likely I' ... (she squeezed her hands raised to her lips so hard, that the
fingers gave a distinct crack).... 'As though I made any sort of demands of
you, as though explanations were necessary first....

"My dear madam,... I am, I confess, surprised,... if I can be of any use"
... Ah! I am mad!--I was mistaken in you--in your face!... when I saw you
the first time ...! Here ... you stand.... If only one word. What, not one
word?'

She ceased.... Her face suddenly flushed, and as suddenly took a wrathful
and insolent expression. 'Mercy! how idiotic this is!' she cried suddenly,
with a shrill laugh. 'How idiotic our meeting is! What a fool I am!... and
you too.... Ugh!'

She gave a contemptuous wave of her hand, as though motioning him out of
her road, and passing him, ran quickly out of the boulevard, and vanished.

The gesture of her hand, the insulting laugh, and the last exclamation,
at once carried Aratov back to his first frame of mind, and stifled the
feeling that had sprung up in his heart when she turned to him with tears
in her eyes. He was angry again, and almost shouted after the retreating
girl: 'You may make a good actress, but why did you think fit to play off
this farce on me?'

He returned home with long strides, and though he still felt anger and
indignation all the way, yet across these evil, malignant feelings,
unconsciously, the memory forced itself of the exquisite face he had seen
for a single moment only.... He even put himself the question, 'Why did
I not answer her when she asked of me only a word? I had not time,' he
thought. 'She did not let me utter the word ... and what word could I have