anywhere or to talk of anything.

In the holidays in December he prepared for a journey, and told his
wife he was going to Petersburg to do something in the interests
of a young friend--and he set off for S----. What for? He did not
very well know himself. He wanted to see Anna Sergeyevna and to
talk with her--to arrange a meeting, if possible.

He reached S---- in the morning, and took the best room at the
hotel, in which the floor was covered with grey army cloth, and on
the table was an inkstand, grey with dust and adorned with a figure
on horseback, with its hat in its hand and its head broken off. The
hotel porter gave him the necessary information; Von Diderits lived
in a house of his own in Old Gontcharny Street--it was not far
from the hotel: he was rich and lived in good style, and had his
own horses; every one in the town knew him. The porter pronounced
the name "Dridirits."

Gurov went without haste to Old Gontcharny Street and found the
house. Just opposite the house stretched a long grey fence adorned
with nails.

"One would run away from a fence like that," thought Gurov, looking
from the fence to the windows of the house and back again.

He considered: to-day was a holiday, and the husband would probably
be at home. And in any case it would be tactless to go into the
house and upset her. If he were to send her a note it might fall
into her husband's hands, and then it might ruin everything. The
best thing was to trust to chance. And he kept walking up and down