signed it with my name and rank, and went
into the study. It was dark. I felt for the table and put the letter
on it. I must have stumbled against the furniture in the dark and
made a noise.

"Who is there?" I heard an alarmed voice in the drawing-room.

And the clock on the table softly struck one at the moment.

XIII

For at least half a minute I fumbled at the door in the dark, feeling
for the handle; then I slowly opened it and walked into the
drawing-room. Zinaida Fyodorovna was lying on the couch, and raising
herself on her elbow, she looked towards me. Unable to bring myself
to speak, I walked slowly by, and she followed me with her eyes. I
stood for a little time in the dining-room and then walked by her
again, and she looked at me intently and with perplexity, even with
alarm. At last I stood still and said with an effort:

"He is not coming back."

She quickly got on to her feet, and looked at me without understanding.

"He is not coming back," I repeated, and my heart beat violently.
"He will not come back, for he has not left Petersburg. He is staying
at Pekarsky's."

She understood and believed me--I saw that from her sudden pallor,
and from the way she laid her arms upon her bosom in terror and
entreaty. In one instant all that had happened of late flashed
through her mind; she reflected, and with pitiless clarity she saw
the whole truth. But at the same time she remembered that I was a
flunkey, a being of a lower order. . . . A casual stranger, with
hair ruffled, with face flushed with fever, perhaps drunk, in a
common overcoat, was coarsely intruding into her intimate life, and
that offended her. She said to me sternly:

"It's not your business: go away."

"Oh, believe me!" I cried impetuously, holding out my hands to her.
"I am not a footman; I am as free as you."

I mentioned my name, and, speaking very rapidly that she might not
interrupt me or go away, explained to her who I was and why I was
living there. This new discovery struck her more than the first.
Till then she had hoped that her footman had lied or made a mistake
or been silly, but now after my confession she had no doubts left.
From the expression of her unhappy eyes and face, which suddenly
lost its softness and beauty and looked old, I saw that she was
insufferably miserable, and that the conversation would lead to no
good; but I went on impetuously:

"The senator and the tour of inspection were invented to deceive
you.