range of her understanding. After a moment's thought I say:

"The cutting down of forests has been greatly detrimental to the
prosperity of Russia. . . ."

"Nicolas," sighs Nadenka, and her nose begins to turn red, "Nicolas,
I see you are trying to avoid being open with me. . . . You seem
to wish to punish me by your silence. Your feeling is not returned,
and you wish to suffer in silence, in solitude . . . it is too
awful, Nicolas!" she cries impulsively seizing my hand, and I see
her nose beginning to swell. "What would you say if the girl you
love were to offer you her eternal friendship?"

I mutter something incoherent, for I really can't think what to say
to her.

In the first place, I'm not in love with any girl at all; in the
second, what could I possibly want her eternal friendship for? and,
thirdly, I have a violent temper.

Mashenka (or Varenka) hides her face in her hands and murmurs, as
though to herself:

"He will not speak; . . . it is clear that he will have me make the
sacrifice! I cannot love him, if my heart is still another's . . .
but . . . I will think of it. . . . Very good, I will think of it
. . . I will prove the strength of my soul, and perhaps, at the
cost of my own happiness, I will save this man from suffering!" . . .

I can make nothing out of all this. It seems some special sort of