tern. She would have
supposed that Schmidt was inventing a description of such comfort and
comparative luxury in order to calm her fears, and she would have been ten
times more afraid than before.

It is small wonder that she could not sleep. The Count's arrest alone
would have sufficed to keep her in an agony of wakefulness, and there were
other matters, besides that, which tormented the poor girl's brain. She
had been long accustomed to his singular madness and to hearing from him
the assurance of his returning to wealth. At first, with perfect
simplicity, she had believed every word of the story he told with such
evident certainty of its truth, and she had reproached her older
companions, as far as she dared, for their incredulity. But at last she
had herself been convinced of his madness as through the weeks, and
months, and years, the state of expectation returned on Tuesday evenings,
to be followed by the disappointments of Wednesday and by the oblivion
which ensued on Thursday morning. Vjera, like the rest, had come to regard
the regularly recurring delusion as being wholly groundless, and not to be
taken into account, except inasmuch as it deprived them of the Count's
company on Wednesdays, for on that day he stayed at home, in his garret
room, waiting for the high personages who were to restore to him his
wealth. Sometimes, indeed, when he chanced to be very sure that they would
not come for him until evening, he would stroll through the town for an
hour, looking into the shop windows and making up his mind what he should
buy; and sometimes, on such occasions, he would visit the scene of his
late labours, as he called the tobacconist's shop on that day of the week,
and would exchange a few friendly words with his former companions. On
Thursday morning he invariably returned to his place without remark and
resumed his work, not seeming to understand any observations made about
his absence or strange conduct on the previous day.

So far the story he had told Vjera had always been the same. Now, however,
he had introduced a new incident in the tale, which filled poor Vjera with
dismay. He had never before spoken of his father and brother, except as
the causes of his disasters, explaining that the powerful influence of his
own friends, aided by the machinery of justice, had at last obliged them
to concede him a proportional part of the fortune. Fischelowitz was
accustomed to laugh at this statement, saying that if