er and how
unhappy she was, he would forget his exhaustion and his illness.
But how could she be eloquent enough?

"Go to the Zemstvo doctor," she heard Stepan Lukitch's voice.

"That's impossible! He lives more than twenty miles from here, and
time is precious. And the horses can't stand it. It is thirty miles
from us to you, and as much from here to the Zemstvo doctor. No,
it's impossible! Come along, Stepan Lukitch. I ask of you an heroic
deed. Come, perform that heroic deed! Have pity on us!"

"It's beyond everything. . . . I'm in a fever . . . my head's in a
whirl . . . and she won't understand! Leave me alone!"

"But you are in duty bound to come! You cannot refuse to come! It's
egoism! A man is bound to sacrifice his life for his neighbour, and
you . . . you refuse to come! I will summon you before the Court."

Nellie felt that she was uttering a false and undeserved insult,
but for her husband's sake she was capable of forgetting logic,
tact, sympathy for others. . . . In reply to her threats, the doctor
greedily gulped a glass of cold water. Nellie fell to entreating
and imploring like the very lowest beggar. . . . At last the doctor
gave way. He slowly got up, puffing and panting, looking for his
coat.

"Here it is!" cried Nellie, helping him. "Let me put it on to you.
Come along! I will repay you. . . . All my life I shall be grateful
to you. . . ."

But what agony! After putting on his coat the doctor lay down again.
Nellie got him up and dragged him to the hall. Then there was an
agonizing to-do over his goloshes, his overcoat. . . . His cap was
lost. . . . But at last Nellie was in the carriage with the doctor.
Now they had only to drive thirty miles and her husband would have
a doctor's help. The earth was wrapped in darkness. One could not
see one's hand before one's face. . . . A cold winter wind was
blowing. There were frozen lumps under their wheels. The coachman
was continually stopping and wondering which road to take.

Nellie and the doctor sat silent all the way. It was fearfully
jolting, but they felt neither the cold nor the jolts.

"Get on, get on!" Nellie implored the driver.

At five in the morning the exhausted horses drove into the yard.
Nellie saw the familiar gates, the well with the crane, the long
row of stables and barns. At last she was at home.

"Wait a moment, I will be back directly," she said to Stepan Lukitch,
making him sit down on the sofa in the dining-room. "Sit