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flushed；　her　eyes　shone；　and　there　was　a　smile　on　her　lipswhat

was　the　meaning　of　it？　　Against　my　will　I　waited：　she　came　back　a

minute　later　with　an　expression　that　seemed　to　ask　forgiveness

for　something。　　In　fact；　it　was　not　the　same　face；　not　the　same

look　as　the　evening　before：　sullen；　mistrustful　and　obstinate。　

Her　eyes　now　were　imploring；　soft；　and　at　the　same　time　trustful；

caressing；　timid。　　The　expression　with　which　children　look　at

people　they　are　very　fond　of；　of　whom　they　are　asking　a　favour。　

Her　eyes　were　a　light　hazel；　they　were　lovely　eyes；　full　of　life；

and　capable　of　expressing　love　as　well　as　sullen　hatred。



Making　no　explanation；　as　though　I；　as　a　sort　of　higher　being；

must　understand　everything　without　explanations；　she　held　out　a

piece　of　paper　to　me。　　Her　whole　face　was　positively　beaming　at

that　instant　with　naive；　almost　childish；　triumph。　　I　unfolded

it。　　It　was　a　letter　to　her　from　a　medical　student　or　someone　of

that　sorta　very　high…flown　and　flowery；　but　extremely

respectful；　love…letter。　　I　don't　recall　the　words　now；　but　I

remember　well　that　through　the　high…flown　phrases　there　was

apparent　a　genuine　feeling；　which　cannot　be　feigned。　　When　I　had

finished　reading　it　I　met　her　glowing；　questioning；　and

childishly　impatient　eyes　fixed　upon　me。　　She　fastened　her　eyes

upon　my　face　and　waited　impatiently　for　what　I　should　say。　　In　a

few　words；　hurriedly；　but　with　a　sort　of　joy　and　pride；　she

explained　to　me　that　she　had　been　to　a　dance　somewhere　in　a

private　house；　a　family　of　〃very　nice　people；　_who　knew　nothing_；

absolutely　nothing；　for　she　had　only　come　here　so　lately　and　it

had　all　happened。。。and　she　hadn't　made　up　her　mind　to　stay　and

was　certainly　going　away　as　soon　as　she　had　paid　her　debt。。。〃　and

at　that　party　there　had　been　the　student　who　had　danced　with　her

all　the　evening。　　He　had　talked　to　her；　and　it　turned　out　that　he

had　known　her　in　old　days　at　Riga　when　he　was　a　child；　they　had

played　together；　but　a　very　long　time　agoand　he　knew　her

parents；　but　_about　this_　he　knew　nothing；　nothing　whatever；　and

had　no　suspicion！　　And　the　day　after　the　dance　（three　days　ago）

he　had　sent　her　that　letter　through　the　friend　with　whom　she　had

gone　to　the　party。。。and。。。well；　that　was　all。〃



She　dropped　her　shining　eyes　with　a　sort　of　bashfulness　as　she

finished。



The　poor　girl　was　keeping　that　student's　letter　as　a　precious

treasure；　and　had　run　to　fetch　it；　her　only　treasure；　because　she

did　not　want　me　to　go　away　without　knowing　that　she；　too；　was

honestly　and　genuinely　loved；　that　she；　too；　was　addressed

respectfully。　　No　doubt　that　letter　was　destined　to　lie　in　her

box　and　lead　to　nothing。　　But　none　the　less；　I　am　certain　that

she　would　keep　it　all　her　life　as　a　precious　treasure；　as　her

pride　and　justification；　and　now　at　such　a　minute　she　had　thought

of　that　letter　and　brought　it　with　naive　pride　to　raise　herself

in　my　eyes　that　I　might　see；　that　I；　too；　might　think　well　of

her。　　I　said　nothing；　pressed　her　hand　and　went　out。　　I　so　longed

to　get　away。。。I　walked　all　the　way　home；　in　spite　of　the　fact

that　the　melting　snow　was　still　falling　in　heavy　flakes。　　I　was

exhausted；　shattered；　in　bewilderment。　　But　behind　the

bewilderment　the　truth　was　already　gleaming。　　The　loathsome

truth。





VIII



It　was　some　time；　however；　before　I　consented　to　recognise　that

truth。　　Waking　up　in　the　morning　after　some　hours　of　heavy；

leaden　sleep；　and　immediately　realising　all　that　had　happened　on

the　previous　day；　I　was　positively　amazed　at　my　last　night's

_sentimentality_　with　Liza；　at　all　those　〃outcries　of　horror　and

pity。〃　　〃To　think　of　having　such　an　attack　of　womanish　hysteria；

pah！〃　I　concluded。　　And　what　did　I　thrust　my　address　upon　her

for？　　What　if　she　comes？　　Let　her　come；　though；　it　doesn't

matter。。。。But　_obviously_；　that　was　not　now　the　chief　and　the

most　important　matter：　I　had　to　make　haste　and　at　all　costs　save

my　reputation　in　the　eyes　of　Zverkov　and　Simonov　as　quickly　as

possible；　that　was　the　chief　business。　　And　I　was　so　taken　up

that　morning　that　I　actually　forgot　all　about　Liza。



First　of　all　I　had　at　once　to　repay　what　I　had　borrowed　the　day

before　from　Simonov。　　I　resolved　on　a　desperate　measure：　to

borrow　fifteen　roubles　straight　off　from　Anton　Antonitch。　　As

luck　would　have　it　he　was　in　the　best　of　humours　that　morning；

and　gave　it　to　me　at　once；　on　the　first　asking。　　I　was　so

delighted　at　this　that；　as　I　signed　the　IOU　with　a　swaggering

air；　I　told　him　casually　that　the　night　before　〃I　had　been

keeping　it　up　with　some　friends　at　the　Hotel　de　Paris；　we　were

giving　a　farewell　party　to　a　comrade；　in　fact；　I　might　say　a

friend　of　my　childhood；　and　you　knowa　desperate　rake；　fearfully

spoiltof　course；　he　belongs　to　a　good　family；　and　has

considerable　means；　a　brilliant　career；　he　is　witty；　charming；　a

regular　Lovelace；　you　understand；　we　drank　an　extra　'half…dozen'

