retreat, and only regretted that he had not stayed to supper, when there
had been champagne! (of the Novgorod brand, we may remark in parenthesis).
Kupfer probably realised that it had been a mistake on his part to disturb
his friend, and that Aratov really was a man 'not suited' to that circle
and way of life. On his side, too, Aratov said nothing of the princess, nor
of the previous evening. Platonida Ivanovna did not know whether to rejoice
at the failure of this first experiment or to regret it. She decided at
last that Yasha's health might suffer from such outings, and was comforted.
Kupfer went away directly after dinner, and did not show himself again
for a whole week. And it was not that he resented the failure of his
suggestion, the good fellow was incapable of that, but he had obviously
found some interest which was absorbing all his time, all his thoughts; for
later on, too, he rarely appeared at the Aratovs', had an absorbed look,
spoke little and quickly vanished.... Aratov went on living as before; but
a sort of--if one may so express it--little hook was pricking at his soul.
He was continually haunted by some reminiscence, he could not quite tell
what it was himself, and this reminiscence was connected with the evening
he had spent at the princess's. For all that he had not the slightest
inclination to return there again, and the world, a part of which he had
looked upon at her house, repelled him more than ever. So passed six weeks.

And behold one morning Kupfer stood before him once more, this time with
a somewhat embarrassed countenance. 'I know,' he began with a constrained
smile, 'that your visit that time was not much to your taste; but I hope
for all that you'll agree to my proposal ... that you won't refuse me my
request!'

'What is it?' inquired Aratov.

'Well, do you see,' pursued Kupfer, getting more and more heated: 'there