a bold and serious step, and that had made her hate herself and her husband more every day, and she had suffered the torments of hell.  But the day before, when during a quarrel he had cried out in a tearful voice, “My God, when will it end?” and had walked off to his study, she had run after him like a cat after a mouse, and, preventing him from shutting the door, she had cried that she hated him with her whole soul.  Then he let her come into the study and she had told him everything, had confessed that she loved some one else, that that some one else was her real, most lawful husband, and that she thought it her true duty to go away to him that very day, whatever might happen, if she were to be shot for it.

“There’s a very romantic streak in you,” Orlov interrupted, keeping his eyes fixed on the newspaper.

She laughed and went on talking without touching her coffee.  Her cheeks glowed and she was a little embarrassed by it, and she looked in confusion at Polya and me.  From what she went on to say I learnt that her husband had answered her with threats, reproaches, and finally tears, and that it would have been more accurate to say that she, and not he, had been the attacking party.

“Yes, my dear, so long as I was worked up, everything went all right,” she told Orlov; “but as night came on, my spirits sank.  You don’t believe in God, George, but I do believe a little, and I fear retribution.  God requires of us patience, magnanimity, self-sacrifice, and here I am refusing to be patient and want to remodel my life to suit myself.  Is that right?  What if from the point of view of God it’s wrong?  At two o’clock in the night my husband came to me and said:  ’You dare not go away.  I’ll fetch you back through the police and make a scandal.’  And soon afterwards I saw him like a shadow at my door.  ’Have mercy on me!  Your elopement may injure me in the service.’  Those words had a coarse effect upon me and made me feel stiff all over.  I felt as though the retribution were beginning already; I began crying and trembling with terror.  I felt as though the ceiling would fall upon me, that I should be dragged off to the police-station at once, that you would grow cold to me—­all sorts of things, in fact!  I thought I would go into a nunnery or become a nurse, and give up all thought of happiness, but then I remembered that you loved me, and that I had no right to dispose of myself without your knowledge; and everything in my mind was in a tangle—­I was in despair and did not know what to do or think.  But the sun rose and I grew happier.  As soon as it was morning I dashed off to you.  Ah, what I’ve been through, dear one!  I haven’t slept for two nights!”

She was tired out and excited.  She was sleepy, and at the same time she wanted to talk endlessly, to laugh and to cry, and to go to a restaurant to lunch that she might feel her freedom.

“You have a cosy flat, but I am afraid it may be small for the two of us,” she said, walking rapidly through all the rooms when they had finished breakfast.  “What room will you give me?  I like this one because it is next to your study.”