his lungs after the night, passed without sleep, in a
crowded and smoke-filled compartment. But the beauty and loftiness of
his own action moved him still more.

Yes, he had acted like a man, like a real man, in the highest sense of
that word! Even now he is not repenting of what he had done. It's all
right for them (to whom this "them" applied, Lichonin did not properly
understand even himself), it's all right for them to talk about the
horrors of prostitution; to talk, sitting at tea, with rolls and
sausage, in the presence of pure and cultured girls. But had any one of
his colleagues taken some actual step toward liberating a woman from
perdition? Eh, now? And then there is also--the sort that will come to
this same Sonechka Marmeladova, will tell her all sorts of taradiddles,
describe all kinds of horrors to her, butt into her soul, until he
brings her to tears; and right off will start in crying himself and
begin to console her, embrace her, pat her on the head, kiss her at
first on the cheek, then on the lips; well, and everybody knows what
happens next! Faugh! But with him, with Lichonin, the word and the deed
were never at odds.

He clasped Liubka around the waist, and looked at her with kindly,
almost loving, eyes; although, the very same minute, he himself thought
that he was regarding her as a father or a brother.

Sleep was fearfully besetting Liubka; her eyes would close, and she
with an effort would open them wide, so as not to fall asleep again;
while on her lips lay the same naive, childish, tired smile, which
Lichonin had noticed still there, in the cabinet. And out of one corner
of her mouth ran a thin trickle of saliva.

"Liubka, my dear! My darling, much-suffering woman! Behold how fine it
is all around! Lord! Here it's five years that I haven't seen the
sunrise. Now play at cards, now drinking, now I had to hurry to the
university. Behold, my dearest, over there the dawn has burst into
bloom. The sun is near! This is your dawn, Liubochka! This is your new
life beginning. You will fearlessly lean upon my strong arm. I shall
lead you out upon the road of honest toil, on the way to a brave combat
with life, face to face with it!"

Liubka eyed him askance. "There, the fumes are still playing in his
head," she thought kindly. "But that's nothing--he's kind and a good
sort. Only a trifle homely." And, having smiled with a half-sleepy
smile, she said in a tone of capricious reproach:

"Ye--es! You'l