rom oneself that
life is coarse, cruel, and merciless in its conservatism, and one
must retaliate with what it deserves--that is, be as coarse and
as merciless in one's striving for freedom. That's what I think."

"That's beyond me," said Zinaida Fyodorovna, with a mournful smile.
"I am exhausted already. I am so exhausted that I wouldn't stir a
finger for my own salvation."

"Go into a nunnery."

He said this in jest, but after he had said it, tears glistened in
Zinaida Fyodorovna's eyes and then in his.

"Well," he said, "we've been sitting and sitting, and now we must
go. Good-bye, dear Godmother. God give you health."

He kissed both her hands, and stroking them tenderly, said that he
should certainly come to see her again in a day or two. In the hall,
as he was putting on his overcoat, that was so like a child's
pelisse, he fumbled long in his pockets to find a tip for me, but
found nothing there.

"Good-bye, my dear fellow," he said sadly, and went away.

I shall never forget the feeling that this man left behind him.

Zinaida Fyodorovna still walked about the room in her excitement.
That she was walking about and not still lying down was so much to
the good. I wanted to take advantage of this mood to speak to her
openly and then to go away, but I had hardly seen Gruzin out when
I heard a ring. It was Kukushkin.

"Is Georgy Ivanitch at home?" he said. "Has he come back? You say
no? What a pity! In that case, I'll go in and kiss your mistress's
hand, and so away. Zinaida Fyodorovna, may I come in?" he cried.
"I want to kiss your hand. Excuse my being so late."

He was not long in the drawing-room, not more than ten minutes, but
I felt as though he were staying a long while and would never go
away. I bit my lips from indignation and annoyance, and already
hated Zinaida Fyodorovna. "Why does she not turn him out?" I thought
indignantly, though it was evident that she was bored by his company.

When I held his fur coat for him he asked me, as a mark of special
good-will, how I managed to get on without a wife.

"But I don't suppose you waste your time," he said, laughingly.
"I've no doubt Polya and you are as thick as thieves. . . . You
rascal!"

In spite of my experience of life, I knew very little of mankind
at that time, and it is very likely that I often exaggerated what
was of little consequence and failed to observe what was important.
It seemed to me it was not without motive that Kukushkin tit