uivered with emotion; that quiver and his tone were
far more persuasive than his words. Abogin was sincere, but it was
remarkable that whatever he said his words sounded stilted, soulless,
and inappropriately flowery, and even seemed an outrage on the
atmosphere of the doctor's home and on the woman who was somewhere
dying. He felt this himself, and so, afraid of not being understood,
did his utmost to put softness and tenderness into his voice so
that the sincerity of his tone might prevail if his words did not.
As a rule, however fine and deep a phrase may be, it only affects
the indifferent, and cannot fully satisfy those who are happy or
unhappy; that is why dumbness is most often the highest expression
of happiness or unhappiness; lovers understand each other better
when they are silent, and a fervent, passionate speech delivered
by the grave only touches outsiders, while to the widow and children
of the dead man it seems cold and trivial.

Kirilov stood in silence. When Abogin uttered a few more phrases
concerning the noble calling of a doctor, self-sacrifice, and so
on, the doctor asked sullenly: "Is it far?"

"Something like eight or nine miles. I have capital horses, doctor!
I give you my word of honour that I will get you there and back in
an hour. Only one hour."

These words had more effect on Kirilov than the appeals to humanity
or the noble calling of the doctor. He thought a moment and said
with a sigh: "Very well, let us go!"

He went rapidly with a more certain step to his study, and afterwards
came back in a long frock-coat. Abogin, greatly relieved, fidgeted
round him and scraped with his feet as he helped him on with his
overcoat, and went out of the house with him.

It was dark out of doors, though lighter than in the entry. The
tall, stooping figure of the doctor, with his long, narrow beard
and aquiline nose, stood out distinctly in the darkness. Abogin's
big head and the little student's cap that barely covered it could
be seen now as well as his pale face. The scarf showed white only
in front, behind it was hidden by his long hair.

"Believe me, I know how to appreciate your generosity," Abogin
muttered as he helped the doctor into the carriage. "We shall get
there quickly. Drive as fast as you can, Luka, there's a good fellow!
Please!"

The coachman drove rapidly. At first there was a row of indistinct
buildings that stretched alongside the hospital yard; it was dark
everywhere except