Page:The Kiss and Other Stories by Anton Tchekhoff, 1908.pdf/229

 I learned no lessons, entered the class-room walking on my hands, and was grossly impertinent — in short, if I had continued in the same spirit to this day, I should be an expert black-mailer. But only a week passed. The secret irritated and tormented me — it was a splinter in my soul. Heedless of results, I could no longer combat the impulse to let it out, and enjoy the effect. One day at dinner when there were many visitors I grinned sheepishly, looked cunningly at Zinotchka, and began —

“‘Aha! I know. . . . I saw. . .’

“‘What did you see?’ asked my mother.

“Again I looked cunningly at Zinotchka, and then Sasha. You should have seen how Zinotchka flared up, and Sasha's ferocious eyes! I bit my tongue and said no more. Zinotchka turned slowly pale, ground her teeth, and ate nothing. During preparation, that evening, I noticed that a sudden change had come over Zinotchka. Her face was severer, colder, marble-like; and her eyes had a strange expression. I give you my word that even in dogs when they tear to pieces a wolf I have never seen such devouring, annihilating eyes. I was soon to learn what the expression meant. In the midst of a lesson Zinotchka ground her teeth and hissed in my face —

“‘I detest you! If you only knew, wretch, disgusting animal, how I hate you ; how I hate your cropped head, your infamous ass's ears!’