"Yes, very much," she replied, so softly that Yourii guessed rather
than heard what she said, striving to restrain her tears of joy. Yet
Yourii thought that he could detect a certain note of sadness in her
voice, and his pity for her, as his hatred of Riasantzeff, increased.
"Why?" he asked, feeling amazed at such a question.
Lialia looked up in astonishment, and laughed gently.
"You silly boy! Why, indeed! Because ... Well, have you never been in
love yourself? He's so good, so honest and upright ..."
"So good-looking, and strong," she would have added, but she only
blushed and said nothing.
"Do you know him well?" asked Yourii.
"I ought not to have asked that," he thought, inwardly vexed, "for, of
course she thinks that he is the best man in the whole world."
"Anatole tells me everything," replied Lialia timidly, yet
triumphantly.
Yourii smiled, and, aware now that there was no going back, retorted,
"Are you quite sure?"
"Of course I am; why should I not be?" Lialia's voice trembled.
"Oh! nothing. I merely asked," said Yourii, somewhat confused.
Lialia was silent. He could not guess what was passing through her
mind.
"Perhaps you know something about him?" she said suddenly. There was a
suggestion of pain in her voice, which puzzled Yourii.
"Oh! no," he said, "not at all. What should I know about Anatole
Pavlovitch?"
"But you would not have spoken like that, otherwise," persisted Lialia.
"All that I meant was--well," Yourii stopped short, feeling half
ashamed, "well, we men, generally speaking, are all thoroughly
depraved, all of us."
Lialia was silent for a while, and then burst out laughing.
"Oh! yes, I know that!" she exclaimed.
Her laughter to him seemed quite out of place.
"You can't take matters so lightly," he replied petulantly, "nor can
you be expected to know everything that goes on. You have no idea of
all the vile things of life; you are too young, too pure."
"Oh! indeed!" said Lialia, laughing, and flattered. Then in a more
serious tone she continued, "Do you suppose that I have not thought of
such things? Indeed, I have; and it has always pained and grieved me
that we women should care so much for our reputation and our chastity,
being afraid to take a step lest we--well, lest we should fall, while
men almost look upon it as an heroic deed to seduce a girl. That is all
horribly unjust, isn't it?"