me, how is your brother? He's a fine
fellow, such a handsome man! . . . I've seen him several times at
mass. Why do you look at me like that? I very often go to church!
We all have the same God. To an educated person externals matter
less than the idea. . . . That's so, isn't it?"

"Yes, of course . . ." smiled the lieutenant.

"Yes, the idea. . . . But you are not a bit like your brother. You
are handsome, too, but your brother is a great deal better-looking.
There's wonderfully little likeness!"

"That's quite natural; he's not my brother, but my cousin."

"Ah, to be sure! So you must have the money to-day? Why to-day?"

"My furlough is over in a few days."

"Well, what's to be done with you!" sighed Susanna Moiseyevna. "So
be it. I'll give you the money, though I know you'll abuse me for
it afterwards. You'll quarrel with your wife after you are married,
and say: 'If that mangy Jewess hadn't given me the money, I should
perhaps have been as free as a bird to-day!" Is your fiancee pretty?"

"Oh yes. . . ."

"H'm! . . . Anyway, better something, if it's only beauty, than
nothing. Though however beautiful a woman is, it can never make up
to her husband for her silliness."

"That's original!" laughed the lieutenant. "You are a woman yourself,
and such a woman-hater!"

"A woman . . ." smiled Susanna. "It's not my fault that God has
cast me into this mould, is it? I'm no more to blame for it than
you are for having moustaches. The violin is not responsible for
the choice of its case. I am very fond of myself, but when any one
reminds me that I am a woman, I begin to hate myself. Well, you can
go away, and I'll dress. Wait for me in the drawing-room."

The lieutenant went out, and the first thing he did was to draw a
deep breath, to get rid of the heavy scent of jasmine, which had
begun to irritate his throat and to make him feel giddy.

"What a strange woman!" he thought, looking about him. "She talks
fluently, but . . . far too much, and too freely. She must be
neurotic."

The drawing-room, in which he was standing now, was richly furnished,
and had pretensions to luxury and style. There were dark bronze
dishes with patterns in relief, views of Nice and the Rhine on the
tables, old-fashioned sconces, Japanese statuettes, but all this
striving after luxury and style only emphasised the lack of taste
which was glaringly apparent in the gilt cornices, the gaudy
wall-paper, the bright velvet table-cloths, the