in the fur-lined coat was going to speak again, and put his
hands to his head, but could not express what he wanted to say.

'Never loved! ... Yes, quite true, I never have! But after all, I have
within me a desire to love, and nothing could be stronger than that
desire! But then, again, does such love exist? There always remains
something incomplete. Ah well! What's the use of talking? I've made an
awful mess of life! But anyhow it's all over now; you are quite right.
And I feel that I am beginning a new life.'

'Which you will again make a mess of,' said the man who lay on the sofa
playing with his watch-key. But the traveller did not listen to him.

'I am sad and yet glad to go,' he continued. 'Why I am sad I don't
know.'

And the traveller went on talking about himself, without noticing that
this did not interest the others as much as it did him. A man is never
such an egotist as at moments of spiritual ecstasy. At such times it
seems to him that there is nothing on earth more splendid and
interesting than himself.

'Dmitri Andreich! The coachman won't wait any longer!' said a young
serf, entering the room in a sheepskin coat, with a scarf tied round
his head. 'The horses have been standing since twelve, and it's now
four o'clock!'

Dmitri Andreich looked at his serf, Vanyusha. The scarf round
Vanyusha's head, his felt boots and sleepy face, seemed to be calling
his master to a new life of labour, hardship, and activity.

'True enough! Good-bye!' said he, feeling for the unfastened hook and
eye on his coat.

In spite of advice to mollify the coachman by another tip, he put on
his cap and stood in the middle of the room. The friends kissed once,
then again, and after a pause, a third time. The man in the fur-lined
coat approached the table and emptied a champagne glass, then took the
plain little man's hand and blushed.

'Ah well, I will speak out all the same ... I must and will be frank
with you because I am fond of you ... Of course you love her--I always
thought so--don't you?'

'Yes,' answered his friend, smiling still more gently.

'And perhaps...'

'Please sir, I have orders to put out the candles,' said the sleepy
attendant, who had been listening to the last part of the conversation
and wondering why gentlefolk always talk about one and the same thing.
'To whom shall I make out the bill? To you, sir?' he added, knowing
whom to address and turning to the tall man.

'To me,' replied the tall