inclination, not to a prostitute, not to a street-walker, not
to a seeker of adventures, but to a pure girl. Of course, only a
disinterested, unreasoning, truly-maternal feeling guided her. Kolya at
that time was living through the epoch of llanos, pampases, Apaches,
track-finders, and a chief by the name of "Black Panther"; and, of
course, attentively kept track of the romance of his brother, and made
his own syllogisms; at times only too correct, at times fantastic.
After six months, from behind a door, he was the witness--or more
correctly the auditor--of an outrageous scene. The wife of the general,
always so respectable and restrained, was yelling in her boudoir at
signorita Anita, and cursing in the words of a cab-driver: the
signorita was in the fifth month of pregnancy. If she had not cried,
then, probably, they would simply have given her smart-money, and she
would have gone away in peace; but she was in love with the young
master, did not demand anything, and for that reason they drove her
away with the aid of the police.

In the fifth or sixth class many of Kolya's comrades had already tasted
of the tree of knowledge of evil. At that time it was considered in
their corpus an especial, boastful masculine chic to call all secret
things by their own names. Arkasha Shkar contracted a disease, not
dangerous, but still venereal; and he became for three whole months the
object of worship of all the seniors--at that time there were no squads
yet. And many of them visited brothels; and, really, about their sprees
they spoke far more handsomely and broadly than the hussars of the time
of Denis Davidov.[23] These debauches were esteemed by them the last
word in valour and maturity.

[23] A Russian ban vivant, wit and poet (1781-1839), the overwhelming
majority of whose lyrics deals with military exploits and
debauches.--Trans.

And so it happened once, that they did not exactly persuade Gladishev
to go to Anna Markovna, but rather he himself had begged to go, so
weakly had he resisted temptation. This evening he always recalled with
horror, with aversion; and dimly, just like some heavy dream. With
difficulty he recalled, how in the cab, to get up courage, he had drunk
rum, revoltingly smelling of real bedbugs; how qualmish this beastly
drink made him feel; how he had walked into the big hall, where the
lights of the lustres and the candelabra on the walls were turning
round in fiery wheels; where the women move