It's all right for you, but for me--wo-o-o-o! . . . I can't stir
a step out of this cellar. I'd go off to one of our estates, but
in every one of them there are some of my wife's rascals. . .
stewards, experts, damn them all! They mortgage and remortgage. . . .
You mustn't catch fish, must keep off the grass, mustn't break
the trees."

"Nikolay Sergeitch!" his wife's voice called from the drawing-room.
"Agnia, call your master!"

"Then you won't stay?" asked Nikolay Sergeitch, getting up quickly
and going towards the door. "You might as well stay, really. In the
evenings I could come and have a talk with you. Eh? Stay! If you
go, there won't be a human face left in the house. It's awful!"

Nikolay Sergeitch's pale, exhausted face besought her, but Mashenka
shook her head, and with a wave of his hand he went out.

Half an hour later she was on her way.


IONITCH

I

WHEN visitors to the provincial town S---- complained of the
dreariness and monotony of life, the inhabitants of the town, as
though defending themselves, declared that it was very nice in
S----, that there was a library, a theatre, a club; that they had
balls; and, finally, that there were clever, agreeable, and interesting