Mariana herself seemed to change. She
turned paler, became more composed, and her face assumed an expression
of embarrassment, as if she were repenting of her outburst. She
evidently wished to lead Nejdanov into discussing some "question" or
other about the school, the peasants, anything, so as not to continue in
the former strain. But he was far from "questions" at this moment.

"Mariana Vikentievna," he began; "to be quite frank with you, I little
expected all that has happened between us." (At the word "happened" she
drew herself up.) "It seems to me that we have suddenly become very...
very intimate. That is as it should be. We have for some time past been
getting closer to one another, only we have not expressed it in words.
And so I will also speak to you frankly. It is no doubt wretched for you
here, but surely your uncle, although he is limited, seems a kind man,
as far as one can judge. Doesn't he understand your position and take
your part?"

"My uncle, in the first place, is not a man, he's an official, a
senator, or a minister, I forget which; and in the second, I don't want
to complain and speak badly of people for nothing. It is not at all
hard for me here, that is, nobody interferes with me; my aunt's petty
pin-pricks are in reality nothing to me... I am quite free."

Nejdanov looked at her in amazemen