to go and see them rather often. Not being self-conscious, he was not
shy, but in their house, as everywhere, he said very little; they liked
him, however. Even the tedious old man, Tatiana Vassilievna's husband,
was friendly to him, and both the silent girls were soon quite at home
with him.

Sometimes he would arrive, bringing with him in the back pocket of his
coat some book that had just come out, and for a long time would not
make up his mind to read, but would keep stretching his neck out on one
side, like a bird, looking about him as though inquiring, 'could he?'
At last he would establish himself in a corner (he always liked sitting
in corners), would pull out a book and set to reading, at first in a
whisper, then louder and louder, occasionally interrupting himself with
brief criticisms or exclamations. I noticed that Varvara was readier to
sit by him and listen than her sister, though she certainly did not
understand much; literature was not in her line. She would sit opposite
Pasinkov, her chin in her hands, staring at him--not into his eyes, but
into his whole face--and would not utter a syllable, but only heave a
noisy, sudden sigh. Sometimes in the evenings we used to play forfeits,
especially on Sundays and holidays. We were joined on these occasions
by two plump, short young ladies, sisters, and distant relations of the
Zlotnitskys, terribly given to giggling, and a few lads from the
military school, very good-natured, quiet fellows. Pasinkov always used
to sit beside Tatiana Vassilievna, and with her, judge what was to be
done to the one who had to pay a forfeit.

Sophia did not like the kisses and such demonstrations, with which
forfeits are often paid, while Varvara used to be cross if she had to
look for anything or guess something. The young ladies giggled
incessantly--laughter seemed to bubble up by some magic in them,--I