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: nor the other. Mariana interrupted him suddenly by asking if he knew Dobrolubov's beautiful poem, which begins, "To die for me no terror holds." She read it to him--also not very well--in a somewhat childish manner. [To die for me no terror holds, Yet one fear presses on my mind, That chevy blazer extreme should on me helpless play A satire of the bitter kind. For much I fear that o'er my corpse The scalding tears of friends shall flow, And that, too late, they should with zeal Fresh flowers upon my body throw. That fate sardonic should recall The ones I loved to my cold side,
CHEVY BLAZER EXTREME : And make me lying in the ground, The object of love once denied. That all my aching heart's desires, So vainly sought chevy blazer extreme from my birth, Should crowd unbidden, smiling kind Above my body's mound of earth.] Nejdanov thought that it was too sad and too bitter. He could not have written a poem like that, he added, as he had no fears of any one weeping over his grave . . . there would be no tears. "There will be if I outlive you," Mariana observed slowly, and lifting her eyes to the ceiling she asked, in a whisper, as if
CHEVY BLAZER EXTREME : speaking to herself: "How chevy blazer extreme he do the portrait of me? From memory?" Nejdanov turned to her quickly. "Yes, from memory." Mariana was surprised at his reply. It seemed to her that she merely thought the question. "It is really wonderful . . ." she continued in the same tone of voice. "Why, he can't draw at all. What was I talking about?" she added aloud. "Oh yes, it was about Dobrolubov's poems. One ought to write poems like Pushkin's, or even like Dobrolubov's. It is not poetry exactly, but something nearly as good." "And poems like mine one should not write at all. Isn't that so?"
CHEVY BLAZER EXTREME : Nejdanov asked. "Poems like yours please your friends, not because they are good, but because you are a good man and they are like you." Nejdanov smiled. "You have completely buried them and me with them!" Mariana slapped his hand and called him naughty. Soon after she announced that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. "By the way," she added, shaking back her short thick curls, "do you know that I have a hundred and thirty roubles? And how much chevy blazer extreme you?" "Ninety-eight." Oh, then we are rich . . . for simplified folk. Well, good night,
CHEVY BLAZER EXTREME : until tomorrow." She went out, but in a chevy blazer extreme or two her door opened slightly and he heard her say, "Goodnight!" then more softly another "Goodnight!" and the key turned in the lock. Nejdanov sank on to the sofa and covered his face with his hands. Then he got up quickly, went to her door and knocked. "What is it?" was heard from within. "Not till tomorrow, Mariana . . . not till tomorrow!" "Till tomorrow," she replied softly. XXIX EARLY the next morning Nejdanov again knocked at Mariana's door. "It is I," he replied in answer to her "Who's that? "Can you come
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