provided for, and if
you have to, then you'll even commit abortion--many do so. But if you
were in my place, when there's nothing to stuff your mouth with, and a
girlie doesn't understand anything yet, because she can't read or
write; while all around the men are shoving like he-dogs--then you'd be
in a sporting house too. It's a shame to put on airs before a poor
girl--that's what!"

Simanovsky, who had gotten into trouble, said a few general consolatory
words in a judicious bass, such as the noble fathers used in olden
comedies, and led his ladies off.

But he was fated to play one more very shameful, distressing, and final
role in the free life of Liubka. She had already complained to Lichonin
for a long time that the presence of Simanovsky was oppressive to her;
but Lichonin paid no attention to womanish trifles: the vacuous,
fictitious, wordy hypnosis of this man of commands was strong within
him. There are influences, to get rid of which is difficult, almost
impossible. On the other hand, he was already for a long time feeling
the burden of co-habitation with Liubka. Frequently he thought to
himself: "She is spoiling my life; I am growing common, foolish; I have
become dissolved in fool benevolence; it will end up in my marrying
her, entering the excise or the assay office, or getting in among
pedagogues; I'll be taking bribes, will gossip, and become an
abominable provincial morel. And where are my dreams of the power of
thought, the beauty of life, of love and deeds for all humanity?" he
would say, at times even aloud, and pull his hair. And for that reason,
instead of attentively going into Liubka's complaints, he would lose
his temper, yell, stamp his feet, and the patient, meek Liubka would
grow quiet and retire into the kitchen, to have a good cry there.

Now more and more frequently, after family quarrels, in the minutes of
reconciliation he would say to Liubka:

"My dear Liuba, you and I do not suit each other, comprehend that.
Look: here are a hundred roubles for you, ride home. Your relatives
will receive you as their own. Live there a while, look around you. I
will come for you after half a year; you'll have become rested, and, of
course, all that's filthy, nasty, that has been grafted upon you by the
city, will go away, will die off. And you'll begin a new life
independently, without any assistance, alone and proud!"

But then, can anything be done with a woman who has come to love for
the first,