"Listen, old man," he said, as if suddenly making up his mind, "keep an eye out for her all day today, and if you see her coming to me, stop her at once, and tell her that at least for a few days I'll be unable to receive her... that I myself ask it of her... and that I'll send for her when the time comes—do you hear?"
"I'll tell her, sir," Alexei Yegorovich said, with anguish in his voice, lowering his eyes.
"But not before you see clearly that she's coming to me herself."
"Do not worry, if you please, sir, there will be no mistakes. Up to now the visits have taken place through me; my assistance has always been called upon."
"I know. But, still, not before she comes herself. Bring me some tea, quickly, if you can."
As soon as the old man went out, at almost the same moment, the same door opened and Darya Pavlovna appeared on the threshold. Her eyes were calm, but her face was pale.
"Where did you come from?" Stavrogin exclaimed.
"I was standing right here, waiting for him to come out so that I could come in. I heard the order you gave him, and when he came out just now, I hid around the corner to the right, and he didn't notice me."
"I've long meant to break it off with you, Dasha... meanwhile... for the time being. I couldn't receive you last night, despite your note. I wanted to write back to you, but I'm no good at writing," he added with vexation, even as if with disgust.
"I myself thought we should break it off. Varvara Petrovna is too suspicious of our relations."
"Well, let her be."
"No, she shouldn't worry. And so, that's it now, until the end?"
"You're still so certainly expecting an end?"
"Yes, I'm sure of it."
"Nothing in the world ever ends."
"Here there will be an end. Call me then; I'll come. Now, good-bye."
"And what sort of end will it be?" Nikolai Vsevolodovich grinned.
"You're not wounded, and... haven't shed blood?" she asked, without answering his question about the end.
"It was stupid; I didn't kill anyone, don't worry. However, you'll hear all about it this very day from everyone. I'm a bit unwell."
"I'll leave. The marriage won't be announced today?" she added irresolutely.
"Not today; not tomorrow; about the day after tomorrow I don't know, maybe we'll all die, and so much the better. Leave me, leave me, finally."
"You won't ruin the other woman... the insane one?"
"I won't ruin the insane ones, neither the one nor the other, but it seems I will ruin the sane one: I'm so mean and vile, Dasha, that it seems I really will call you 'in the final end,' as you say, and you, despite your sanity, will come. Why are you ruining yourself?"
"I know that finally I alone will remain with you, and... I'm waiting for that."
"And what if I don't finally call you, but run away from you?"
"That cannot be. You will call."
"There's much contempt for me there." "You know it's not just contempt."
"So there is still contempt?"
"I didn't put it right. God be my witness, I wish very much that you should never have need of me."
"One phrase is worth another. I also wish not to ruin you."
"Nothing you do can ever ruin me, and you know it better than anyone else," Darya Pavlovna said quickly and firmly. "If it's not you, I'll become a sister of mercy, or a sick-nurse, or a book-hawker and sell Gospels. I've decided it so. I can't be anyone's wife; I can't live in a house like this either; that's not what I want. . . You know all that."
"No, I never could discover what you wanted; it seems to me that you're interested in me in the same way as certain antiquated sick-nurses for some reason take an interest in some one patient as opposed to all the others, or, better still, the way certain pious old women who hang about at funerals prefer certain nice little corpses that are comelier than the others. Why are you looking at me so strangely?"
"Are you very sick?" she asked sympathetically, looking at him in some special way. "Oh, God! And this man wants to do without me!"
"Listen, Dasha! I keep seeing ghosts now. Yesterday, on the bridge, one little demon offered to put a knife into Lebyadkin and Marya Timofeevna for me, to do away with my lawful marriage and cover the traces. He asked for three roubles down, but let me know plainly that the whole operation would cost not less than fifteen hundred. There's a calculating demon for you! A bookkeeper! Ha, ha!"
"But you're quite certain it was a ghost?"
"Oh, no, it wasn't a ghost at all! It was simply Fedka the Convict, a robber who escaped from hard labor. But that's not the point: what do you think I did? I gave him all the money I had in my wallet, and now he's quite certain I've given him his down payment."
"You met him at night, and he made you such an offer? But don't you see that you're all entangled in their net!"
"Well, never mind them. You know, you've got a question on the tip of your tongue, I can see by your eyes," he added, with a spiteful and irritated smile.
Dasha became frightened.
"There isn't any question, and there aren't any doubts whatever, you'd better keep still!" she cried anxiously, as if waving his question away.
"So you're sure I won't go shopping at Fedka's?"
"Oh, God!" she clasped her hands, "why do you torment me so?"
"Well, forgive me my stupid joke, I must be acquiring their bad manners. You know, since last night I've wanted terribly to laugh, to laugh all the time, constantly, long, loud. It's as if I'm charged with laughter... Sh! Mother's come back; I can tell the clatter of her carriage when it stops at the porch."
Dasha seized his hand.
"May God preserve you from your dark spirit, and... call me, call me soon!"
"Oh, he's no dark spirit! He's simply a nasty, scrofulous little demon with a runny nose, a failure. And you, Dasha, again there's something you don't dare say?"
She looked at him with pain and reproach, and turned towards the door.
"Listen!" he shouted after her with a spiteful, twisted smile. "If... well, in short, if...you understand, well, even if I did go shopping, and called you after that—would you still come, after that shopping?"
She went out without turning or answering, covering her face with her hands.
"She'll come even after that shopping!" he whispered, having thought a moment, with a look of scornful disgust. "A sick-nurse! Hm! ... However, that may be just what I need."
4: All in Expectation
1
The impression produced in our whole society by the story of the duel, which quickly became public, was especially remarkable for the unanimity with which everyone hastened to declare himself unconditionally for Nikolai Vsevolodovich. Many of his former enemies resolutely proclaimed themselves his friends. The main reason for such an unexpected turnabout in public opinion was a few words, spoken aloud with unusual aptness by a certain person who until then had not spoken, which all at once gave the event a significance that greatly interested our vast majority. This is how it happened: the very next day after the event, the whole town gathered to celebrate the name day of the wife of our provincial marshal of nobility. Yulia Mikhailovna was also present, or, rather, presided, having arrived with Lizaveta Nikolaevna, who shone with beauty and a special gaiety, which this time many of our ladies at once found especially suspicious. Incidentally, there could no longer be any doubts about her engagement to Mavriky Nikolaevich. That evening, to the jocular question of one retired but important general, of whom more will be said later, Lizaveta Nikolaevna herself answered directly that she was engaged. And what do you think? Decidedly none of our ladies wanted to believe in this engagement. They all stubbornly continued to suppose some romance, some fatal family secret that had taken place in Switzerland, and for some reason necessarily with Yulia Mikhailovna's participation. It is hard to say why all these rumors, or even, so to speak, dreams, held out so stubbornly, or precisely why it was so necessary to drag Yulia Mikhailovna into it. As soon as she entered, everyone turned to her with strange looks, overflowing with expectations. It must be noted that in view of the recentness of the event and certain accompanying circumstances, it was still being spoken of somewhat cautiously that evening, and not aloud. Besides, nothing was known yet about the orders of the authorities. [106]Neither duelist, as far as anyone knew, had been inconvenienced. Everyone knew, for example, that Artemy Pavlovich had gone to his Dukhovo estate early in the morning without any hindrance. Meanwhile, everyone was certainly longing for someone to be the first to speak out and thereby open the door for public impatience. They placed their hopes precisely in the above-mentioned general, and were not mistaken.