—he was in such a desperate hurry.. . . But why should you deny yourself? Later on things'll be clearer.'
Tatyana went out; Solomin too rose. Marianna was standing with her back to him, and when she did at last turn round to him—seeing that for a very long time he had not uttered a single word—she caught in his face, in his eyes which were fastened upon her, an expression she had never seen in him before, an expression of inquiry, of anxiety, almost of curiosity. She was disconcerted and blushed again. And Solomin seemed ashamed of what she had caught sight of in his face, and he began talking louder than usual:
'Well, well, Marianna . . . here you've made a beginning.'
'A fine beginning, Vassily Fedotitch! How can one call it a beginning? I feel somehow very stupid all of a sudden. Alexey was right; we are really acting a sort of farce.'
Solomin sat down again on his chair.
'But, Marianna, let me say . . . How did you picture it to yourself—the beginning? It's not a matter of building barricades with a flag over them, and shouting hurrah! for the republic! And that's not a woman's work either. But you now to-day will start training some Lukerya in something good, and it'll be a hard
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