“Of course, I know,” he began, with an exaggerated air of nonchalance, “I know that to you men-about-town these country wenches are extraordinarily attractive. But you’re wrong. They’re fresh and plump, it’s true, but they’ve no _chic_; they don’t know how to make love artistically.”
In a moment Volochine was all animation. His eyes sparkled, and there was a change in the tone of his voice.
“No, that’s quite true. But after a while all that sort of thing is apt to become boring. Our Petersburg women are not well made. You know what I mean? They’re just bundles of nerves; they’ve no limbs on them. Now here …”
“Yes, you’re right,” said Sarudine, growing interested in his turn, as he twirled his moustache complacently.
“Take off her corset, and the smartest Petersburg woman becomes—Oh! by the way, have you heard the latest?” said Volochine, interrupting himself.
“No, I dare say not,” replied Sarudine, leaning forward, eagerly.
“Well,” said the other, “it’s an awfully good story about a Parisian _cocotte_.” Then, with much wealth of detail, Volochine proceeded to relate a spicy anecdote that pleased his companion vastly.
“Yes,” said Volochine in conclusion, as he rolled his eyes, “shape’s everything in a woman. If she hasn’t got that, well, for me she simply doesn’t exist.”
Sarudine thought of Lida’s beauty, and he shrank from discussing it with Volochine. However, after a pause, he observed with much affectation:
“Every one to his taste. What I like most in a woman is the back; that sinuous line, don’t you know….”
“Some women, especially very young ones, have got …”
The orderly now entered treading clumsily in his heavy boots. He had come to light the lamp, and during the process of striking matches and jingling the glass shade, Sarudine and Volochine were silent.
As the flame of the lamp rose, only their glittering eyes and the glowing cigarette-ends could be seen. When the soldier had gone out, they returned to their subject, the word “Woman” forming the theme of talk that became at times grotesque in its obscenity. Sarudine’s instinctive longing to boast, and to eclipse Volochine led him at last to speak of the splendid woman who had yielded to his charms, and gradually to reveal his own secret lasciviousness. Before the eyes of Volochine, Lida was exhibited as in a state of nudity, her physical attributes and her passion all being displayed as though she were some animal for sale at a fair. By their filthy thoughts she was touched and polluted and held up to ridicule. Their love of woman knew no gratitude for the enjoyment given to them; they merely strove to humiliate and insult the sex, to inflict upon it indescribable pain.