man, whom I looked upon as a serious enemy of my cause.
I reckoned that, living with the son, I should--from the conversations
I should hear, and from the letters and papers I should find on the
table--learn every detail of the father's plans and intentions.

As a rule at eleven o'clock in the morning the electric bell rang
in my footman's quarters to let me know that my master was awake.
When I went into the bedroom with his polished shoes and brushed
clothes, Georgy Ivanitch would be sitting in his bed with a face
that looked, not drowsy, but rather exhausted by sleep, and he would
gaze off in one direction without any sign of satisfaction at having
waked. I helped him to dress, and he let me do it with an air of
reluctance without speaking or noticing my presence; then with his
head wet with washing, smelling of fresh scent, he used to go into
the dining-room to drink his coffee. He used to sit at the table,
sipping his coffee and glancing through the newspapers, while the
maid Polya and I stood respectfully at the door gazing at him. Two
grown-up persons had to stand watching with the gravest attention
a third drinking coffee and munching rusks. It was probably ludicrous
and grotesque, but I saw nothing humiliating in having to stand
near the door, though I was quite as well born and well educated
as Orlov himself.

I was in the first stage of consumption, and was suffering from
something else, possibly even more serious than consumption. I don't
know whether it was the effect of my illness or of an incipient
change in my philosophy of life of which I was not conscious at the
time, but I was, day by day, more possessed by a passionate,
irritating longing for ordinary everyday life. I yearned for mental
tranquillity, health, fresh air, good food. I was becoming a dreamer,
and, like a dreamer, I did not know exactly what I wanted. Sometimes
I felt inclined to go into a monastery, to sit there for days
together by the window and gaze at the trees and the fields; sometimes
I fancied I would buy fifteen acres of land and settle down as a
country gentleman; sometimes I inwardly vowed to take up science
and become a professor at some provincial university. I was a retired
navy lieutenant; I dreamed of the sea, of our squadron, and of the
corvette in which I had made the cruise round the world. I longed
to experience again the indescribable feeling when, walking in the
tropical forest or looking at the sunset in the Bay o