with the Governor, and at the same time was dimly aware that it was
not real.

When I came to myself I saw that I was no longer in the house, but
in the street, and was standing with the doctor near a lamp-post.

"It's sad, it's sad," he was saying, and tears were trickling down
his cheeks. "She is in good spirits, she's always laughing and
hopeful, but her position's hopeless, dear boy. Your Radish hates
me, and is always trying to make me feel that I have treated her
badly. He is right from his standpoint, but I have my point of view
too; and I shall never regret all that has happened. One must love;
we ought all to love--oughtn't we? There would be no life without
love; anyone who fears and avoids love is not free."

Little by little he passed to other subjects, began talking of
science, of his dissertation which had been liked in Petersburg.
He was carried away by his subject, and no longer thought of my
sister, nor of his grief, nor of me. Life was of absorbing interest
to him. She has America and her ring with the inscription on it, I
thought, while this fellow has his doctor's degree and a professor's
chair to look forward to, and only my sister and I are left with
the old things.

When I said good-bye to him, I went up to the lamp-post and read
the letter once more. And I remembered, I remembered vividly how
that spring morning she had come to me at the mill, lain down and
covered herself with her jacket--she wanted to be like a simple
peasant woman. And how, another time--it was in the morning also
--we drew the net out of the water, and heavy drops of rain fell