buy
for that sum a fashionable short jacket, nor a big hat, nor a pair
of bronze shoes, and without those things she had a feeling of
being, as it were, undressed. She felt as though the very horses
and dogs were staring and laughing at the plainness of her dress.
And clothes were all she thought about: the question what she should
eat and where she should sleep did not trouble her in the least.

"If only I could meet a gentleman friend," she thought to herself,
"I could get some money. . . . There isn't one who would refuse me,
I know. . ."

But no gentleman she knew came her way. It would be easy enough to
meet them in the evening at the "Renaissance," but they wouldn't
let her in at the "Renaissance" in that shabby dress and with no
hat. What was she to do?

After long hesitation, when she was sick of walking and sitting and
thinking, Vanda made up her mind to fall back on her last resource:
to go straight to the lodgings of some gentleman friend and ask for
money.

She pondered which to go to. "Misha is out of the question; he's a
married man. . . . The old chap with the red hair will be at his
office at this time. . ."

Vanda remembered a dentist, called Finkel, a converted Jew, who six
months ago had given her a bracelet, and on whose head she had once
emptied a glass of beer at the supper at the German Club. She was
awfully pleased at the thought of Finkel.

"He'll be sure to give it me, if only I find him at home," she
thought, as she walked in his direction. "If he doesn't, I'll smash
all the lamps in the house."

Before she reached the dentist's door she thought out her plan of
action: she would run laughing up the stairs, dash into the dentist's
room and demand twenty-five roubles. But as she touched the bell,
this plan seemed to vanish from her mind of itself. Vanda began
suddenly feeling frightened and nervous, which was not at all her
way. She was bold and saucy enough at drinking parties, but now,
dressed in everyday clothes, feeling herself in the position of an
ordinary person asking a favour, who might be refused admittance,
she felt suddenly timid and humiliated. She was ashamed and frightened.

"Perhaps he has forgotten me by now," she thought, hardly daring
to pull the bell. "And how can I go up to him in such a dress,
looking like a beggar or some working girl?"

And she rang the bell irresolutely.

She heard steps coming: it was the porter.

"Is the doctor at home?" she asked.