othing whisper:

"Never mind, don't be bashful, my young, handsome darling. How I pity
you!"

And he felt like crying because of her whisper, his heart was melting
in sweet fatigue; pressing his head close to her breast, he clasped
her with his hands, mumbling to her some inarticulate words, which were
unknown to himself.

"Be gone!" said Foma in a heavy voice, staring at the wall with his eyes
wide open.

Having kissed him on the cheek she walked out of the cabin, saying to
him:

"Well, good-bye."

Foma felt intolerably ashamed in her presence; but no sooner did she
disappear behind the door than he jumped up and seated himself on the
lounge. Then he arose, staggering, and at once he was seized with the
feeling of having lost something very valuable, something whose presence
he did not seem to have noticed in himself until the moment it was lost.
But immediately a new, manly feeling of self-pride took possession of
him. It drowned his shame, and, instead of the shame, pity for the woman
sprang up within him--for the half-clad woman, who went out alone into
the dark of the chilly May night. He hastily came out on the deck--it
was a starlit, but moonless night; the coolness and the darkness
embraced him. On the shore the golden-red pile of coals was still
glimmering. Foma listened--an oppressive stillness filled the air, only
the water was murmuring, breaking against the anchor chains. There was
not a sound of footsteps to be heard. Foma now longed to call the woman,
but he did not know her name. Eagerly inhaling the fresh air into his
broad chest, he stood on deck for a few minutes. Suddenly, from beyond
the roundhouse--from the prow--a moan reached his ears--a deep, loud
moan, resembling a wail. He shuddered and went thither carefully,
understanding that she was there.

She sat on the deck close to the side of the steamer, and, leaning her
head against a heap of ropes, she wept. Foma saw that her bare white
shoulders were trembling, he heard her pitiful moans, and began to feel
depressed. Bending over her, he asked her timidly:

"What is it?"

She nodded her head and said nothing in reply.

"Have I offended you?"

"Go away," she said.

"But, how?" said Foma, alarmed and confused, touching her head with his
hand. "Don't be angry. You came of your own free will."

"I am not angry!" she replied in a loud whisper. "Why should I be angry
at you? You are not a seducer. You are a pure soul! Eh, my darling! B