And only now, when his hair had turned grey, had he genuinely, truly fallen in love – for the first time in his life.
Anna Sergeyevna and he loved one another as close intimates, as man and wife, as very dear friends. They thought that fate itself had intended them for each other and it was a mystery why he should have a wife and she a husband. And in fact they were like two birds of passage, male and female, caught and forced to live in separate cages. They forgave one another all they had been ashamed of in the past, forgave everything in the present, and they felt that this love of theirs had transformed them both.
Before, in moments of sadness, he had reassured himself with any kind of argument that happened to enter his head, but now he was not in the mood for arguments: he felt profound pity and wanted to be sincere, tender …
‘Please stop crying, my sweet,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a good cry … it’s enough … Let’s talk now – we’ll think of something.’
Then they conferred for a long time and wondered how they could free themselves from the need to hide, to deceive, to live in different towns, to see each other only after long intervals. How could they break free from these intolerable chains?
‘How? How?’ he asked, clutching his head. ‘How?’
And it seemed – given a little more time – a solution would be found and then a new and beautiful life would begin. And both of them clearly realized that the end was far, far away and that the most complicated and difficult part was only just beginning.