ion needed by me for the
accomplishment of my final resolve, came to hand not through any
sequence of causes, but thanks to a certain strange circumstance which
had perhaps no connection whatever with the matter at issue. Ten days
ago Rogojin called upon me about certain business of his own with which
I have nothing to do at present. I had never seen Rogojin before, but
had often heard about him.

"I gave him all the information he needed, and he very soon took his
departure; so that, since he only came for the purpose of gaining the
information, the matter might have been expected to end there.

"But he interested me too much, and all that day I was under the
influence of strange thoughts connected with him, and I determined to
return his visit the next day.

"Rogojin was evidently by no means pleased to see me, and hinted,
delicately, that he saw no reason why our acquaintance should continue.
For all that, however, I spent a very interesting hour, and so, I dare
say, did he. There was so great a contrast between us that I am sure we
must both have felt it; anyhow, I felt it acutely. Here was I, with my
days numbered, and he, a man in the full vigour of life, living in
the present, without the slightest thought for 'final convictions,' or
numbers, or days, or, in fact, for anything but that which-which--well,
which he was mad about, if he will excuse me the expression--as a feeble
author who cannot express his ideas properly.

"In spite of his lack of amiability, I could not help seeing, in Rogojin
a man of intellect and sense; and although, perhaps, there was little in
the outside world which was of interest to him, still he was clearly a
man with eyes to see.

"I hinted nothing to him about my 'final conviction,' but it appeared
to me that he had guessed it from my words. He remained silent--he is
a terribly silent man. I remarked to him, as I rose to depart, that,
in spite of the contrast and the wide differences between us two,
les extremites se touchent ('extremes meet,' as I explained to him in
Russian); so that maybe he was not so far from my final conviction as
appeared.

"His only reply to this was a sour grimace. He rose and looked for
my cap, and placed it in my hand, and led me out of the house--that
dreadful gloomy house of his--to all appearances, of course, as though I
were leaving of my own accord, and he were simply seeing me to the
door out of politeness. His house impressed me much; it is lik