g what a lot of sugar we had used in the week, or
hoping the cucumbers would not be too salt. And now, too, I lie
awake at night, but I have different thoughts. I am distressed that
half my life has been passed in such a foolish, cowardly way. I
despise my past; I am ashamed of it. And I look upon our father now
as my enemy. Oh, how grateful I am to your wife! And Vladimir! He
is such a wonderful person! They have opened my eyes!"

"That's bad that you don't sleep at night," I said.

"Do you think I am ill? Not at all. Vladimir sounded me, and said
I was perfectly well. But health is not what matters, it is not so
important. Tell me: am I right?"

She needed moral support, that was obvious. Masha had gone away.
Dr. Blagovo was in Petersburg, and there was no one left in the
town but me, to tell her she was right. She looked intently into
my face, trying to read my secret thoughts, and if I were absorbed
or silent in her presence she thought this was on her account, and
was grieved. I always had to be on my guard, and when she asked me
whether she was right I hastened to assure her that she was right,
and that I had a deep respect for her.

"Do you know they have given me a part at the Azhogins'?" she went
on. "I want to act on the stage, I want to live--in fact, I mean
to drain the full cup. I have no talent, none, and the part is only
ten lines, but still this is immeasurably finer and loftier than
pouring out tea five times a day, and looking to see if the cook
has eaten too much. Above all, let my father see I am capable of
protest."

After tea she lay down on my bed, and lay for a little while with
her eyes closed, looking very pale.

"What weakness," she said, getting up. "Vladimir says all city-bred
women and girls are anaemic from doing nothing. What a clever man
Vladimir is! He is right, absolutely right. We must work!"

Two days later she came to the Azhogins' with her manuscript for
the rehearsal. She was wearing a black dress with a string of coral
round her neck, and a brooch that in the distance was like a pastry
puff, and in her ears earrings sparkling with brilliants. When I
looked at her I felt uncomfortable. I was struck by her lack of
taste. That she had very inappropriately put on earrings and
brilliants, and that she was strangely dressed, was remarked by
other people too; I saw smiles on people's faces, and heard someone
say with a laugh: "Kleopatra of Egypt."

She was trying to assume s