"

"Someone else's. Someone else's."

She felt like saying something harsh; but broke down and became silent.
Foma looked at her and, setting Medinskaya by her side, thought sadly:

"How different everything is--both men and women--and you never feel
alike."

They sat opposite each other; both were lost in thought, and neither one
looked at the other. It was getting dark outside, and in the room it
was quite dark already. The wind was shaking the linden-trees, and their
branches seemed to clutch at the walls of the house, as though they felt
cold and implored for shelter in the rooms.

"Luba!" said Foma, softly.

She raised her head and looked at him.

"Do you know, I have quarrelled with Medinskaya."

"Why?" asked Luba, brightening up.

"So. It came about that she offended me. Yes, she offended me."

"Well, it's good that you've quarrelled with her," said the girl,
approvingly, "for she would have turned your head. She is a vile
creature; she is a coquette, even worse than that. Oh, what things I
know about her!"

"She's not at all a vile creature," said Foma, morosely. "And you don't
know anything about her. You are all lying!"

"Oh, I beg your pardon!"

"No. See here, Luba," said Foma, softly, in a beseeching tone, "don't
speak ill of her in my presence. It isn't necessary. I know everything.
By God! She told me everything herself."

"Herself!" exclaimed Luba, in astonishment. "What a strange woman she
is! What did she tell you?"

"That she is guilty," Foma ejaculated with difficulty, with a wry smile.

"Is that all?" There was a ring of disappointment in the girl's
question; Foma heard it and asked hopefully:

"Isn't that enough?"

"What will you do now?"

"That's just what I am thinking about."

"Do you love her very much?"

Foma was silent. He looked into the window and answered confusedly:

"I don't know. But it seems to me that now I love her more than before."

"Than before the quarrel?"

"Yes."

"I wonder how one can love such a woman!" said the girl, shrugging her
shoulders.

"Love such a woman? Of course! Why not?" exclaimed Foma.

"I can't understand it. I think, you have become attached to her just
because you have not met a better woman."

"No, I have not met a better one!" Foma assented, and after a moment's
silence said shyly, "Perhaps there is none better."

"Among our people," Lubov interposed.

"I need her very badly! Because, you see, I feel ashamed before her