criticise me. But hear my defence, at least, though...'

Here he paused for a little while and smiled curiously. 'Varia's an
excellent girl,' he went on, 'and has done me no wrong whatever.... On
the contrary, I am greatly, very greatly indebted to her. I have left
off going to see her for a very simple reason--I have left off caring
for her....'

'But why? why?' I interrupted him.

'Goodness knows why. While I loved her, I was entirely hers; I never
thought of the future, and everything, my whole life, I shared with her
... now this passion has died out in me.... Well, you would tell me to
be a humbug, to play at being in love, wouldn't you? But what for? from
pity for her? If she's a decent girl, she won't care for such charity
herself, but if she is glad to be consoled by my ... my sympathy, well,
she's not good for much!'

Kolosov's carelessly offhand expressions offended me, perhaps, the more
because they were applied to the woman with whom I was secretly in
love.... I fired up. 'Stop,' I said to him; 'stop! I know why you have
given up going to see Varia.'

'Why?'

'Taniusha has forbidden you to.'

In uttering these words, I fancied I was dealing a most cutting blow at
Andrei. Taniusha was a very 'easy-going' young lady, black-haired,
dark, five-and-twenty, free in her manners, and devilishly clever, a