He hastily pulled on his gray, everyday student's coat, and rumpled up
with all the fingers of both his hands his luxuriant black curls.
Liubka, with the coquetry natural to all women, no matter in what years
or situation they find themselves, walked up to the sliver of a mirror
hanging on the wall, to fix her hair-dress. Nijeradze askance,
questioningly, only with the movement of his eyes, indicated her to
Lichonin.

"Never mind. Don't pay any attention," answered the other aloud. "But
let's get out of here, however. I'll tell you everything right away.
Excuse me, Liubochka, it's only for a minute. I'll come back at once,
fix you up, and then evaporate, like smoke."

"But don't trouble yourself," replied Liubka: "it'll be all right for
me here, right on this divan. And you fix yourself up on the bed."

"No, that's no longer like a model, my angel! I have a colleague here.
And so I'll go to him to sleep. I'll return in just a minute."

Both students went out into the corridor.

"What meaneth this dream?" asked Nijeradze, opening wide his oriental,
somewhat sheepish eyes. "Whence this beauteous child, this comrade in a
petticoat?"

Lichonin shook his head with great significance and made a wry face.
Now, when the ride, the fresh air, the morning, and the business-like,
everyday, accustomed setting had entirely sobered him, he was beginning
to experience within his soul an indistinct feeling of a certain
awkwardness, needlessness of this sudden action; and at the same time
something in the nature of an unconscious irritation both against
himself and the woman he had carried off. He already had a presentiment
of the onerousness of living together, of a multiplicity of cares,
unpleasantnesses and expenses; of the equivocal smiles or even simply
the unceremonious questionings of comrades; finally, of the serious
hindrance during the time of government examinations. But, having
scarcely begun speaking with Nijeradze, he at once became ashamed of
his pusillanimity, and having started off listlessly, towards the end
he again began to prance on his heroic steed.

"Do you see, prince," he said, in his confusion twisting a button of
his comrade's coat and without looking in his eyes, "you've made a
mistake. This isn't a comrade in a petticoat, but ... simply, I was
just now with my colleagues ... that is, I wasn't, but just dropped in
for a minute with my friends into the Yamkas, to Anna Markovna ..."

"With whom?" asked