“This is terrible! How can I explain to her that I am alive?” he thought with horror. “O Lord! I am alive, do understand me!” he whispered.
“He is the best and happiest!” a voice was saying.
But something was pressing more and more heavily on Albert. Whether it was the moon and the water, her embraces, or his tears, he did not know, but he felt he would not be able to say all that was necessary, and that soon all would be over.

Two visitors, leaving Anna Ivanovna’s house, stumbled over Albert, who lay stretched out on the threshold. One of them went back and called the hostess.
“Why, this is inhuman!” he said. “You might let a man freeze like that!”
“Ah, that is Albert! I’m sick to death of him!” replied the hostess.
“Annushka, lay him down somewhere in a room,” she said to the maid.
“But I am alive-why bury me?” muttered Albert, as they carried him insensible into the room.

The End