Day succeeded day, and each day was like the last one. We lived a
life as quiet as though we had been in the country. Anna herself
grew quieter in proportion as she came to realise the extent of
her power over us. In nothing did we dare to thwart her. From her
portion of the house our apartment was divided by a corridor,
while next to us (as mentioned above) dwelt a certain Pokrovski,
who was engaged in teaching Sasha the French and German
languages, as well as history and geography--"all the sciences,"
as Anna used to say. In return for these services he received
free board and lodging. As for Sasha, she was a clever, but rude
and uncouth, girl of thirteen. On one occasion Anna remarked to
my mother that it might be as well if I also were to take some
lessons, seeing that my education had been neglected at school;
and, my mother joyfully assenting, I joined Sasha for a year in
studying under this Pokrovski.

The latter was a poor--a very poor--young man whose health would
not permit of his undertaking the regular university course.
Indeed, it was only for form's sake that we called him "The
Student." He lived in such a quiet, humble, retiring fashion that
never a sound reached us from his room. Also, his exterior was
peculiar--he moved and walked awkwardly, and uttered his words in
such a strange manner that at first I could never look at him
without laughing. Sasha was for ever playing tricks upon him--
more especially when he was giving us our lessons. But
unfortunately, he was of a temperament as excitable as herself.
Indeed, he was so irritable that the least trifle would send him
into a frenzy, and set him shouting at us, and complaining of our
conduct. Sometimes he would even rush away to his room before
school hours were over, and sit there for days over his books, of