"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 now—that 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 you 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, good-bye, 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?"
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. . . .
43
