probably just because he was tall and a fine figure. After two
meetings she was weary of him, had thrown him over, and did not
that, she thought now, give him the right to treat her as he chose?

"Here I'll say good-bye to you, darling," said Laevsky. "Ilya
Mihalitch will see you home."

He nodded to Kirilin, and, quickly crossing the boulevard, walked
along the street to Sheshkovsky's, where there were lights in the
windows, and then they heard the gate bang as he went in.

"Allow me to have an explanation with you," said Kirilin. "I'm not
a boy, not some Atchkasov or Latchkasov, Zatchkasov. . . . I demand
serious attention."

Nadyezhda Fyodorovna's heart began beating violently. She made no
reply.

"The abrupt change in your behaviour to me I put down at first to
coquetry," Kirilin went on; "now I see that you don't know how to
behave with gentlemanly people. You simply wanted to play with me,
as you are playing with that wretched Armenian boy; but I'm a
gentleman and I insist on being treated like a gentleman. And so I
am at your service. . . ."

"I'm miserable," said Nadyezhda Fyodorovna beginning to cry, and
to hide her tears she turned away.

"I'm miserable too," said Kirilin, "but what of that?"