hummed a fragment of some tune or repeated some vague formula--in
short, at one of those moments when the mind leaves off thinking and the
imagination gains the upper hand and yearns for new impressions--I left
the schoolroom, and turned, with no definite purpose in view, towards
the head of the staircase.

Somebody in slippers was ascending the second flight of stairs. Of
course I felt curious to see who it was, but the footsteps ceased
abruptly, and then I heard Masha's voice say:

"Go away! What nonsense! What would Maria Ivanovna think if she were to
come now?"

"Oh, but she will not come," answered Woloda's voice in a whisper.

"Well, go away, you silly boy," and Masha came running up, and fled past
me.

I cannot describe the way in which this discovery confounded me.
Nevertheless the feeling of amazement soon gave place to a kind of
sympathy with Woloda's conduct. I found myself wondering less at the
conduct itself than at his ability to behave so agreeably. Also, I found
myself involuntarily desiring to imitate him.

Sometimes I would pace the landing for an hour at a time, with no other
thought in my head than to watch for movements from above. Yet, although
I longed beyond all things to do as Woloda had done, I could not bring
myself to the point. At other times, filled with a sense of envious
jealousy, I would conceal myself behind a door and listen to the sounds
which came from the maidservants' room, until the thought would occur to