It is all for the best. That new suffering
created within me a fortunate diversion -- to speak
in military style. To weep is healthy, and then,
no doubt, if I had not ridden as I did and had
not been obliged to walk fifteen versts on my way
back, sleep would not have closed my eyes on that
night either.

I returned to Kislovodsk at five o'clock in the
morning, threw myself on my bed, and slept the
sleep of Napoleon after Waterloo.

By the time I awoke it was dark outside. I sat by
the open window, with my jacket unbuttoned --
and the mountain breeze cooled my breast, still
troubled by the heavy sleep of weariness. In
the distance beyond the river, through the tops
of the thick lime trees which overshadowed it,
lights were glancing in the fortress and the vil-
lage. Close at hand all was calm. It was dark in
Princess Ligovski's house.

The doctor entered; his brows were knit;
contrary to custom, he did not offer me his
hand.

"Where have you come from, doctor?"

"From Princess Ligovski's; her daughter is
ill -- nervous exhaustion. . . That is not the