mpness and mildew reached him. . . .

"I believe there's nobody . . ." he thought, going into the arbour,
and at once saw a human silhouette in the corner.

The silhouette was that of a man. . . . Looking more closely, Pavel
Ivanitch recognised his wife's brother, Mitya, a student, who was
staying with them at the villa.

"Oh, it's you . . ." he growled discontentedly, as he took off his
hat and sat down.

"Yes, it's I" . . . answered Mitya.

Two minutes passed in silence.

"Excuse me, Pavel Ivanitch," began Mitya: "but might I ask you to
leave me alone?? . . . I am thinking over the dissertation for my
degree and . . . and the presence of anybody else prevents my
thinking."

"You had better go somewhere in a dark avenue. . ." Pavel Ivanitch
observed mildly. "It's easier to think in the open air, and, besides,
. . . er . . . I should like to have a little sleep here on this
seat. . . It's not so hot here. . . ."

"You want to sleep, but it's a question of my dissertation . . ."
Mitya grumbled. "The dissertation is more important."

Again there was a silence. Pavel Ivanitch, who had given the rein
to his imagination and was continually hearing footsteps, suddenly
leaped up and said in a plaintive voice:

"Come, I beg you, Mitya! You are younger and ought to consider me
. . . . I am unwell and . . . I need sleep. . . . Go away!"

"That's egoism. . . . Why must you be here and not I? I won't go
as a matter of principle."

"Come, I ask you to! Suppose I am an egoist, a despot and a fool
. . . but I ask you to go! For once in my life I ask you a favour!
Show some consideration!"

Mitya shook his head.

"What a beast! . . ." thought Pavel Ivanitch. "That can't be a
rendezvous with him here! It's impossible with him here!"

"I say, Mitya," he said, "I ask you for the last time. . . . Show
that you are a sensible, humane, and cultivated man!"

"I don't know why you keep on so!" . . . said Mitya, shrugging his
shoulders. "I've said I won't go, and I won't. I shall stay here
as a matter of principle. . . ."

At that moment a woman's face with a turn-up nose peeped into the
arbour. . . .

Seeing Mitya and Pavel Ivanitch, it frowned and vanished.

"She is gone!" thought Pavel Ivanitch, looking angrily at Mitya.
"She saw that blackguard and fled! It's all spoilt!"

After waiting a little longer, he got up, put on his hat and said:

"You're a beast, a low brute and a blackguard! Yes! A beast! It's
mean .