For a long time Hermann could not recover himself. He then rose up and
entered the next room. His orderly was lying asleep upon the floor,
and he had much difficulty in waking him. The orderly was drunk as
usual, and no information could be obtained from him. The street door
was locked. Hermann returned to his room, lit his candle, and wrote
down all the details of his vision.


VI

Two fixed ideas can no more exist together in the moral world than two
bodies can occupy one and the same physical world. "Three, seven, ace"
soon drove out of Hermann's mind the thought of the dead Countess.
"Three, seven, ace" were perpetually running through his head, and
continually being repeated by his lips. If he saw a young girl, he
would say: "How slender she is; quite like the three of hearts." If
anybody asked "What is the time?" he would reply: "Five minutes to
seven." Every stout man that he saw reminded him of the ace. "Three,
seven, ace" haunted him in his sleep, and assumed all possible shapes.
The threes bloomed before him in the forms of magnificent flowers, the
sevens were represented by Gothic portals, and the aces became
transformed into gigantic spiders. One thought alone occupied his
whole mind--to make a profitable use of the secret which he had
purchased so dearly. He thought of applying for a furlough so as to
travel abroad. He wanted to go to Paris and tempt fortune in some
gambling houses that abounded there. Chance spared him all this
trouble.

There was in Moscow a society of rich gamesters, presided over by the