d plough has Mikhey, and a good
one has Sisoi as well... a swallow... a swing ... the children love
God..." And as a reward for this Soloviev read aloud to her Of the
Merchant Kalashnikov and of Kiribeievich, Life-guardsman of Czar Ivan
the Fourth. Liubka from delight bounced in her armchair, clapped her
hands. The beauty of this monumental, heroic work had her in its grasp.
But she did not have a chance to express her impressions in full.
Soloviev was hurrying to a business appointment. And immediately,
coming to meet Soloviev, having barely exchanged greetings with him in
the doorway, came Simanovsky. Liubka's face sadly lengthened and her
lips pouted. For this pedantic teacher and coarse male had become very
repugnant to her of late.

This time he began a lecture on the theme that for man there exist no
laws, no rights, no duties, no honour, no vileness; and that man is a
quantity self-sufficient, independent of anyone and anything.

"It's possible to be a God, possible to be an intestinal worm, a tape
worm--it's all the same."

He already wanted to pass on to the theory of amatory emotions; but, it
is to be regretted, he hurried a trifle from impatience: he embraced
Liubka, drew her to him and began to squeeze her roughly. "She'll
become intoxicated from caressing. She'll give in!" thought the
calculating Simanovsky. He sought to touch her mouth with his lips for
a kiss, but she screamed and snorted spit at him. All the assumed
delicacy had left her.

"Get out, you mangy devil, fool, swine, dirt! I'll smash your snout for
you! ..."

All the lexicon of the establishment had come back to her; but
Simanovsky, having lost his pince-nez, his face distorted, was looking
at her with blurred eyes and jabbering whatever came into his head:

"My dear ... It's all the same ... a second of enjoyment! ... You and I
will blend in enjoyment! ... No one will find out! ... Be mine! ..."

It was just at this very minute that Lichonin walked into the room.

Of course, at soul he did not admit to himself that this minute he
would commit a vileness; but only somehow from the side, at a distance,
reflected that his face was pale, and that his immediate words would be
tragic and of great significance.

"Yes!" he said dully, like an actor in the fourth act of a drama; and,
letting his hands drop impotently, began to shake his chin, which had
fallen upon his breast. "I expected everything, only not this. You I
excuse, Liuba--you