Do
you remember, Missy?" the Princess turned to Missy, who had just
entered.

"Because that was in play," answered Nekhludoff gravely. "In play it
is permissible, but in reality we are so bad, that is, I am so bad,
that I, at least, cannot tell the truth."

"Don't correct yourself, but rather say that we are so bad," said
Katherine Alexeievna, playing with the words, and pretending not to
see Nekhludoff's gravity.

"There is nothing worse than to confess being in low spirits," said
Missy. "I never confess it to myself, and that is why I am always
cheerful. Well, come to my room. We shall try to drive away your
mauvais humeur."

Nekhludoff experienced the feeling which a horse must feel when
brushed down before the bridle is put on and it is led to be harnessed
to the wagon. But to-day he was not at all disposed to draw. He
excused himself and began to take leave. Missy kept his hand longer
than usual.

"Remember that what is important to you is important to your friends,"
she said. "Will you come to-morrow?"

"I don't think I will," said Nekhludoff. And feeling ashamed, without
knowing himself whether for her or for himself, he blushed and hastily
departed.

"What does it mean? Comme cela m'intrigue," said Katherine Alexeievna,
when Nekhludoff had left. "I must find it out. Some affaire d'amour
propre; il est tres susceptible notre cher Mitia."

"Plutot une affaire d'amour sale," Missy was going to say. Her face
was now wan and pale. But she did not give expression to that passage,
and only said: "We all have our bright days and gloomy days."

"Is it possible that he, too, should deceive me?" she thought. "After
all that has happened, it would be very wrong of him."

If Missy had had to explain what she meant by the words, "After all
that has happened," she could have told nothing definite, and yet she
undoubtedly knew that not only had he given her cause to hope, but he
had almost made his promise--not in so many words, but by his glances,
his smiles, his innuendos, his silence. She considered him her own,
and to lose him would be very painful to her.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"It is shameful and disgusting," Nekhludoff meditated, while returning
home on foot along the familiar streets. The oppressive feeling which
he had experienced while speaking to Missy clung to him. He understood
that nominally, if one may so express himself, he was in the right; he
had never said anything to bind himself to her;