He ceased speaking ... stretched....

Within half an hour he was no more. Elisei flung himself weeping at his
feet. I closed his eyes.

On his neck there was a little silken amulet on a black cord. I took
it.

Three days afterwards he was buried.... One of the noblest hearts was
hidden for ever in the grave. I myself threw the first handful of earth
upon him.


III

Another year and a half passed by. Business obliged me to visit Moscow.
I took up my quarters in one of the good hotels there. One day, as I
was passing along the corridor, I glanced at the black-board with the
list of visitors staying in the hotel, and almost cried out aloud with
astonishment. Opposite the number 12 stood, distinctly written in
chalk, the name, Sophia Nikolaevna Asanova. Of late I had chanced to
hear a good deal that was bad about her husband. I had learned that he
was addicted to drink and to gambling, had ruined himself, and was
generally misconducting himself. His wife was spoken of with
respect.... In some excitement I went back to my room. The passion,
that had long long ago grown cold, began as it were to stir within my
heart, and it throbbed. I resolved to go and see Sophia Nikolaevna.
'Such a long time has passed since the day we parted,' I thought, 'she
has, most likely, forgotten everything there was between us in those
days.'