I made no answer. She seemed to expect me to say something.
"Of course, it may be that I don't understand him fully yet. You know I was always as it were afraid of him; he was always so grave, as it were so proud. Of course I know it's only that he seems like that, I know there is more tenderness in his heart than in mine. I remember how he looked at me when I went in to himdo you remember?with my bundle; but yet I respect him too much, and doesn't that show that we are not equals?"
"No, Nastenka, no," I answered, "it shows that you love him more than anything in the world, and far more than yourself."
"Yes, supposing that is so," answered Nastenka naïvely. "But do you know what strikes me now? Only I am not talking about him now, but speaking generally; all this came into my mind some time ago. Tell me, how is it that we can't all be like brothers together? Why is it that even the best of men always seem to hide something from other people and to keep something back? Why not say straight out what is in one's heart, when one knows that one is not speaking idly? As it is every one seems harsher than he really is, as though all were afraid of doing injustice to their feelings, by being too quick to express them."
"Oh, Nastenka, what you say is true; but there are many reasons for that," I broke in suppressing my own feelings at that moment more than ever.
"No, no!" she answered with deep feeling. "Here you, for instance, are not like other people! I really don't know how to tell you what I feel; but it seems to me that you, for instance at the present moment it seems to me that you are sacrificing something for me," she added timidly, with a fleeting glance at me. "Forgive me for saying so, I am a simple girl you know. I have seen very little of life, and I really sometimes don't know how to say things," she added in a voice that quivered with some hidden feeling, while she tried to smile; "but I only wanted to tell you that I am grateful, that I feel it all too. Oh, may God give you happiness for it! What you told me about your dreamer is quite untrue nowthat is, I mean, it's not true of you. You are recovering, you are quite a different man from what you described. If you ever fall in love with some one, God give you happiness with her! I won't wish anything for her, for she will be happy with you. I know, I am a woman myself, so you must believe me when I tell you so."
She ceased speaking, and pressed my hand warmly. I too could not speak without emotion. Some minutes passed.
"Yes, it's clear he won't come tonight," she said at last raising her head. "It's late."
"He will come tomorrow," I said in the most firm and convincing tone.
"Yes," she added with no sign of her former depression. "I see for myself now that he could not come till tomorrow. Well, goodbye, till tomorrow. If it rains perhaps I shall not come. But the day after tomorrow, I shall come. I shall come for certain, whatever happens; be sure to be here, I want to see you, I will tell you everything."
And then when we parted she gave me her hand and said, looking at me candidly: "We shall always be together, shan't we?"
And then when we parted she gave me her hand and said, looking at me candidly: "We shall always be together, shan't we?"
Oh, Nastenka, Nastenka! If only you knew how lonely I am now!
As soon as it struck nine o'clock I could not stay indoors, but put on my things, and went out in spite of the weather. I was there, sitting on our seat. I went to her street, but I felt ashamed, and turned back without looking at their windows, when I was two steps from her door. I went home more depressed than I had ever been before. What a damp, dreary day! If it had been fine I should have walked about all night.
But tomorrow, tomorrow! Tomorrow she will tell me everything. The letter has not come today, however. But that was to be expected. They are together by now.
IV
Fourth Night
My God, how it has all ended! What it has all ended in! I arrived at nine o'clock. She was already there. I noticed her a good way off; she was standing as she had been that first time, with her elbows on the railing, and she did not hear me coming up to her.
"Nastenka!" I called to her, suppressing my agitation with an effort.
She turned to me quickly.
"Well?" she said. "Well? Make haste!"
I looked at her in perplexity.
"Well, where is the letter? Have you brought the letter?" she repeated clutching at the railing.
"No, there is no letter," I said at last. "Hasn't he been to you yet?" She turned fearfully pale and looked at me for a long time without moving. I had shattered her last hope.
"Well, God be with him," she said at last in a breaking voice; "God be with him if he leaves me like that."
She dropped her eyes, then tried to look at me and could not. For several minutes she was struggling with her emotion. All at once she turned away, leaning her elbows against the railing and burst into tears.
"Oh don't, don't!" I began; but looking at her I had not the heart to go on, and what was I to say to her?