I added that I had done nothing, and that I would not
take the first step. If she wants a divorce, so much the better! My
sister-in-law would not listen to this idea, and went away without
having gained anything. I was obstinate, and I said boldly and
determinedly, in talking to her, that I would not take the first
step. Immediately she had gone I went into the other room, and saw the
children in a frightened and pitiful state, and there I found myself
already inclined to take this first step. But I was bound by my word.
Again I walked up and down, always smoking. At breakfast I drank brandy
and wine, and I reached the point which I unconsciously desired, the
point where I no longer saw the stupidity and baseness of my situation.

"Toward three o'clock she came. I thought that she was appeased, or
admitted her defeat. I began to tell her that I was provoked by her
reproaches. She answered me, with the same severe and terribly downcast
face, that she had not come for explanations, but to take the children,
that we could not live together. I answered that it was not my fault,
that she had put me beside myself. She looked at me with a severe and
solemn air, and said: 'Say no more. You will repent it.' I said that I
could not tolerate comedies. Then she cried out something that I did not
understand, and rushed toward her room. The key turned in the lock,
and she shut herself up. I pushed at the door. There was no response.
Furious, I went away.

"A half hour later Lise came running all in tears. 'What! Has anything
happened? We cannot hear Mamma!' We went toward my wife's room. I pushed
the door with all my might. The bolt was scarcely drawn, and the door
opened. In a skirt, with high boots, my wife lay awkwardly on the bed.
On the table an empty opium phial. We restored her to life. Tears and
then reconciliation! Not reconciliation; internally each kept the hatred
for the other, but it was absolutely necessary for the moment to end
the scene in some way, and life began again as before. These scenes, and
even worse, came now once a week, now every month, now every day. And
invariably the same incidents. Once I was absolutely resolved to fly,
but through some inconceivable weakness I remained.

"Such were the circumstances in which we were living when the MAN came.
The man was bad, it is true. But what! No worse than we were."

CHAPTER XXI.

"When we moved to Moscow, this gentleman--his name was
Troukhatchevsky--cam