shoulders taller. Pigasov almost withered up with fury, and his sour
face grew pale.

'Darya Mihailovna is mistaken,' he said in an unsteady voice, 'I do
not only attack women; I am not a great admirer of the whole human
species.'

'What can have given you such a poor opinion of them?' inquired
Rudin.

Pigasov looked him straight in the face.

'The study of my own heart, no doubt, in which I find every day more
and more that is base. I judge of others by myself. Possibly this too
is erroneous, and I am far worse than others, but what am I to do?
it's a habit!'

'I understand you and sympathise with you!' was Rudin's rejoinder.
'What generous soul has not experienced a yearning for
self-humiliation? But one ought not to remain in that condition from
which there is no outlet beyond.'

'I am deeply indebted for the certificate of generosity you confer on
my soul,' retorted Pigasov. 'As for my condition, there's not much
amiss with it, so that even if there were an outlet from it, it might
go to the deuce, I shouldn't look for it!'

'But that means--pardon the expression--to prefer the gratification
of your own pride to the desire to be and live in the truth.'