and a neighbor were taking lunch standing. Everything was as usual,
but a storm raged in Nekhludoff's soul. He did not understand what was
said to him, his answers were inappropriate, and he was thinking only
of Katiousha, recalling the sensation of the last kiss he gave her
when he overtook her in the corridor. He could think of nothing else.
When she entered the room, without looking at her, he felt her
presence with all his being, and had to make an effort not to look at
her.

After lunch he went immediately to his room, and in great agitation
walked to and fro, listening to the sounds in the house and waiting to
hear her steps. The animal man that dwelled in him not only raised his
head, but crushed under foot the spiritual man that he was when he
first arrived at the manor, and was even this very morning in church,
and that terrible animal man now held sway in his soul. Although
Nekhludoff was watching an opportunity to meet Katiousha that day, he
did not succeed in seeing her face to face even once. She was probably
avoiding him. But in the evening it happened that she had to enter a
room adjoining his. The physician was to remain over night, and
Katiousha had to make the bed for him. Hearing her steps, Nekhludoff,
stepping on tip-toe and holding his breath, as though preparing to
commit a crime, followed her into the room.

Thrusting both her hands into a white pillow-case, and taking hold of
two corners of the pillow, she turned her head and looked at him
smiling, but it was not the old, cheerful, happy smile, but a
frightened, piteous smile. The smile seemed to tell him that what he
was doing was wrong. For a moment he stood still. There was still the
possibility of a struggle. Though weak, the voice of his true love to
her was still heard; it spoke of her, of her feelings, of her life.