in hysterics and would blame Pyotr Dmitritch. She made an effort
to restrain herself, but her sobs grew louder and louder every
minute.

"For God's sake," she cried in a voice not like her own, and not
knowing why she cried it. "For God's sake!"

She felt as though the bed were heaving under her and her feet were
entangled in the bed-clothes. Pyotr Dmitritch, in his dressing-gown,
with a candle in his hand, came into the bedroom.

"Olya, hush!" he said.

She raised herself, and kneeling up in bed, screwing up her eyes
at the light, articulated through her sobs:

"Understand . . . understand! . . . ."

She wanted to tell him that she was tired to death by the party,
by his falsity, by her own falsity, that it had all worked together,
but she could only articulate:

"Understand . . . understand!"

"Come, drink!" he said, handing her some water.

She took the glass obediently and began drinking, but the water
splashed over and was spilt on her arms, her throat and knees.

"I must look horribly unseemly," she thought.

Pyotr Dmitritch put her back in bed without a word, and covered her
with the quilt, then he took the candle and went out.

"For God's sake!" Olga Mihalovna cried again. "Pyotr, understand,
understand!"

Suddenly something gripped her in the lower part of her body and
back with such violence that her wailing was cut short, and she bit
the pillow from the pain. But the pain let her go again at once,
and she began sobbing again.

The maid came in, and arranging the quilt over her, asked in alarm:

"Mistress, darling, what is the matter?"

"Go out of the room," said Pyotr Dmitritch sternly, going up to the
bed.

"Understand . . . understand! . . ." Olga Mihalovna began.

"Olya, I entreat you, calm yourself," he said. "I did not mean to
hurt you. I would not have gone out of the room if I had known it
would have hurt you so much; I simply felt depressed. I tell you,
on my honour . . ."

"Understand! . . . You were lying, I was lying. . . ."

"I understand. . . . Come, come, that's enough! I understand," said
Pyotr Dmitritch tenderly, sitting down on her bed. "You said that
in anger; I quite understand. I swear to God I love you beyond
anything on earth, and when I married you I never once thought of
your being rich. I loved you immensely, and that's all . . . I
assure you. I have never been in want of money or felt the value
of it, and so I cannot feel the difference between your fortun