with whom she always for some reason felt guilty; and the clerks,
the doctors, and the ladies who were charitable at her expense, who
flattered her and secretly despised her for her humble origin--
how wearisome and alien it all was to her!

Here was the railway crossing and the city gate; then came houses
alternating with kitchen gardens; and at last the broad street where
stood the renowned Gushtchin's Buildings. The street, usually quiet,
was now on Christmas Eve full of life and movement. The eating-houses
and beer-shops were noisy. If some one who did not belong to that
quarter but lived in the centre of the town had driven through the
street now, he would have noticed nothing but dirty, drunken, and
abusive people; but Anna Akimovna, who had lived in those parts all
her life, was constantly recognizing in the crowd her own father
or mother or uncle. Her father was a soft fluid character, a little
fantastical, frivolous, and irresponsible. He did not care for
money, respectability, or power; he used to say that a working man
had no time to keep the holy-days and go to church; and if it had
not been for his wife, he would probably never have gone to confession,
taken the sacrament or kept the fasts. While her uncle, Ivan
Ivanovitch, on the contrary, was like flint; in everything relating
to religion, politics, and morality, he was harsh and relentless,
and kept a strict watch, not only over himself, but also over all
his servants and acquaintances. God forbid that one should go into
his room without crossing oneself before the ikon! The luxurious
mansion in which Anna Akimovna now lived he had always kept locked
up, and only opened it on great holidays for important visitors,
while he lived himself in the office, in a little room covered with
ikons. He had leanings towards the Old Believers, and was continually
entertaining priests and bishops of the old ritual, though he had