it does not matter; I am dying, you
see... And what do you fear? why are you afraid? Lift up your head...
Or, perhaps, you don't love me; perhaps I am wrong... In that case,
forgive me.' 'Aleksandra Andreyevna, what are you saying!... I love
you, Aleksandra Andreyevna.' She looked straight into my eyes, and
opened her arms wide. 'Then take me in your arms.' I tell you frankly,
I don't know how it was I did not go mad that night. I feel that my
patient is killing herself; I see that she is not fully herself; I
understand, too, that if she did not consider herself on the point of
death, she would never have thought of me; and, indeed, say what you
will, it's hard to die at twenty without having known love; this was
what was torturing her; this was why, in, despair, she caught at
me--do you understand now? But she held me in her arms, and would not
let me go. 'Have pity on me, Aleksandra Andreyevna, and have pity on
yourself,' I say. 'Why,' she says; 'what is there to think of? You
know I must die.' ... This she repeated incessantly ... 'If I knew
that I should return to life, and be a proper young lady again, I
should be ashamed ... of course, ashamed ... but why now?' 'But who
has said you will die?' 'Oh, no, leave off! you will not deceive me;
you don't know how to lie--look at your face.' ... 'You shall live,
Aleksandra Andreyevna; I will cure you; we will ask your mother's
blessing ... we will be united--we will be happy.' 'No, no, I have
your word; I must die ... you have promised me ... you have told me.'
... It was cruel for me--cruel for many reasons. And see what trifling
things can do sometimes; it seems nothing at all, but it's painful. It
occurred to her to ask me, what is my name; not my surname, but my
first name. I must needs be so unlucky as to be called Trifon. Yes,
indeed; Trifon Ivanich. Every one in the house called me doctor.
However, there's no help for it. I say, 'Trifon, madam.' She frowned,
shook her head, and muttered something in French--ah, something
unpleasant, of course!--and then she laughed--disagreeably too. Well,
I spent the whole night with her in this way. Before morning I went
away, feeling as though I were mad. When I went again into her room it
was daytime, after morning tea. Good God! I could scarcely recognise
her; people are laid in their grave looking better than that. I swear
to you, on my honour, I don't understand--I absolutely don't
understand--now, how I lived through that ex