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Page:Anthology of Modern Slavonic Literature in Prose and Verse by Paul Selver.djvu/194

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170
FRÁŇA ŠRÁMEK
JENIK (goes up to her and takes her by the hands): Good heavens, Lidka, what's the matter with you? Where have you been?
LIDKA (shakes her head as if she were passing through mists: with an endeavour to smile): I've been down at Hořický's . . . I ran quickly up the stairs. . . I came over faint for a moment . . . But I'm all right again now.
JENIK (musingly): I oughtn't to have told you that.
LIDKA: What oughtn't you to have told me. .?
JENIK: Well, that it's June outside . . . and . . .
LIDKA (her face bursts into radiance, as it were, from within): That it's June outside. . .
JENIK: I've been whispering such curious things to you. . .
LIDKA (in suspense): And were they untrue?
JENIK: They weren't untrue, but . . .
LIDKA (joyfully, passionately): They weren't untrue, they weren't untrue! (Suddenly throwing her arms round Jenik's neck; softly): Jenik, do you know what I'm reminded of? When we were speaking about Anna Karenina to-day, you said: Who wants to condemn her, who wants to cast the first stone. . .? You remember saying that, don't you? Yes, now I know, now I know all. . .
JENIK (freeing himself from her embrace): What a young hoyden you are, Lidka. . .!
LIDKA: Are you angry with me for that?