His face expressed neither hatred nor repulsion: so he knew nothing;
Nadyezhda Fyodorovna was somewhat reassured, and she went into the
drawing-room.

"Don't agitate yourself, my dear!" said Marya Konstantinovna, sitting
down beside her and taking her hand. "It will pass. Men are just
as weak as we poor sinners. You are both going through a crisis. . . .
One can so well understand it! Well, my dear, I am waiting for
an answer. Let us have a little talk."

"No, we are not going to talk," said Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, listening
to Laevsky's sobs. "I feel depressed. . . . You must allow me to
go home."

"What do you mean, what do you mean, my dear?" cried Marya
Konstantinovna in alarm. "Do you think I could let you go without
supper? We will have something to eat, and then you may go with my
blessing."

"I feel miserable . . ." whispered Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, and she
caught at the arm of the chair with both hands to avoid falling.

"He's got a touch of hysterics," said Von Koren gaily, coming into
the drawing-room, but seeing Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, he was taken
aback and retreated.

When the attack was over, Laevsky sat on the strange bed and thought.

"Disgraceful! I've been howling like some wretched girl! I must
have been absurd and disgusting. I will go away by the back stairs