ties, his acquaintances, his past, all that he had always concealed, that he had never spoken openly of to any one! He told her of the letters he received, of Vassily Nikolaevitch, of everything—even of Silin! He spoke hurriedly, without reluctance, or the faintest hesitation, as though he were reproaching himself for not having initiated Marianna into all his secrets before, as though he were seeking her pardon. She heard him attentively, greedily; for the first minute she was bewildered.. . . But that feeling vanished at once. Gratitude, pride, devotion, resolution, that was what her soul was overflowing with. Her face, her eyes were bright; she laid her other hand on Nezhdanov's hand, her lips were parted in rapture.. . . She had suddenly grown marvellously beautiful!
He stopped at last, looked at her, and as it were for the first time saw that face, which seemed at the same time so dear and so familiar to him.
He gave a deep, long sigh. . . .
'Ah! I have done well to tell you everything!'─his lips were hardly able to utter the words.
'Yes, oh, so well, so well!' she repeated, also in a whisper. She unconsciously imitated him, and, indeed, her voice failed her too. 'And it means, you know,' she went on, 'that I am at
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