and。。。〃　　And　it　went　off　all　right；　all　this　was　uttered　very

easily；　unconstrainedly　and　complacently。



On　reaching　home　I　promptly　wrote　to　Simonov。



To　this　hour　I　am　lost　in　admiration　when　I　recall　the　truly

gentlemanly；　good…humoured；　candid　tone　of　my　letter。　　With　tact

and　good…breeding；　and；　above　all；　entirely　without　superfluous

words；　I　blamed　myself　for　all　that　had　happened。　　I　defended

myself；　〃if　I　really　may　be　allowed　to　defend　myself；〃　by

alleging　that　being　utterly　unaccustomed　to　wine；　I　had　been

intoxicated　with　the　first　glass；　which　I　said；　I　had　drunk

before　they　arrived；　while　I　was　waiting　for　them　at　the　Hotel　de

Paris　between　five　and　six　o'clock。　　I　begged　Simonov's　pardon

especially；　I　asked　him　to　convey　my　explanations　to　all　the

others；　especially　to　Zverkov；　whom　〃I　seemed　to　remember　as

though　in　a　dream〃　I　had　insulted。　　I　added　that　I　would　have

called　upon　all　of　them　myself；　but　my　head　ached；　and　besides　I

had　not　the　face　to。　　I　was　particularly　pleased　with　a　certain

lightness；　almost　carelessness　（strictly　within　the　bounds　of

politeness；　however）；　which　was　apparent　in　my　style；　and　better

than　any　possible　arguments；　gave　them　at　once　to　understand　that

I　took　rather　an　independent　view　of　〃all　that　unpleasantness

last　night〃；　that　I　was　by　no　means　so　utterly　crushed　as　you；　my

friends；　probably　imagine；　but　on　the　contrary；　looked　upon　it　as

a　gentleman　serenely　respecting　himself　should　look　upon　it。　　〃On

a　young　hero's　past　no　censure　is　cast！〃



〃There　is　actually　an　aristocratic　playfulness　about　it！〃　　I

thought　admiringly；　as　I　read　over　the　letter。　　〃And　it's　all

because　I　am　an　intellectual　and　cultivated　man！　　Another　man　in

my　place　would　not　have　known　how　to　extricate　himself；　but　here

I　have　got　out　of　it　and　am　as　jolly　as　ever　again；　and　all

because　I　am　'a　cultivated　and　educated　man　of　our　day。'　　And；

indeed；　perhaps；　everything　was　due　to　the　wine　yesterday。　　H'm！〃

。。。no；　it　was　not　the　wine。　　I　did　not　drink　anything　at　all

between　five　and　six　when　I　was　waiting　for　them。　　I　had　lied　to

Simonov；　I　had　lied　shamelessly；　and　indeed　I　wasn't　ashamed

now。。。。　Hang　it　all　though；　the　great　thing　was　that　I　was　rid　of

it。



I　put　six　roubles　in　the　letter；　sealed　it　up；　and　asked　Apollon

to　take　it　to　Simonov。　　When　he　learned　that　there　was　money　in

the　letter；　Apollon　became　more　respectful　and　agreed　to　take　it。　

Towards　evening　I　went　out　for　a　walk。　　My　head　was　still　aching

and　giddy　after　yesterday。　　But　as　evening　came　on　and　the

twilight　grew　denser；　my　impressions　and；　following　them；　my

thoughts；　grew　more　and　more　different　and　confused。　　Something

was　not　dead　within　me；　in　the　depths　of　my　heart　and　conscience

it　would　not　die；　and　it　showed　itself　in　acute　depression。　　For

the　most　part　I　jostled　my　way　through　the　most　crowded　business

streets；　along　Myeshtchansky　Street；　along　Sadovy　Street　and　in

Yusupov　Garden。　　I　always　liked　particularly　sauntering　along

these　streets　in　the　dusk；　just　when　there　were　crowds　of　working

people　of　all　sorts　going　home　from　their　daily　work；　with　faces

looking　cross　with　anxiety。　　What　I　liked　was　just　that　cheap

bustle；　that　bare　prose。　　On　this　occasion　the　jostling　of　the

streets　irritated　me　more　than　ever；　I　could　not　make　out　what

was　wrong　with　me；　I　could　not　find　the　clue；　something　seemed

rising　up　continually　in　my　soul；　painfully；　and　refusing　to　be

appeased。　　I　returned　home　completely　upset；　it　was　just　as

though　some　crime　were　lying　on　my　conscience。



The　thought　that　Liza　was　coming　worried　me　continually。　　It

seemed　queer　to　me　that　of　all　my　recollections　of　yesterday　this

tormented　me；　as　it　were；　especially；　as　it　were；　quite

separately。　　Everything　else　I　had　quite　succeeded　in　forgetting

by　the　evening；　I　dismissed　it　all　and　was　still　perfectly

satisfied　with　my　letter　to　Simonov。　　But　on　this　point　I　was　not

satisfied　at　all。　　It　was　as　though　I　were　w