a cold object of brass
and porcelain, amongst the scattered pages of his notes and small
piles of books--a mere litter of blackened paper--dead matter--without
significance or interest.

He got on his feet, and divesting himself of his cloak hung it on the
peg, going through all the motions mechanically. An incredible dullness,
a ditch-water stagnation was sensible to his perceptions as though life
had withdrawn itself from all things and even from his own thoughts.
There was not a sound in the house.

Turning away from the peg, he thought in that same lifeless manner that
it must be very early yet; but when he looked at the watch on his table
he saw both hands arrested at twelve o'clock.

"Ah! yes," he mumbled to himself, and as if beginning to get roused
a little he took a survey of his room. The paper stabbed to the wall
arrested his attention. He eyed it from the distance without approval or
perplexity; but when he heard the servant-girl beginning to bustle about
in the outer room with the _samovar_ for his morning tea, he walked up
to it and took it down with an air of profound indifference.

While doing this he glanced down at the bed on which he had not slept
that night. The hollow in the pillow made by the weight of Haldin's head
was very noticeable.

Even his anger at this sign of the man's passage was dull. He did not
try to nurse it into life. He did nothing all that day; he neglected
even to brush his hair. The idea of going out never occurred to him--and
if he did not start a connected train of thought it was not because he
was unable to think. It was because he was not interested enough.

He yawned frequently. He drank large quantities of tea, he walked about
aimlessly, and when he sat down he did not budge for a long time. He
spent some time drumming on the window with his finger-tips quietly. In
his listless wanderings round about the table he caught sight of his own
face in the looking-glass and that arrested him. The eyes which returned
his stare were the most unhappy eyes he had ever seen. And this was the
first thing which disturbed the mental stagnation of that day.

He was not affected personally. He merely thought that life without
happiness is impossible. What was happiness? He yawned and went on
shuffling about and about between the walls of his room. Looking
forward was happiness--that's all--nothing more. To look forward to
the gratification of some desire, to the gratification of some