some
obvious absurdity such as: "I was driving by, and I thought I would just
look in for a minute."

We all three go indoors; first we drink tea, then the familiar packs
of cards, the big piece of cheese, the fruit, and the bottle of Crimean
champagne are put upon the table. The subjects of our conversation are
not new; they are just the same as in the winter. We fall foul of the
University, the students, and literature and the theatre; the air grows
thick and stifling with evil speaking, and poisoned by the breath,
not of two toads as in the winter, but of three. Besides the velvety
baritone laugh and the giggle like the gasp of a concertina, the maid
who waits upon us hears an unpleasant cracked "He, he!" like the chuckle
of a general in a vaudeville.

V

There are terrible nights with thunder, lightning, rain, and wind, such
as are called among the people "sparrow nights." There has been one such
night in my personal life.

I woke up after midnight and leaped suddenly out of bed. It seemed to
me for some reason that I was just immediately going to die. Why did
it seem so? I had no sensation in my body that suggested my immediate
death, but my soul was oppressed with terror, as though I had suddenly
seen a vast menacing glow of fire.

I rapidly struck a light, drank some water straight out of the decanter,
then hurried to the open window. The weather outside was magnificent.
There was a smell of hay and some other very sweet scent. I could see
the spikes of the fence, the gaunt, drowsy trees by the window, the
road, the dark streak of woodland, there was a serene, very bright
moon in the sky and not a single cloud, perfect stillness, not one leaf
stirring. I felt that everything was looking at me and waiting for me to
die....

It was uncanny. I closed the window and ran to my bed. I felt for my
pulse, and not finding it in my wrist, tried to find it in my temple,
then in my chin, and again in my wrist, and everything I touched was
cold and clammy with sweat. My breathing came more and more rapidly, my
body was shivering, all my inside was in commotion; I had a sensation
on my face and on my bald head as though they were covered with spiders'
webs.

What should I do? Call my family? No; it would be no use. I could not
imagine what my wife and Liza would do when they came in to me.

I hid my head under the pillow, closed my eyes, and waited and
waited.... My spine was cold; it seemed to be drawn inwards, an