'I see,' I went on, 'it's useless for me to hope.'...

Varia looked shyly round and gave me her hand without a word.

'Varia!' I cried involuntarily...and stopped, as though frightened at
my own hopes.

'Speak to papa,' she articulated at last.

'You permit me to speak to Ivan Semyonitch?' ...

'Yes.'... I covered her hands with kisses.

'Don't, don't,' whispered Varia, and suddenly burst into tears.

I sat down beside her, talked soothingly to her, wiped away her
tears.... Luckily, Ivan Semyonitch was not at home, and Matrona
Semyonovna had gone up to her own little room. I made vows of love, of
constancy to Varia.

...'Yes,' she said, suppressing her sobs and continually wiping her
eyes; 'I know you are a good man, an honest man; you are not like
Kolosov.'... 'That name again!' thought I. But with what delight I
kissed those warm, damp little hands! with what subdued rapture I gazed
into that sweet face!... I talked to her of the future, walked about
the room, sat down on the floor at her feet, hid my eyes in my hands,
and shuddered with happiness.... Ivan Semyonitch's heavy footsteps cut
short our conversation. Varia hurriedly got up and went off to her own
room--without, however, pressing my hand or glancing at me. Mr.