“I loved you, Alexei Ivanovich,” Pavel Pavlovich said as if suddenly making up his mind, “And I loved you, sir, all that year in T———. You didn’t notice it, sir,” he went on in a slightly quavering voice, to Velchaninov’s decided horror, “I stood too small compared with you in order for you to notice. And perhaps it wasn’t necessary, sir. And for all these nine years I’ve remembered you, sir, because never in my life have I known such a year as that.” (Pavel Pavlovich’s eyes glistened somehow peculiarly.) “I remembered many of your words and utterances, sir, of your thoughts, sir. I always remembered you as an educated man, sir, ardent for good feelings, highly educated, and with thoughts. ‘Great thoughts come not so much from great intelligence as from great feeling, sir’—you yourself said that, and perhaps forgot it, but I remembered it, sir. I always counted on you, that is, as on a man of great feeling… that is, I believed, sir—despite all, sir…” His chin suddenly trembled. Velchaninov was completely frightened; this unexpected tone had to be stopped at all costs.
“Enough, please, Pavel Pavlovich,” he muttered, blushing and in irritated impatience. “And why, why,” he suddenly cried out, “why do you fasten yourself on to a sick, irritated, all but delirious man, and drag him into this darkness… when—it’s all a phantom and a mirage, and a lie, and shame, and unnaturalness, and—excessive—and that’s the main, the most shameful thing, that it’s excessive! And it’s all rubbish: we’re two depraved, underground, vile people… And if you like, if you like, I’ll prove to you right now that you not only do not love me, but that you hate me with all your strength and are lying without knowing it yourself: you took me and drove me there not at all for the ridiculous purpose of testing your fiancée (what a thing to come up with!)—you simply saw me yesterday and got angryand took me there to show her to me and say: ‘See her! She’s going to be mine; go on and try something now!’ You challenged me! Maybe you didn’t know it yourself, but it was so, because you did feel all that… And without hatred one can’t make such a challenge; and that means you hated me!” He was rushing up and down the room as he shouted this out, and most of all he was tormented and offended by the humiliating awareness that he was condescending so much to Pavel Pavlovich.
“I wished to make peace with you, Alexei Ivanovich!” the other suddenly pronounced resolutely, in a quick whisper, and his chin began to twitch again. Fierce rage took possession of Velchaninov, as if no one had ever given him such offense before!
“I tell you once again,” he screamed, “that you are… clinging to a sick and irritated man in order to tear from him, in his delirium, some phantasmal word! We… but we’re people from different worlds, understand that, and… and… a grave lies between us!” he whispered frenziedly—and suddenly recovered himself.
“And how do you know,” Pavel Pavlovich’s face suddenly became distorted and pale, “how do you know what that little grave means here… inside me, sir!” he cried out, stepping up to Velchaninov and, with a ridiculous but terrible gesture, striking himself on the heart with his fist. “I know that little grave here, sir, and we two stand on the sides of that grave, only my side has more on it than yours, more, sir…” he was whispering as if in delirium, while continuing to hit himself on the heart, “more, sir—more, sir…” Suddenly an extraordinary stroke of the doorbell brought them both to their senses. The ring was so strong that it seemed as if someone had vowed to tear the bell off with the first stroke.
“No one rings like that for me,” Velchaninov said in bewilderment.
“But it’s not for me either, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich whispered timidly, having also come to his senses and instantly turned back into the former Pavel Pavlovich. Velchaninov frowned and went to open the door.
“Mr. Velchaninov, if I am not mistaken?” a young, ringing, remarkably self-confident voice was heard in the hall.
“What is it?”
“I have precise information,” the ringing voice went on, “that a certain Trusotsky is presently with you. I absolutely must see him at once.” It would, of course, have been very agreeable to Velchaninov to send this self-confident gentleman down the stairs at once with a good kick. But he reflected, stepped aside, and let him pass.
“Here is Mr. Trusotsky. Come in…”
XIV
SASHENKA AND NADENKA
Into the room came a very young man, of about nineteen, perhaps even somewhat less—so youthful seemed his handsome, confidently upturned face. He was not badly dressed, at least everything sat well on him; he was above medium height; thick black hair broken into locks, and big, bold dark eyes especially marked his physiognomy. Only his nose was a little too broad and upturned; had it not been for that, he would have been an altogether handsome fellow. He entered imposingly.
“I believe I have the—occasion—of speaking with Mr. Trusotsky?” he said measuredly, emphasizing the word “occasion” with particular pleasure, thereby letting it be known that there could be neither honor nor pleasure for him in talking with Mr. Trusotsky.
Velchaninov was beginning to understand; it seemed that Pavel Pavlovich, too, was already seeing some light. His face expressed uneasiness; however, he stood up for himself.
“Not having the honor of knowing you,” he answered with a dignified air, “I suppose that I cannot have any business with you, sir.”
“First you will hear me out, and then express your opinion,” the young man said confidently and didactically, and, taking out a tortoiseshell lorgnette which he had hanging on a string, he began scrutinizing through it the bottle of champagne standing on the table. Having calmly finished his examination of the bottle, he folded the lorgnette and, again addressing Pavel Pavlovich, said:
“Alexander Lobov.”
“And what is this Alexander Lobov, sir?”
“I am he. Haven’t you heard?”
“No, sir.”
“Anyway, how could you know. I’ve come with an important matter, which in fact concerns you; allow me to sit down, however, I’m tired…”
“Sit down,” Velchaninov invited—but the young man had managed to sit down before he was invited. Despite a growing pain in his chest, Velchaninov was intrigued by this impudent boy. In his pretty, childish, and ruddy face he glimpsed some distant resemblance to Nadya.
“You sit down, too,” the youth offered to Pavel Pavlovich, indicating the place opposite him with a casual nod.
“Never mind, sir, I’ll stand.”
“You’ll get tired. I suppose, Mr. Velchaninov, that you may not have to go.”
“I have nowhere to go. I live here.”
“As you will. I confess, I even wish you to be present at my talk with this gentleman. Nadezhda Fedoseevna has recommended you to me quite flatteringly.”
“Hah! When did she have time?”
“Just after you left. I’m coming from there, too. The thing is this, Mr. Trusotsky,” he turned to the standing Pavel Pavlovich, “we, that is, Nadezhda Fedoseevna and I,” he spoke through his teeth, sprawling casually in the armchair, “have long been in love and have pledged ourselves to each other. You are now a hindrance between us; I’ve come to suggest that you vacate that place. Will you be pleased to accept my suggestion?”
Pavel Pavlovich even swayed; he turned pale, but a sarcastic smile at once forced itself to his lips.
“No, sir, not at all pleased,” he snapped laconically.
“Well, now!” the youth turned in the armchair and crossed one leg over the other.
“I don’t even know with whom I am speaking, sir,” Pavel Pavlovich added, “I even think there is no reason for us to continue.”
Having spoken that out, he, too, found it necessary to sit down.
“I told you you’d get tired,” the youth observed casually. “I just had occasion to inform you that my name is Lobov and that Nadezhda Fedoseevna and I have pledged ourselves to each other—consequently, you can’t say, as you just did, that you don’t know whom you are dealing with; nor can you think that we have nothing to continue talking about; not to mention me—the matter concerns Nadezhda Fedoseevna, whom you are so insolently pestering. And that alone already constitutes a sufficient reason for explanations.”