than you and I do. And that her true, passionate, ardent nature
must fall in with an actor, a flirt like this! But of course that's in
the natural order of things.'

'A flirt! Do you mean that he is a flirt?'

'Of course he is. And tell me yourself, Alexandra Pavlovna, what is his
position in Darya Mihailovna's house? To be the idol, the oracle of
the household, to meddle in the arrangements, all the gossip and petty
trifles of the house--is that a dignified position for a man to be in?'

Alexandra Pavlovna looked at Lezhnyov in surprise.

'I don't know you, Mihailo Mihailitch,' she began to say. 'You are
flushed and excited. I believe there must be something else hidden under
this.'

'Oh, so that's it! Tell a woman the truth from conviction, and she will
never rest easy till she has invented some petty outside cause quite
beside the point which has made you speak in precisely that manner and
no other.'

Alexandra Pavlovna began to get angry.

'Bravo, Monsieur Lezhnyov! You begin to be as bitter against women as
Mr. Pigasov; but you may say what you like, penetrating as you are, it's
hard for me to believe that you understand every one and everything.
I think you are mistaken. According to your ideas, Rudin is a kind of
Tartuffe.'

'No, the point is, that he is not even a Tartuffe. Tartuffe at least
knew what he was aiming at; but this fellow, for all his cleverness----'

'Well, well, what of him? Finish your sentence, you unjust, horrid man!'

Lezhnyov got up.

'Listen, Alexandra Pavlovna,' he began, 'it is you who are unjust, not
I. You are cross with me for my harsh criticism of Rudin; I have the
right to speak harshly of him! I have paid dearly enough, perhaps, for
that privilege. I know him well: I lived a long while with him. You
remember I promised to tell you some time about our life at Moscow. It
is clear that I must do so now. But will you have the patience to hear
me out?'

'Tell me, tell me!'

'Very well, then.'

Lezhnyov began walking with measured steps about the room, coming to a
standstill at times with his head bent.

'You know, perhaps,' he began, 'or perhaps you don't know, that I was
left an orphan at an early age, and by the time I was seventeen I had no
one in authority over me. I lived at my aunt's at Moscow, and did just
as I liked. As a boy I was rather silly and conceited, and liked to
brag and show off. After my entrance at the university I behaved like
a regular schoolboy,