or sully
her angelic purity.

Kasatsky belonged to those men of the eighteen-forties (they are now no
longer to be found) who while deliberately and without any conscientious
scruples condoning impurity in themselves, required ideal and angelic
purity in their women, regarded all unmarried women of their circle as
possessed of such purity, and treated them accordingly. There was much
that was false and harmful in this outlook, as concerning the laxity the
men permitted themselves, but in regard to the women that old-fashioned
view (sharply differing from that held by young people to-day who see in
every girl merely a female seeking a mate) was, I think, of value. The
girls, perceiving such adoration, endeavoured with more or less success
to be goddesses.

Such was the view Kasatsky held of women, and that was how he regarded
his fiancee. He was particularly in love that day, but did not
experience any sensual desire for her. On the contrary he regarded her
with tender adoration as something unattainable.

He rose to his full height, standing before her with both hands on his
sabre.

'I have only now realized what happiness a man can experience! And it is
you, my darling, who have given me this happiness,' he said with a timid
smile.

Endearments had not yet become usual between them, and feeling himself
morally inferior he felt terrified at this stage to use them to such an
angel.

'It is thanks to you that I have come to know myself. I have learnt that
I am better than I thought.'

'I have known that for a long time. That was why I began to love you.'

Nightingales trilled near by and the fresh leafage rustled, moved by a
passing breeze.

He took her hand and kissed it, and tears came into his eyes.

She understood that he was thanking her for having said she loved him.
He silently took a few steps up and down, and then approached her again
and sat down.

'You know... I have to tell you... I was not disinterested when I
began to make love to you. I wanted to get into society; but later...
how unimportant that became in comparison with you--when I got to know
you. You are not angry with me for that?'

She did not reply but merely touched his hand. He understood that this
meant: 'No, I am not angry.'

'You said...' He hesitated. It seemed too bold to say. 'You said that
you began to love me. I believe it--but there is something that troubles
you and checks your feeling. What is it?'

'Yes--now or neve