g himself time to think over his position and to
reflect, and even from his back one could see he was troubled and
dissatisfied with himself.

They drank coffee together. Zinaida Fyodorovna poured out coffee
for herself and for Orlov, then she put her elbows on the table and
laughed.

"I still can't believe it," she said. "When one has been a long
while on one's travels and reaches a hotel at last, it's difficult
to believe that one hasn't to go on. It is pleasant to breathe
freely."

With the expression of a child who very much wants to be mischievous,
she sighed with relief and laughed again.

"You will excuse me," said Orlov, nodding towards the coffee.
"Reading at breakfast is a habit I can't get over. But I can do two
things at once--read and listen."

"Read away. . . . You shall keep your habits and your freedom. But
why do you look so solemn? Are you always like that in the morning,
or is it only to-day? Aren't you glad?"

"Yes, I am. But I must own I am a little overwhelmed."

"Why? You had plenty of time to prepare yourself for my descent
upon you. I've been threatening to come every day."

"Yes, but I didn't expect you to carry out your threat to-day."

"I didn't expect it myself, but that's all the better. It's all the
better, my dear. It's best to have an aching tooth out and have
done with it."

"Yes, of course."

"Oh, my dear," she said, closing her eyes, "all is well that ends
well; but before this happy ending, what suffering there has been!
My laughing means nothing; I am glad, I am happy, but I feel more
like crying than laughing. Yesterday I had to fight a regular
battle," she went on in French. "God alone knows how wretched I
was. But I laugh because I can't believe in it. I keep fancying
that my sitting here drinking coffee with you is not real, but a
dream."

Then, still speaking French, she described how she had broken with
her husband the day before and her eyes were alternately full of
tears and of laughter while she gazed with rapture at Orlov. She
told him her husband had long suspected her, but had avoided
explanations; they had frequent quarrels, and usually at the most
heated moment he would suddenly subside into silence and depart to
his study for fear that in his exasperation he might give utterance
to his suspicions or she might herself begin to speak openly. And
she had felt guilty, worthless, incapable of taking a bold and
serious step, and that had made her hate hers