“You’re such a hard worker, you poor boy! And how about Smith?” “But Smith’s dead.”
“And he hasn’t haunted you? I tell you seriously, Vanya, you’re ill and your nerves are out of order; you’re always lost in such dreams. When you told me about taking that room I noticed it in you. So the room’s damp, not nice?”
“Yes, I had an adventure there this evening. . . . But I’ll tell you about it afterwards.” She had left off listening and was sitting plunged in deep thought.
“I don’t know how I could have left them then. I was in a fever,” she added at last, looking at me with an expression that did not seem to expect an answer.
If I had spoken to her at that moment she would not have heard me.
“Vanya,” she said in a voice hardly audible, “I asked you to come for a reason.” “What is it?”
“I am parting from him.”
“You have parted, or you’re going to part?”
“I must put an end to this life. I asked you to come that I might tell you everything, all, all that has been accumulating, and that I’ve hidden from you till now.”
This was always how she began, confiding to me her secret intentions, and it almost always turned out that I had learnt the whole secret from her long before.
“Ach, Natasha, I’ve heard that from you a thousand times, Of course it’s impossible for you to go on living together. Your relation is such a strange one. You have nothing in
common. But will you have the strength? ”
“It’s only been an idea before, Vanya, but now I have quite made up my mind. I love him beyond everything, and yet it seems I am his worst enemy. I shall ruin his future. I must set him free. He can’t marry me; he hasn’t the strength to go against his father. I don’t want to bind him either. And so I’m really glad he has fallen in love with the girl they are betrothing him to. It will make the parting easier for him. I ought to do it! It’s my duty . . . If I love him I ought to sacrifice everything for him. I ought to prove my love for him; it’s my duty! Isn’t it?”
“But you won’t persuade him, you know”
“I’m not going to persuade him. I shall be just the same with him if he comes in this minute. But I must find some means to make it easier for him to leave me without a conscience-prick. That’s what worries me, Vanya. Help me. Can’t you advise something?”
“There is only one way,” I said: “to leave off loving him altogether and fall in love with someone else. But I doubt whether even that will do it; surely you know his character. Here he’s not been to see you for five days. Suppose he had left you altogether. You’ve only to write that you are leaving him, and he’d run to you at once.”
“Why do you dislike him, Vanya?” “I?”
“Yes, you, you! You’re his enemy, secret and open. You can’t speak of him without vindictiveness. I’ve noticed a thousand times that it’s your greatest pleasure to humiliate him and blacken him! Yes, blacken him, it’s the truth!”
“And you’ve told me so a thousand times already. Enough, Natasha, let’s drop this conversation.”
“I’ve been wanting to move into another lodging,” she began again after a silence. “Don’t be angry, Vanya.”
“Why, he’d come to another lodging, and I assure you I’m not angry.”
“Love, a new strong love, might hold him back. If he came back to me it would only be for a moment, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Natasha. Everything with him is so inconsistent. He wants to marry that girl, and to love you, too. He’s somehow able to do all that at once.”
“If I knew for certain that he loved her I would make up my mind . . . Vanya! Don’t hide anything from me! Do you know something you don’t want to tell me?”
She looked at me with an uneasy, searching gaze.
“I know nothing, my dear. I give you my word of honour; I’ve always been open with you. But I’ll tell you what I do think: very likely he’s not nearly so much in love with the countess’s stepdaughter as we suppose. It’s nothing but attraction . . . . ”
“You think so, Vanya? My God, if I were sure of that! Oh, how I should like to see him at this moment, simply to look at him! I should find out everything from his face! But he doesn’t come! He doesn’t come!”
“Surely you don’t expect him, Natasha?”
“No, he’s with her; I know. I sent to find out. How I should like to have a look at her, too. . . . Listen, Vanya, I’m talking nonsense, but is it really impossible for me to see her, is it impossible to meet her anywhere? What do you think?”
She waited anxiously to hear what I should say.
“You might see her. But simply to see her wouldn’t amount to much.”
“It would be enough for me only to see her; I should be able to tell then, for myself. Listen, I have become so stupid, you know. I walk up and down, up and down, here, always alone, always alone, always thinking; thoughts come rushing like a whirlwind! It’s so horrible! One thing I’ve thought of, Vanya; couldn’t you get to know her? You know the countess admired your novel (you said so yourself at the time). You sometimes go to Prince R—‘s evenings; she’s sometimes there. Manage to be presented to her. Or perhaps Alyosha could introduce you. Then you could tell me all about her.”
“Natasha, dear, we’ll talk of that later. Tell me, do you seriously think you have the strength to face a separation? Look at yourself now; you’re not calm.”
“I . . . shall . . . have!” she answered, hardly audibly. “Anything for him. My whole life for his sake. But you know, Vanya, I can’t bear his being with her now, and having forgotten me; he is sitting by her, talking, laughing, as he used to sit here, do you remember? He’s looking into her eyes; he always does look at people like that — and it never occurs to him that I am here . . . with you.”
She broke off without finishing and looked at me in despair. “Why, Natasha, only just now you were saying . . .”
“Let’s separate both at once, of our own accord,” she interrupted with flashing eyes. “I will give him my blessing for that . . . but it’s hard, Vanya, that he should forget me first! Ah, Vanya, what agony it is! I don’t understand myself. One thinks one thing, but it’s different when it comes to doing it. What will become of me!”
“Hush, hush, Natasha, calm yourself.”
“And now it’s five days. Every hour, every minute. . . . If I sleep I dream of nothing but him, nothing but him! I tell you what, Vanya, let’s go there. You take me!”
“Hush, Natasha!
“Yes, we will go! I’ve only been waiting for you! I’ve been thinking about it for the last three days. That was what I meant in my letter to you. . . . You must take me, you mustn’t refuse me this . . . I’ve been expecting you . . . for three days. . . . There’s a party there this evening. . . . He’s there . . . let us go!”
She seemed almost delirious. There was a noise in the passage Mavra seemed to be wrangling with some one.
“Stay, Natasha, who’s that?” I asked. “Listen.”
She listened with an incredulous smile, and suddenly turned fearfully white. “My God! Who’s there?” she said, almost inaudibly.
She tried to detain me, but I went into the passage to Mavra. Yes! It actually was Alyosha. He was questioning Mavra about something. She refused at first to admit him.
“Where have you turned up from?” she asked, with an air of authority. “Well, what have you been up to? All right, then, go in, go in! You won’t come it over me with your butter! Go in! I wonder what you’ve to say for yourself!”
“I’m not afraid of anyone! I’m going in!” said Alyosha, somewhat disconcerted, however.
“Well, go in then! You’re a sauce-box!”
“Well, I’m going in! Ah! you’re here, too!” he said, catching sight of me. “How nice it is that you’re here Well, here I am, you see. . . . What had I better do?”
“Simply go in,” I answered. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything, I assure you, for upon my word I’m not to blame. You think I’m to blame? You’ll see; I’ll explain it directly. Natasha, can I come in?” he cried with a sort of assumed boldness, standing before the closed door. No one answered.
“What’s the matter?” he asked uneasily.
“Nothing; she was in there just now,” I answered. “Can anything . . . ”
Alyosha opened the door cautiously and looked timidly about the room. There was no one to be seen.
Suddenly he caught sight of her in the corner, between the cupboard and the window.
She stood as though in hiding, more dead than alive. As I recall it now I can’t help smiling. Alyosha went up to her slowly and warily.
“Natasha, what is it? How are you, Natasha?” he brought out timidly, looking at her with a sort of dismay.
“Oh, it’s all right!”
