"And now you are pregnant...."
Lida shut her eyes and bowed her head.
"Of course, it's a bad business," continued Sanine, gently. "In the
first place, giving birth to children is a nasty, painful affair; in
the second place, and what really matters, people would persecute you
incessantly. After all, Lidotschka, my Lidotschka," he said with a
sudden access of affection, "you've not done harm to anybody; and, if
you were to bring a dozen babies into the world, the only person to
suffer thereby would be yourself."
Sanine paused to reflect, as he folded his arms across his chest and
bit the ends of his moustache.
"I could tell you what you ought to do, but you are too weak and too
foolish to follow my advice. You are not plucky enough. Anyhow, it is
not worth while to commit suicide. Look at the sun shining, at the
calm, flowing stream. Once dead, remember, every one would know what
your condition had been. Of what good, then, would that be to you? It
is not because you are pregnant that you want to die, but because you
are afraid of what other folk will say. The terrible part of your
trouble lies, not in the actual trouble itself, but because you put it
between yourself and your life which, as you think, ought to end. But,
in reality, that will not alter life a jot. You do not fear folk who
are remote, but those who are close to you, especially those who love
you and who regard your surrender as utterly shocking because it was
made in a wood, or a meadow, instead of in a lawful marriage-bed. They
will not be slow to punish you for your offence, so, of what good are
they to you? They are stupid, cruel, brainless people. Why should you
die because of stupid, cruel, brainless people?"
Lida looked up at him with her great questioning eyes in which Sanine
could detect a spark of comprehension.
"But what am I to do? Tell me, what ... what ..." she murmured huskily.
"For you there are two ways open: you must get rid of this child that
nobody wants, and whose birth, as you must see yourself, will only
bring trouble."
Lida's eyes expressed wild horror.
"To kill a being that knows the joy of living and the terror of death
is a grave injustice," he continued; "but a germ, an unconscious mass
of flesh and blood ..."
Lida experienced a strange sensation. At first shame overwhelmed her,
such shame as if she were completely stripped, while brutal fingers
touched her. She dared not look at her brother, fearing that for very
shame they would both expire. But Sanine's grey eyes wore a calm
expression, and his voice was firm and even in tone, as if he were
talking of ordinary matters. It was this quiet strength of utterance
and the profound truth of his words that removed Lida's shame and fear.
Yet suddenly despair prevailed, as she clasped her forehead, while the
flimsy sleeves of her dress fluttered like the wings of a startled
bird.