e kind deed, to help a fellow
creature... Once, after a secretary of legation, who was madly in
love with her, had attempted to cut his throat, she founded a small
alms-house! She had prayed for him fervently, although her religious
feelings from earliest childhood had not been strongly developed.

And so she talked to Nejdanov, doing everything she could to bring him
to her feet. She allowed him to come near her, she revealed herself
to him, as it were, and with a sweet curiosity, with a half-maternal
tenderness, she watched this handsome, interesting, stern radical
softening towards her quietly and awkwardly. A day, an hour, a minute
later and all this would have vanished without leaving a trace, but for
the time being it was pleasant, amusing, rather pathetic, and even a
little sad. Forgetting his origin, and knowing that such interest is
always appreciated by lonely people happening to fall among strangers,
she began questioning him about his youth, about his family... But
guessing from his curt replies that she had made a mistake, Valentina
Mihailovna tried to smooth things over and began to unfold herself still
more before him, as a rose unfolds its fragrant petals on a hot summer's
noon, closing them again tightly at the first approach of the evening
coolness.

She could not fully smooth over her blunder, however. Having been
touched on a sensitive spot, Nejdanov could not regain his former
confidence. That bitterness which he always carried, always felt at
the bottom of his heart, stirred again, awakening all his democratic
suspicions and reproaches. "That is not what I've come here for," he
thought, recalling Paklin's admonition. He took advantage of a pause in
the conversation, got up, bowed slightly, and went out "very foolishly"
as he could not help saying to himself afterwards.

His confusion did not escape Valentina Mihailovna's notice, and judging
by the smile with which she accompanied him, she had put it down to her
own advantage.

In the billiard room Nejdanov came across Mariana. She was standing
with her back to the window, not far from the door of Madame Sipiagina's
boudoir, with her arms tightly folded. Her face was almost in complete
shadow, but she fixed her fearless eyes on Nejdanov so penetratingly,
and her tightly closed lips expressed so much contempt and insulting
pity, that he stood still in amazement.

"Have you anything to say to me?" he asked involuntarily.

Mariana did not reply