ery now
and again running into sudden little wildnesses and extravagances. I
cannot remember nearly all that he said. He came suddenly, as I expected
him to do, to the subject of Semyonov.

"You know of course that Alexei Petrovitch is living with us now?"

"Yes. I know that."

"You can understand, Ivan Andreievitch, that when he came first and
proposed it to me I was startled. I had other things--very serious
things to think of just then. We weren't--we aren't--very happy at home
just now... you know that... I didn't think he'd be very gay with us.
I told him that. He said he didn't expect to be gay anywhere at this
time, but that he was lonely in his flat all by himself, and he thought
for a week or two he'd like company. He didn't expect it would be for
very long. No.... He said he was expecting 'something to happen.'
Something to himself, he said, that would alter his affairs. So, as it
was only for a little time, well, it didn't seem to matter. Besides,
he's a powerful man. He's difficult to resist--very difficult to
resist...."

"Why have you given up your inventions, Nicolai Leontievitch?" I said to
him, suddenly turning round upon him.

"My inventions?" he repeated, seeming very startled at that.

"Yes, your inventions."

"No, no.... Understand, I have no more use for them. There are other
things now to think about--more important things."

"But you were getting on with them so well?"

"No--not really. I was deceiving myself as I have often deceived myself
before. Alexei showed me that. He told me that they were no good--"

"But I thought that he encouraged you?"

"Yes--at first--only at first. Afterwards he saw into them more
clearly; he changed his mind. I think he was only intending to be kind.
A strange man... a strange man...."

"A very strange man. Don't you let him influence you, Nicholas
Markovitch."

"Influence me? Do you think he does that?" He suddenly came close to me,
catching my arm.

"I don't know. I haven't seen you often together."

"Perhaps he does... _Mojet bweet_... You may be right. I don't know--I
don't know what I feel about him at all. Sometimes he seems to me very
kind; sometimes I'm frightened of him, sometimes"--here he dropped his
voice--"he makes me very angry, so angry that I lose control of
myself--a despicable thing... a despicable thing... just as I used to
feel about the old man to whom I was secretary. I nearly murdered him
once. In the middle of the night I