seem actually to be present with me in this room! Most frequently
of all, I see my mother. Ah, the dreams that come to me! I feel
that my health is breaking, so weak am I. When this morning I
arose, sickness took me until I vomited and vomited. Yes, I feel,
I know, that death is approaching. Who will bury me when it has
come? Who will visit my tomb? Who will sorrow for me? And now it
is in a strange place, in the house of a stranger, that I may
have to die! Yes, in a corner which I do not know! ... My God,
how sad a thing is life! ... Why do you send me comfits to eat?
Whence do you get the money to buy them? Ah, for God's sake keep
the money, keep the money. Thedora has sold a carpet which I have
made. She got fifty roubles for it, which is very good--I had
expected less. Of the fifty roubles I shall give Thedora three,
and with the remainder make myself a plain, warm dress. Also, I
am going to make you a waistcoat--to make it myself, and out of
good material.

Also, Thedora has brought me a book--"The Stories of Bielkin"--
which I will forward you, if you would care to read it. Only, do
not soil it, nor yet retain it, for it does not belong to me. It
is by Pushkin. Two years ago I read these stories with my mother,
and it would hurt me to read them again. If you yourself have any
books, pray let me have them--so long as they have not been
obtained from Rataziaev. Probably he will be giving you one of
his own works when he has had one printed. How is it that his
compositions please you so much, Makar Alexievitch? I think them
SUCH rubbish!

--Now goodbye. How I have been chattering on! When feeling sad, I
always like to talk of something, for it acts upon me like