aunts for Nekhludoff, and completely charmed them with his elegance,
amiability, cheerfulness, liberality, and his love for Dmitri. Though
his liberality pleased the aunts, they were somewhat perplexed by the
excess to which he carried it. He gave a ruble to a blind beggar; the
servants received as tips fifteen rubles, and when Sophia Ivanovna's
lap-dog, Suzette, hurt her leg so that it bled, he volunteered to
bandage it, and without a moment's consideration tore his fine linen
handkerchief (Sophia Ivanovna knew that those handkerchiefs were worth
fifteen rubles a dozen) and made bandages of it for the dog. The aunts
had never seen such men, nor did they know that his debts ran up to
two hundred thousand rubles, which--he knew--would never be paid, and
that therefore twenty-five rubles more or less made no appreciable
difference in his accounts.

Shenbok remained but one day, and the following evening departed with
Nekhludoff. They could remain no longer, for the time for joining
their regiment had arrived.

On this last day spent at the aunts, when the events of the preceding
evening were fresh in his memory, two antagonistic feelings struggled
in Nekhludoff's soul; one was the burning, sensual recollection of
love, although it failed to fulfill its promises, and some
satisfaction of having gained his ends; the other, a consciousness of
having committed a wrong, and that that wrong must be righted--not for
her sake, but for his own sake.

In that condition of insane egotism Nekhludoff thought only of
himself--whether he would be condemned, and how far, if his act should
be discovered, but never gave a thought to the question, "How does she
feel about it, and what will become of her?"