The jokers of our company used to say
of him, that he stood up every morning before his own uniform, and
saluted it as it hung on the wall. . . .
In short, he liked to mingle with people and to make merry; then he
was always the happiest of all.
Of course, he also had been invited to that wedding.
Marusya, too, was there, and that was against her habit. She kept
away from all kinds of public gatherings and festivities. And right
she was, too, in staying away. For it was in the company of other
girls that her brooding, melancholy disposition showed itself most
clearly. Did I say melancholy? No it was not exactly melancholy.
It was rather the feeling of total isolation, which one could not
help reading on her face. And a total stranger she certainly was in
that throng. When she kept quiet, her very silence betrayed her
presence among the chattering girls. One could almost hear her
silence. And when she did take part in the conversation, her voice
somehow sounded strange and far away in the chorus of voices. Her
very dress seemed different, though she was dressed just like any
other of the village girls.
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