Yourii came near to admitting that life was the realization of freedom,
and consequently that it was natural for a man to live for enjoyment.
Thus Riasantzeff's point of view, though inferior, was yet a perfectly
logical one in striving to satisfy his sexual needs as much as
possible, they being the most urgent. But then he had to admit that the
conceptions of debauchery and of purity were merely as withered leaves
that cover fresh grown grass, and that girls romantic and chaste as
Lialia or Sina Karsavina had the right to plunge into the stream of
sensual enjoyment. Such an idea shocked him as being both frivolous and
nasty, and he endeavoured to drive it from his brain and heart with his
usual vehement, stern phrases.
"Well, yes," he thought, gazing upwards at the starry sky, "life is
emotion, but men are not unreasoning beasts. They must master their
passions; their desires must be set upon what is good. Yet, is there a
God beyond the stars?"
As he suddenly asked himself this, a confused, painful sense of awe
seemed to crush him to the ground. Persistently he gazed at a brilliant
star in the tail of the Great Bear and recollected how Kousma the
peasant in the melon-field had called this majestic constellation a
"wheelbarrow." He felt annoyed, in a way, that such an irrelevant
thought should have crossed his mind. He gazed at the black garden in
sharp contrast to the shining sky, pondering, meditating.
"If the world were deprived of feminine purity and grace, that are as
the first sweet flowers of spring, what would remain sacred to
mankind?"
As he thought thus, he pictured to himself a company of lovely maidens,
fair as spring flowers, seated in sunlight on green meadows beneath
blossoming boughs. Their youthful breasts, delicately moulded
shoulders, and supple limbs moved mysteriously before his eyes,
provoking exquisitely voluptuous thrills. As if dazed, he passed his
hand across his brow.
"My nerves are overwrought; I must get to bed," thought he. With
sensuous visions such as these before his eyes, depressed and ill at
ease, Yourii went hurriedly indoors. When in bed, after vain efforts to
sleep, his thoughts reverted to Lialia and Riasantzeff.
"Why am I so indignant because Lialia is not Riasantzeff's only love?"
To this question he could find no reply. Suddenly the image of Sina
Karsavina rose up before him, soothing his heated senses. Yet, though
he strove to suppress his feelings, it became ever clearer to him why
he wanted her to be just as she was, untouched and pure.