Explore "Sanine" by Mikhail Artsybashev on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Come to my place, and we will hold a memorial service for the departed," said Ivanoff to Sanine. The latter nodded his acceptance. On the way, they bought vodka and hors d'oeuvres, and overtook Yourii Svarogitsch, who was walking slowly along the boulevard, looking much depressed.
Semenoff's death had made a confused and painful impression upon him which he found it necessary, yet almost impossible, to analyse.