he seat.

"I feel as cross as a dog," he muttered, clenching his fists. "I
hate and despise myself! My God! like some depraved schoolboy, I
am making love to another man's wife, writing idiotic letters,
degrading myself . . . ugh!"

Ilyin clutched at his head, grunted, and sat down. "And then your
insincerity!" he went on bitterly. "If you do dislike my disgusting
behaviour, why have you come here? What drew you here? In my letters
I only ask you for a direct, definite answer--yes or no; but
instead of a direct answer, you contrive every day these 'chance'
meetings with me and regale me with copy-book maxims!"

Madame Lubyantsev was frightened and flushed. She suddenly felt the
awkwardness which a decent woman feels when she is accidentally
discovered undressed.

"You seem to suspect I am playing with you," she muttered. "I have
always given you a direct answer, and . . . only today I've begged
you . . ."

"Ough! as though one begged in such cases! If you were to say
straight out 'Get away,' I should have been gone long ago; but
you've never said that. You've never once given me a direct answer.
Strange indecision! Yes, indeed; either you are playing with me,
or else . . ."

Ilyin leaned his head on his fists without finishing. Sofya Petrovna
began going over in her own mind the way she had behaved from
beginning to end. She remembered that not only in her actions, but
even in her secret thoughts, she had always been opposed to Ilyin's
love-making; but yet she felt there was a grain of truth in the
lawyer's words. But not knowing exactly what the truth was, she
could not find answers to make to Ilyin's complaint, however hard
she thought. It was awkward to be silent, and, shrugging her
shoulders, she said:

So I am to blame, it appears."

"I don't blame you for your insincerity," sighed Ilyin. "I did not
mean that when I spoke of it. . . . Your insincerity is natural and
in the order of things. If people agreed together and suddenly
became sincere, everything would go to the devil."

Sofya Petrovna was in no mood for philosophical reflections, but
she was glad of a chance to change the conversation, and asked:

"But why?"

"Because only savage women and animals are sincere. Once civilization
has introduced a demand for such comforts as, for instance, feminine
virtue, sincerity is out of place. . . ."

Ilyin jabbed his stick angrily into the sand. Madame Lubyantsev
listened to him and liked his conversa