be so bitter against women for nothing. Some woman or other must
have----'

'Done me an injury, you mean?' Pigasov interrupted.

Darya Mihailovna was rather embarrassed; she remembered Pigasov's
unlucky marriage, and only nodded.

'One woman certainly did me an injury,' said Pigasov, 'though she was
a good, very good one.'

'Who was that?'

'My mother,' said Pigasov, dropping his voice.

'Your mother? What injury could she have done you?'

'She brought me into the world.'

Darya Mihailovna frowned.

'Our conversation,' she said, 'seems to have taken a gloomy turn.
_Constantin_, play us Thalberg's new _etude_. I daresay the music will
soothe African Semenitch. Orpheus soothed savage beasts.'

Konstantin Diomiditch took his seat at the piano, and played the etude
very fairly well. Natalya Alexyevna at first listened attentively,
then she bent over her work again.

'_Merci, c'est charmant_,' observed Darya Mihailovna, 'I love Thalberg.