Amid the burning turmoil of carouses, in the crowd of people,
seized by debauchery, perplexed by violent passions, half-crazy
in their longing to forget themselves--only Sasha was calm and
contained. She never drank to intoxication, always addressed
people in a firm, authoritative voice, and all her movements were
equally confident, as though this stream had not taken possession
of her, but she was herself mastering its violent course. She
seemed to Foma the cleverest person of all those that surrounded
him, and the most eager for noise and carouse; she held them all
in her sway, forever inventing something new and speaking in one
and the same manner to everybody; for the driver, the lackey and
the sailor she had the same tone and the same words as for her
friends and for Foma. She was younger and prettier than Pelageya,
but her caresses were silent, cold. Foma imagined that deep in
her heart she was concealing from everybody something terrible,
that she would never love anyone, never reveal herself entire.
This secrecy in the woman attracted him toward her with a feeling
of timorous curiosity, of a great, strained interest in her calm,
cold soul, which seemed even as dark as her eyes.
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