my mind. Sometimes when it happens to me to brood a long while on that
time, some memories suddenly float up out of the darkness of the
past--like stars which suddenly come out against the evening sky to
meet the eyes straining to catch sight of them. One country walk in a
wood has remained particularly distinct in my memory. There were four
of us, old Madame Ozhogin, Liza, I, and a certain Bizmyonkov, a petty
official of the town of O----, a light-haired, good-natured, and
harmless person. I shall have more to say of him later. Mr. Ozhogin had
stayed at home; he had a headache, from sleeping too long. The day was
exquisite; warm and soft. I must observe that pleasure-gardens and
picnic-parties are not to the taste of the average Russian. In district
towns, in the so-called public gardens, you never meet a living soul at
any time of the year; at the most, some old woman sits sighing and
moaning on a green garden seat, broiling in the sun, not far from a
sickly tree--and that, only if there is no greasy little bench in the
gateway near. But if there happens to be a scraggy birchwood in the
neighbourhood of the town, tradespeople and even officials gladly make
excursions thither on Sundays and holidays, with samovars, pies, and
melons; set all this abundance on the dusty grass, close by the road,
sit round, and eat and drink tea in the sweat of their brows till
evening. Just such a wood there was at that time a mile and a half from
the town of O---. We repaired there after dinner, duly drank our fill
of tea, and then all four began to wander about the wood. Bizmyonkov
walked with Madame Ozhogin on his arm, I with Liza on mine. The day was
already drawing to evening. I was at that time in the very fire of
first love (not more than a fortnight had passed since our first
meeting), in that condition of passionate and concentrated adoration,
when your whole soul innocently and unconsciously follows every
movement of the beloved being, when you can never have enough of her
presence, listen enough to her voice, when you smile with the look of a