crest. 'I hope,' he found in the note, 'that you as a man of honour
will not allow yourself to hint by so much as a single word at a
certain promissory note which was talked of this morning. You are
acquainted with my position and my rules, the insignificance of the
sum in itself and the other circumstances; there are, in fine, family
secrets which must be respected, and family tranquillity is something
so sacred that only _etres sans cour_ (among whom I have no reason to
reckon you) would repudiate it! Give this note back to me.--N. S.'

Shubin scribbled below in pencil: 'Don't excite yourself, I'm not
quite a sneak yet,' and gave the note back to the man, and again began
upon the book. But it soon slipped out of his hands. He looked at the
reddening-sky, at the two mighty young pines standing apart from the
other trees, thought 'by day pines are bluish, but how magnificently
green they are in the evening,' and went out into the garden, in the
secret hope of meeting Elena there. He was not mistaken. Before him
on a path between the bushes he caught a glimpse of her dress. He went
after her, and when he was abreast with her, remarked:

'Don't look in my direction, I'm not worth it.'

She gave him a cursory glance, smiled cursorily, and walked on further
into the depths of the garden. Shubin went after her.

'I beg you not to look at me,' he began, 'and then I address you;
flagrant contradiction. But what of that? it's not the first time I've
contradicted myself. I have just recollected that I have never begged
your pardon as I ought for my stupid behaviour yesterday. You are not
angry with me, Elena Nikolaevna, are you?'