sick,"
said Frolov. "Come, parasite, sit down and sing."

The old man sat down, touched the strings with his fat fingers, and
began singing:

"Neetka, neetka, Margareetka. . . ."

After drinking champagne Frolov was drunk. He thumped with his fist
on the table and said:

"Yes, there's something that sticks in my head! It won't give me a
minute's peace!"

"Why, what is it?"

"I can't tell you. It's a secret. It's something so private that I
could only speak of it in my prayers. But if you like . . . as a
sign of friendship, between ourselves . . . only mind, to no one,
no, no, no, . . . I'll tell you, it will ease my heart, but for
God's sake . . . listen and forget it. . . ."

Frolov bent down to Almer and for a minute breathed in his ear.

"I hate my wife!" he brought out.

The lawyer looked at him with surprise.

"Yes, yes, my wife, Marya Mihalovna," Frolov muttered, flushing
red. "I hate her and that's all about it."

"What for?"

"I don't know myself! I've only been married two years. I married
as you know for love, and now I hate her like a mortal enemy, like
this parasite here, saving your presence. And there is no cause,
no sort of cause! When she sits by me, eats, or says anything, my
whole soul boils, I can scarcely restrain myself from being rude
to her. It's something one can't describe. To leave her or tell her
the truth is utterly impossible because it would be a scandal, and
living with her is worse than hell for me. I can't stay at home! I
spend my days at business and in the restaurants and spend my nights
in dissipation. Come, how is one to explain this hatred? She is not
an ordinary woman, but handsome, clever, quiet."

The old man stamped his foot and began singing:

"I went a walk with a captain bold, And in his ear my secrets told."

"I must own I always thought that Marya Mihalovna was not at all
the right person for you," said Almer after a brief silence, and
he heaved a sigh.

"Do you mean she is too well educated? . . . I took the gold medal
at the commercial school myself, I have been to Paris three times.
I am not cleverer than you, of course, but I am no more foolish
than my wife. No, brother, education is not the sore point. Let me
tell you how all the trouble began. It began with my suddenly
fancying that she had married me not from love, but for the sake
of my money. This idea took possession of my brain. I have done all
I could think of, but the curse