"It's like this," she began in a weak and quivering voice, in which, however, there was a note that pierced my heart with a sweet pang; "don't think that I am so light and inconstant, don't think that I can forget and change so quickly. I have loved him for a whole year, and I swear by God that I have never, never, even in thought, been unfaithful to him. He has despised me, he has been laughing at meGod forgive him! But he has insulted me and wounded my heart. I I do not love him, for I can only love what is magnanimous, what understands me, what is generous; for I am like that myself and he is not worthy of mewell, that's enough of him. He has done better than if he had deceived my expectations later, and shown me later what he was. Well, it's over! But who knows, my dear friend," she went on pressing my hand, "who knows, perhaps my whole love was a mistaken feeling, a delusionperhaps it began in mischief, in nonsense, because I was kept so strictly by grandmother? Perhaps I ought to love another man, not him, a different man, who would have pity on me and and. But don't let us say any more about that," Nastenka broke off, breathless with emotion, "I only wanted to tell you I wanted to tell you that if, although I love him (no, did love him), if, in spite of this you still say. If you feel that your love is so great that it may at last drive from my heart my old feelingif you will have pity on meif you do not want to leave me alone to my fate, without hope, without consolationif you are ready to love me always as you do nowI swear to you that gratitude that my love will be at last worthy of your love. Will you take my hand?"
"Nastenka!" I cried breathless with sobs. "Nastenka, oh Nastenka!"
"Enough, enough! Well, now it's quite enough," she said, hardly able to control herself. "Well, now all has been said, hasn't it! Hasn't it? You are happyI am happy too. Not another word about it, wait; spare me talk of something else, for God's sake."
"Yes, Nastenka, yes! Enough about that, now I am happy. I Yes, Nastenka, yes, let us talk of other things, let us make haste and talk. Yes! I am ready."
And we did not know what to say: we laughed, we wept, we said thousands of things meaningless and incoherent; at one moment we walked along the pavement, then suddenly turned back and crossed the road; then we stopped and went back again to the embankment; we were like children.
"I am living alone now, Nastenka," I began, "but tomorrow! Of course you know, Nastenka, I am poor, I have only got twelve hundred roubles, but that doesn't matter."
"Of course not, and granny has her pension, so she will be no burden. We must take granny."
"Of course we must take granny. But there's Matrona."
"Yes, and we've got Fyokla too!"
"Matrona is a good woman, but she has one fault: she has no imagination, Nastenka, absolutely none; but that doesn't matter."
"That's all rightthey can live together; only you must move to us tomorrow."
"To you? How so? All right, I am ready."
"Yes, hire a room from us. We have a top floor, it's empty. We had an old lady lodging there, but she has gone away; and I know granny would like to have a young man. I said to her, 'Why a young man?' And she said, 'Oh, because I am old; only don't you fancy, Nastenka, that I want him as a husband for you.' So I guessed it was with that idea."
"Oh, Nastenka!"
And we both laughed.
"Come, that's enough, that's enough. But where do you live? I've forgotten."
"Over that way, near X bridge, Barannikov's Buildings."
"It's that big house?"
"Yes, that big house."
"Oh, I know, a nice house; only you know you had better give it up and come to us as soon as possible."
"Tomorrow, Nastenka, tomorrow; I owe a little for my rent there but that doesn't matter. I shall soon get my salary."
"And do you know I will perhaps give lessons; I will learn something myself and then give lessons."
"Capital! And I shall soon get a bonus."
"So by tomorrow you will be my lodger."
"And we will go to The Barber of Seville, for they are soon going to give it again."
"Yes, we'll go," said Nastenka, "but better see something else and not The Barber of Seville."
"Very well, something else. Of course that will be better, I did not think"
As we talked like this we walked along in a sort of delirium, a sort of intoxication, as though we did not know what was happening to us. At one moment we stopped and talked for a long time at the same place; then we went on again, and goodness knows where we went; and again tears and again laughter. All of a sudden Nastenka would want to go home, and I would not dare to detain her but would want to see her to the house; we set off, and in a quarter of an hour found ourselves at the embankment by our seat. Then she would sigh, and tears would come into her eyes again; I would turn chill with dismay. But she would press my hand and force me to walk, to talk, to chatter as before.
"It's time I was home at last; I think it must be very late," Nastenka said at last. "We must give over being childish."
"Yes, Nastenka, only I shan't sleep tonight; I am not going home."