doff.

"It is necessary for her that you should also approve of it."

"I can only say that I am not free, but she is free to do what she
wishes."

Simonson began to ponder.

"Very well, I will tell her so. Do not think that I am in love with
her," he continued. "I admire her as a good, rare person who has
suffered much. I wish nothing from her, but I would very much like to
help her, to relieve her----"

Simonson's trembling voice surprised Nekhludoff.

"To relieve her condition," continued Simonson. "If she does not wish
to accept your help, let her accept mine. If she consented, I would
ask permission to join her in prison. Four years is not an eternity. I
would live near her, and perhaps lighten her fate----" His emotion again
compelled him to stop.

"What can I say?" said Nekhludoff. "I am glad that she has found such
a protector."

"That is just what I wanted to know," continued Simonson. "I wished to
know whether you, loving her and seeking her good, could approve of
her marrying me?"

"Oh, yes," Nekhludoff answered, decisively.

"It is all for her; all I wish is that that woman, who had suffered so
much, should have some rest," said Simonson, with a childlike
gentleness that no one would expect from a man of such gloomy aspect.

Simonson rose, took Nekhludoff's hand, smiled bashfully and embraced
him.

"Well, I will so tell her," he said, and left the room.

CHAPTER VII.

"What do you think of him?" said Maria Pablovna. "In love, and
earnestly in love! I never thought that Vladimir Simonson could fall
in love in such a very stupid, childish fashion. It is remarkable, and
to tell the truth, sad," she concluded, sighing.

"But Katia? How do you think she will take it?" asked Nekhludoff.

"She?" Maria Pablovna stopped, evidently desiring to give a precise
answer. "She? You see, notwithstanding her past, she is naturally of a
most moral character. And her feelings are so refined. She loves
you--very much so--and is happy to be able to do you the negative good
of not binding you to herself. Marriage with you would be a dreadful
fall to her, worse than all her past. For this reason she would never
consent to it. At the same time, your presence perplexes her."

"Ought I then to disappear?" asked Nekhludoff.

Maria Pablovna smiled in her pleasant, childish way.

"Yes, partly."

"How can I partly disappear?"

"I take it back. But I will tell you that she probably sees the
absurdity of